Am Ende kommt die Dekadenz, aber kommt der Vitalismus auch?

So this semester has been spiraling to become my own decadence. I have been reading about it for the past 6 months and now it seems like these books have been trying to point something out to me. My only question is if vitalism will also be happening some time very soon?

Why decadence? Because that's the best way to define how I have been feeling these past weeks (actually months) and how everything I have hoped for has turned out. The Zerfall of me seems to have taken place, slowly if not quick and hard. So... Decadence because I relate to the female characters that Arthur Schnitzler and Thomas Mann, even Theodor Storm and Gerhart Hauptmann to some extent, have depicted. Because had I been any of the women in Fräulein Else and Tristan, I would have done exactly what they did and their deaths are to me (in a pretty twisted way) beautiful. I can also imagine myself being a femme fragile during the Fin de siècle, on second thought: I probably was a femme fragile in my past life and still am in this life. No wonder why I am fascinated by Freud, Weininger and the philosophy and theory about hysteria and most intriguingly the Geschlechterdebatte. The (Zer)Fall der Frau never seems to bore me and the beauty of their deaths and their thoughts and hysteria are all pretty captivating. (This is probably giving you all the wrong image of me, I am not agreeing with men being the better sex or even the stronger sex, should that be an image you have of me now. I am just fascinated with the decadence and the fin de siècle.) My own feelings have been pretty dark and pessimistic lately, and very similar to the women described in the books I have read. My faith has seemed to wish the worst for me and all I feel is that I am slowly falling into my own modern decadence. Words can't quite describe how bad it all seems to have turned out right now, and frankly, I think everyone is better off not knowing.

Contributions to my decadence: The topic love. How one believes that a romance can regress to friendship, is completely impossible for me to understand. I have tried to understand, and even tried to put it in practice. Results are distressing and to no one's shock, very maddening. Ever heard of "meet me halfway"? Instead of being the only one trying to make an effort and trying to make it work out with respect for the other, without ripping up old wounds, both need to equally contribute to the phony friendship they are trying to maintain. Never ever try to be friends with an old flame - it won't work, at least not to both's benefit.
Another contribution to my decadence is education. As much as I thought I knew what I was doing, apparently I don't. I am basically drowning in a wide-open sea with the darkest tone of black as water. Let's call it (pure*) turpentine instead, because as transparent as turpentine is I apparently manage to fail and be blind to myself. I tend to always lose myself and get lost in the academic world - sometimes I wonder what I am even doing in it.
One of the least expected contributions is ice hockey. I have no idea why I am suddenly so obsessed with this sport and when Sweden didn't even qualify for the semi-finals my heart felt very heavy. What could ice hockey even substitute? In my life, I cannot find anything that could to the slightest bit be associated to ice hockey. Nevertheless, I have seriously considered becoming an ice hockey wife. Not that I am sure what it would require of me or what that lifestyle is like - I just know that ice hockey has been the only uplifting thing in my life this year. The one thing I have been looking forward to and that has nearly become my bible. However, (as I previously mentioned) the loss against the Czech Republic was a hard loss to accept. And how unexpected is it that Slovakia slid in on second place? I never really saw them coming.
One of the last contributions is funerals. I hate them, not that I think anybody loves them, but I cannot deal with loss. I do not know what to do, how to react, what to say... What I really can't deal with is acknowledging someone's death. Uttering the words, letting it slip out of my mouth to become reality is the hardest thing for me to do and accept. And I never react until it is time for the funeral, because that is the last evidence of death that is slapped across your face. I tend to pretend like death never happens, however, it's hard to pretend once you see a coffin and hear the sobs of family members. Although I wasn't close to my aunt's husband, he was still a part of our family tree. My sorrow was more for my aunt and a part of my disappointment for choosing not to attend the funeral, something I believe is one of my many mistakes in life.

