Haiku

Between the black and white keys
High and low
I find myself

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Glowing phosphorescent
In ice cold water
My toes are warm

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In the mirror
A falling star
Can I make a wish?

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Book
Word by Word
I disappear

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Poetic Imagery

Haiku is a traditional style of Japanese poetry. It's short and simple and only consists of three lines. Traditionally, the first line contains five syllables, the second line seven syllables, and the third line five syllables, but nowadays the style is freer - many write a form of haiku just following the three lines rule.

Read more:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haiku

The Love Letter Depression is over..apparently

Has your mailbox also been depressingly lonely since the time of email? If so, I've got good news for you. Love letters are on the rise.

I've always thought that love letters are underrated. It might just be the tiny romantic in me screaming out loud, but I'm sure there are others out there who feels the same. There is something innocent and sweet about them. You know, back in those days when you were to shy to tell someone that they made your hands sticky and your heart beat faster and you could tell them in a letter: those were the days. I rather prefer the honest approach, than the we're just friends or I'm really not that into you (but I am) approach that most of us live by these days (even I do.)

My first experience with love letters: exchanged between me and a boy called Bernt, who lived 10 hours further south by car from Flora, Norway. I "met" him at an online-chat and until this day I've never met him face to face. I was 11 and I thought that I loved him. Really. That's how simple love is when you're young. At that age, growing up in Norway, I was oblivious to the dangers of pedophiles, and lucky I ended up with an innocent boy from down south.

Unlike now, it was exciting to check my mailbox during the Bernt-era. He used to send me photo booth pictures and letters drenched in perfume (I'm sure I did the same in return.)

Post-Bernt, I got cards from boyfriends, but really never proper love letters until I got myself tangled up in long-distance relationships. Love letters are on the short list of benefits when you're going long distance, and one of the only reasons worth having one (except - the obligatory travelling and the memories of course.) My favourite was a book of letters that alternated between me and my latest boyfriend.

Post-long distance and 2010, I'm glad to hear that love letters are doing a comeback. As a writer, you appreciate honest words and someone who expresses their feelings, if not black on white then face to face. We don't get easily impressed by 'hi I'm Jeff, Jeremy, Vincent (whatever your name is,) what's your name?' Maybe I'm being to demanding, but we should all be a little bit more inventive. I know that the time of courting is over, and that love letters don't travel 2000 miles by horse or on a camel through the desert and all of that, but sometimes, even what you already know is nice to get on a piece of paper. Something to read when you're old and don't remember what was said word by word.

I'm not saying that we should all just go ahead and express our love. But, if you have a suspicion that what you feel might be mutual or you already have a girlfriend or boyfriend and you want to be a little bit original - then why not? We don't need valentines day. Do we?

For some love letter inspiration, check out how the famous did it: http://www.theromantic.com/LoveLetters/main.htm

Movie Review: The Squid and the Whale (2005)

Directed by: Noah Baumbach

Written by: Noah Baumbach
Produced by: Wes Anderson, Peter Newman, Charlie Corwin and Clara Markowicz.
Cast: Jeff Daniels, Laura Linney, Jesse Eisenberg, Owen Kline, William Baldwin, Anna Paquin and Halley Feiffer.
MPAA: Rated R for strong sexual content, graphic dialogue and language.
81 Minutes

For those who like quirky movies this is not an aquatic animation (though the Squid and the Whale sound like friends of Nemo,) but a raw, funny and heartfelt comedy-drama about the downfall of a family.

The movie is a personal portrayal by writer and director Noah Baumbach who is also known to have written the Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, a title also suggesting his fascination for the deep blue, together with his friend Wes Anderson. Baumbach originally wanted Anderson to direct the Squid and the Whale, but Anderson convinced Baumbach to direct it himself as the script was inspired by Baumbach's own experience of his parent's divorce. The story takes place in the bohemian part of Brooklyn back in the 80's, a time when divorce initiated by women was on the increase and Baumbach's family was no exception to the rule.

Jeff Daniels plays the sanctimonious, once-famous writer, now teacher, Bernard Berkman who has difficulties accepting his wife Joan's (Laura Linney) success. From the first scene in the movie the tension of the Berkman family is all-embracing as we watch them play a edgy game of tennis followed by uncomfortable silence at the dinner table that only Dickens can break. It ends in divorce and joint custody, involving even the cat. Their two kids Walt (Jesse Eisenberg) and Frank (Owen Kline) have to learn the hard and honest way that there is no longer a 'our house,' but a 'your house, my house and your mother's house.' No secrets are left untold as the essentric family deals with their new situation - differently.

Joan starts a relationship with Frank's peace-loving tennis teacher Ivan (William Baldwin) , while Bernard has an affair with one of his students Lily (Anna Paquin). Frank, the youngest, drinks beer and spreads his semen at the library books at school and rebells against
his father by calling himself a philistine. While Walt, sides with his dad, tries to be everything like him and plagiarises a Pink Floyd song as he struggles to find his own identity.

The plot is intricate and the cast plays it brilliantly. The most
impressive of them all is the youngest, Owen Kline, who got the role thanks to a family friend of Baumbach's wife. But the seniors, Daniels and Linney, were the ones later rewarded with best actor and actress
nominations.

The movie was awarded for best original screenplay and dramatic direction at the 2005 Sundance Film Festival and it deserves all the ovation that it can possibly get. It is a movie that genuinely explores the complexities of relationships, identities and how to find yourself when what you know is broken.

The Squid and the Whale shows that even the most heart-rending moments in life have humor.

A Psychic Octopus?

Yes it's true. Psychic octopuses do exist.

If you don't believe me you can check it out yourself on the tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJYv5rul11M

I was amazed when I heared the story about Paul the oracle octopus from Oberhausen, Germany, who has correctly predicted the result of all the German games. Germany was always his first choice until they were facing Spain. Before the match he picked Spain - the matadores, who won the semi-final though Germany was one of the clear favourites to win the cup and bring home the trophy.

How amazing is this Octopus? Just felt like sharing it with you who haven't heard about this very special mollusk creature Paul.

It sure makes you wonder what more there is to animals that we don't know about? The world (and all its creatures) is so fascinating.

I have to say that I feel a little bit psychic myself, just like Paul the O-pus, because during the WC I've bought a big Spanish flag and a tiny Dutch flag, plus a orange Vuvuzela and two Dutch supporter "bracelets." That's the only supporter stash I got and guess what: they are both in the final. Coincidence? In my case, yes most likely and certainly so.

As for the final, I have now predictions about who the champion will be, and no clear favourite.

I'll pick my favourite when I'm watching the game.

One thing is for sure: I'm going for the most honest team who plays the most impressive soccer and who acts the least.

Whoever that is, is my team.

Soccer - more handball and acting than anything else?

I have to ask myself this question after watching the game between Ghana and Uruguay. I never thought I would find myself writing about soccer, but look at me now. I blame it on the Uruguayan cry babies.

After Suarez stopped Adiyiah's ball with his hand - and before the crucial penalty shoot-out my mum predicted Ghana's loss saying: "football just isn't fair anymore." The