Und wann kommt der Vitalismus? In literature and in Fin de siècle, vitalism came after the fall (in the books, the death of the women) in form of a new life, a new beginning (in the books, they were all in the form of babies). This semester is finally coming to an end. One week left with one exam and a presentation to go. I need to pull it off, one way or another. Then summer vacation begins, something I have been looking forward to very much. So hopefully this summer will act as my Vitalismus. I will be needing it badly.


*If turpentine isn't pure then it has a yellow-brownish color and a very characteristic smell to it. Therefor, I needed to distinguish which type of turpentine I was talking about.

Thomas Mann + Richard Wagner

Heute Abend werde ich den Literatur-Unterricht teilnehmen. Hab schon "Tristan" von Thomas Mann gelesen. Erstes Mal hatte ich nichts verstanden, da ich todmüde und auf einem Zug nach Stockholm war. Ich hatte, zum zweiten Mal, gestern früh am Morgen das Buch noch wieder gelesen, und dann, plötzlich alles verstanden.

Und jetzt, als ich die Fragen Kataloge vorbereite, hör ich zu Wagners Oper "Tristan und Isolde", die ich noch nie gehört hab. Obwohl es schwer ist zu hören, was Tristan, Isolde und die anderen singen, hab ich das Libretto auf'm Internet gefunden. Das Liebestod ist schön aber am schönsten ist immer "Unsere Liebe heißt es nicht Tristan und Isolde?".

Ich will etwas mit Nachdruck sagen, und zwar, es ist, dass Romeo und Juliet nichts gegen Tristan und Isolde haben. (Wenn man sich auf dieser Weise ausdrücken kann.) Bevor Romeo und Juliet, gab es schon Tristan und Isolde, die ein schönere Liebe und Geschichte haben.

Ich bin Pro Tistan und Isolde!

Unter dem Video gibt es einen Auszug von dem Zweiter Auszug Wagners Tristan und Isolde. Er bedeckt "Unsere Liebe heißt es nicht Tristan und Isolde?" und "Habet Acht! Habet Acht!".

ISOLDE.

Doch – unsre Liebe,

heißt sie nicht Tristan

und – Isolde?

Dies süße Wörtlein: und,

was es bindet,

der Liebe Bund,

wenn Tristan stürb,

zerstört es nicht der Tod?

TRISTAN.

Was stürbe dem Tod,

als was uns stört,

was Tristan wehrt,

Isolde immer zu lieben,

ewig ihr nur zu leben?

ISOLDE.

Doch, dieses Wörtlein: und,

wär es zerstört,

wie anders als

mit Isoldes eig'nem Leben

wär Tristan der Tod gegeben?

Tristan zieht, mit bedeutungsvoller Gebärde, Isolde sanft an sich.

TRISTAN.

So starben wir,

um ungetrennt,

ewig einig

ohne End',

ohn Erwachen,

ohn Erbangen,

namenlos

in Lieb' umfangen,

ganz uns selbst gegeben,

der Liebe nur zu leben!

ISOLDE wie in sinnender Entrücktheit zu ihm aufblickend.

So stürben wir,

um ungetrennt –

TRISTAN.

ewig einig

ohne End –,

ISOLDE.

ohn Erwachen –

TRISTAN.

ohn Erbangen –,

BEIDE.

namenlos

in Lieb' umfangen,

ganz uns selbst gegeben,

der Liebe nur zu leben!

Isolde neigt wie überwältigt das Haupt an seine Brust.

BRANGÄNES STIMME wie vorher.

Habet Acht!

Habet Acht!

Schon weicht dem Tag die Nacht!

TRISTAN lächelnd zu ihr geneigt.

Soll ich lauschen?

ISOLDE schwärmerisch zu ihm aufblickend.

Laß mich sterben!

TRISTAN ernster.

Muß ich wachen?

ISOLDE bewegter.

Nie erwachen!

TRISTAN drängender.

Soll der Tag

noch Tristan wecken?

ISOLDE begeistert.

Laß den Tag

dem Tode weichen!

TRISTAN.

Soll der Tod

mit seinen Streichen

ewig uns

den Tag verscheuchen?

ISOLDE.

Der uns vereint,

den ich dir bot,

laß ihm uns weihn,

dem süßen Tod!

Mußte er uns

das eine Tor,

an dem wir standen, verschließen;

zu der rechten Tür,

die uns Minne erkor

hat sie den Weg nun gewiesen.

TRISTAN.

Des Tages Dräuen

nun trotzten wir so?

ISOLDE mit wachsender Begeisterung.

Seinem Trug ewig zu fliehn.

TRISTAN.

Sein dämmernder Schein

verscheuchte uns nie?

ISOLDE mit großer Gebärde ganz sich erhebend.

Ewig wär uns die Nacht!

BEIDE.

O ew'ge Nacht,

süße Nacht!

Hehr erhab'ne

Liebesnacht!

Wen du umfangen,

wem du gelacht,

wie wär ohne Bangen

aus dir er je erwacht?

Nun banne das Bangen,

holder Tod,

sehnend verlangter

Liebestod!

In deinen Armen,

dir geweiht,

urheilig Erbarmen,

von Erwachens Not befreit!

Wie sie fassen,

wie sie lassen,

diese Wonne,

fern der Sonne,

fern der Tage

Trennungsklage!

Ohne Wähnen,

sanftes Sehnen;

ohne Bangen,

süß Verlangen;

ohne Wehen

hehr Vergehen;

ohne Schmachten

hold Umnachten;

ohne Meiden,

ohne Scheiden,

traut allein,

ewig heim,

in ungemess'nen Räumen

übersel'ges Träumen. –

ISOLDE.

Du Isolde,

Tristan ich,

nicht mehr Isolde!

TRISTAN.

Du Tristan,

Isolde ich,

nicht mehr Tristan!

BEIDE.

Ohne Nennen,

ohne Trennen,

neu Erkennen,

neu Entbrennen;

endlos ewig

ein-bewußt:

heiß erglühter Brust,

höchste Liebeslust!

Sie verbleiben in verzückter Stellung.

Visiting Louise in London

I think I might have mentioned that my beloved friend Louise moved for not so long ago to London. This diligent and bright girl is now in her first year at King's College; oh my am I proud of her!




So last Saturday I visited her. It was a blast and there was a lot to do in such little time. Louise introduced me to her friends, all of them were wonderful people and I really admire them for their career choices. I felt slightly behind as always, but I also got more inspiration to apply for a bachelor's. I have also found something that I'm setting my mind on!

The weather was actually quite good. No rain until the last day and unfortunately one of my paper bags, with books about Klimt and Turner, tore up and the books fell in a puddle of water. Luckily they were quite well saved! A bit wobbly on certain pages and some stuck to each other, but no further disaster.

I also took time to visit museums that I never got the chance to visit last summer. I missed Dali and the Gaugin exhibition at Tate Modern. However, I managed to cover the most important ones: Tate Britain and National Gallery. I found many paintings and the most amazing thing happened when I was at National's; I found my favourite painting by Turner (the one below). I was so amazed and flabberghasted to actually be there in person to see it! I mean I was only a couple of centimeters away from it and really, it's more beautiful in person than on picture (the way I studied it in 7th grade). So that really made my day!



Flying home was a bit of a pain. I was sleep deprived and my suitcase's wheel had broken so it was a pain dragging it with me home too.

Anyways, enough with the blabber...

Bianca 2.0

This year I turned 20 and I feel indifferent. Honestly, I do.
Many of my friends have sort of made it into a deal: "20 Bianca! 20! How do you feel!?" Nothing. If anything, I've gotten more anxiety about the future! It's creeping so sneeky up to your front door and the next thing you know... well, it's whatever it is you'll find when you open that door. Now, I'd like to keep that door shut until I am ready to go out. I would assess that to... hmm, let's say NEVER! However, we all need to grow up and there is no pause button on life so I'll just have to roll with it.

My day: it has been great! My friend Mathilda suprised me. So I met her at around noon, dressed to impress with high heels and back-ups in my bag. She bought me lunch and then we roamed around the city until 2pm. Headed off to "Old Town" where I was to be blind folded(!), took the bus, got off at some random station and walked until we had arrived at our final destination. Which was "Berwaldhallen", one of Stockholm's concert halls. I was really shocked, I thought it would be a movie or something similar to that. I even guessed "Skansen" (the zoo) and "Gröna Lund" (the amusement park) yet ended up being very wrong. Nevertheless, I was very happy with my gift; a concert with Mozart's piano concerto and Shostakovich's 10th symphony, the pianist being Jonathan Biss. I really enjoyed it, especially since it was ages since I went to the concert halls. I almost forgot how much I love classical music, especially live - so this gift was very meaningful to me.

Later we headed back into town and met Sofia. Fun! I got some up-dates about my high school; boy am I glad not to be there now to experience it! Crazy things were told. I ate two cheeseburgers to satisfy my birthday-stomach and headed home for a set birthday dinner. Very enjoyable!
And now it's 2am; I'm writing this before heading off to bed. I've cleaned my room too. I mean really C-L-E-A-N-E-D, I've tossed many things and made more space, there's even dust on the floor now. Wow! Cleaning and cooking is really meditating. Speaking of cooking, my mother got me "Nigella Express" which I can't wait to try. All the recipies looked so yummy and I felt like diving in to all the pots and pans at once! She also got me Rubik's cube... I guess I got some solving to do. I'm determined to triumph the cube, yet it might take a while; a long one.

So the birthday girl, who already feels too old to go out to party (I'm really not that much in the mood for clubbing these days), stayed at home and cleaned her room. She is now going to bed; one year older, more updated = 2.0

On my mother's card, to me:

"As you look back on your past...

I wish you an attitude of appreciation for all the lessons that you've learned. I wish you a sense of gratitude as you remember every experience. I hope you have no regrets to trouble you and to try to steal your joy, for even less-than-positive experiences teach us lessons and help to shape who we are.

As you look to the future...

For every question not yet answered, for every dream not yet realized, I wish you a tomorrow that will hold you gently in its arms and create that perfect way to make your dreams come true.

And for the rest of your life...

I wish you love and acceptance and peace and satisfaction. May you reach every goal you set for yourself and do all the things that you want to do. May every person who is important to you celebrate this day with you.

I wish you a birthday filled with happiness, and if I've missed anything, I wish that for you too."

A text from Donna Fargo.

I love Dorothea Tanning! This piece of art is titled "Insomnia". I saw it about 3 years ago at Moderna Museet, here in Stockholm. I did a paper on it (got an A++ yay!) and I just stood and stared at it for hours. I think it was at least 2,5hrs and the funny part; that wasn't even enough to analyze. I could've stood in front of it for much longer. Also, it's so detailed it was impossible to catch everything. Objects overlap each other; creating new patterns, symbols, emotions and even new objects. If you moved from one point of the room to another, you'd see something new and have a completely different perspective of the painting. Everytime I blinked it felt like the figures on the canvas had moved ever so slightly, and that something new was created. It's an amazing painting!

If you get the chance to see it (Insomnia) at an exhibit, then you must go and see it! It's very much recommended.

Jerome Robbins

Jerome Robbins was an American film director and choreographer. He was also a dancer.
His works included from classical ballet to contemporary musical theater.
At the bottom of the page, you'll find a link to a video that was aired on SVT.

Watch it! It is definitely worth your time...


http://svtplay.se/t/128511/veckans_forestallning

Art based on letters and fonts...

Something that really puts a smile on your face.

Something that is utterly brilliant.

Something that sets you in a slight "Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain"-mood.

This something is Type City...

So turn on the volume on you computer.

Click on the link beside: http://www.veer.com/ideas/typecity/gallery.aspx

And start your dreamy tour of Type City.

Une ville que je voudrais visiter...

The thoughts of a Birthday girl, the thoughts of Bianca

(Birthday by Dorothea Tanning - my favourite painter)

19. A slightly monotone age in one's life. Nothing really happens. Nothing important, nothing special, nothing that makes you feel that you've grown.

Eighteen was an exciting age when clubs were open for you and when you finally were allowed to drink in public.
Twenty is a year away and that's when you're allowed to buy your own booze to drink at home for dinner or for (most of us young ones) partying and messing up our brains.
Twenty-one is then the final good age (or at least for me) when life has its doors most open for you. You're definitely legal, counted as an adult and all you need to do is to take that step towards building your family/career. That's when (at least for me) reality sets in and life gets serious.
Luckily, it's two years away from now and I still have two years to be a careless and wreckless teenager (although I'm actually not as carelss or even wreckless as I'm making this text seem).

Last night, when I was lying in bed, I couldn't sleep - as always. I'm beginning to wonder if I might be suffering from insomnia? Either way, as I layed their tossing and turning in my bed listening to the pitter patter of rain on my window, I couldn't help but think about the past; how my 19 years of life has been, memories that were both good and bad to me, friends that I've had by me for a long time and those whom I haven't.
I remembered last year when it was my birthday, it was quite funny actually and I didn't even get upset by it, my mother greeted me in the morning by cooking breakfast for herself. I thought that she would've included me in the portion but she didn't, so I made my own breakfast and sat down quietly. As the hour it takes for me to get ready had past, I was standing by the front door ready to leave for school. I took my time wondering when she would greet me Happy Birthday. She popped her head through the kitchen door and said bye, then vanished by the corner. I started turning the lock and pushing down the handle as she yelled "Oh, I almost forgot! Bianca wait I have something for you!" That was close I thought but as I turned around thinking she might be holding out a small present as an appetizer for the nights surprise, I found her standing behind me holding out a garbage bag towards me. "That's it?" I asked her with big confused eyes and as she nodded with the same confused eyes, I left with a garbage bag and without a "Happy Birthday". (Today she actually left the garbage bag by the door and asked me to take it out after she sung Happy Birthday to me quitely with some presents in her arms - it was really sweet of her, although the garbage bag feels like it might become a tradition). Back to the memory; she called me about 30minutes later and apologized a thousand times for forgetting that it was the day she had for (then) 18 years ago been squeezing me out in agony. We laughed together on the phone and discussed the nights plans.

After the trip down memory lane, I started thinking about where I am right now. I thought about my plans in life, career paths that I was open to, colleges I wanted or wished I could study at and etc. As usual those thoughts always leave you distressed and agitated. I wondered where I'd be in about 6 months, where my family would be, how my love life would be within the next decade. Always this annoying obsession with love! But seriously, how can it be that it is so hard to find one decent guy in a town, a capital city actually, with 818 603 inhabitants? I'm not looking for Mr.Right just a potential one that will at least last for more than a month or two.

Last night, I also seemed to have planned out my whole life, and my unborn childrens lives, in my bed. I decided and hoped that I would get twins just like my grandmother and most of my cousins (it's genetic). Preferably one boy and one girl. A minimum of 2 children but 4 would be ideal. If they were to be boys I'd be choosing between the names; Alexander, Maximillian, Franz, Philip, Oliver (but that's intentionally the name of my future golden retriever) and Calsuphur. And I'll probably end up giving them two names since I'm so indecisive. As for girls, not as many speak to me but I figured that Olivia and Elizabeth are names that I like. I also decided that, whether I'd do it intentionally or not, I'd be introducing all string instruments, piano and vocals I'd wish for them to play at an early age (probably forming a little quartet at the most). As for other arts, I'd be introducing them to ballet and various dance forms, creative arts, sports such as tennis (which I did when I was a bit younger), horseback riding and most of all fencing. I'd see to it that they study well and have their paths as widely open as they can. But most of all I wouldn't push it on further if they immediately make a resistance and don't wish for any activities at all. Although I don't want to admit it, I have to say that I might turn out to be the most pushy mother a child can have and exactly what I'm hoping not to become. I can tell now, that I'll probably become a helicopter parent.


Now I have to get ready for work and start planning my evening, I'll be going out with friends to celebrate my monotone and slightly useless age - 19.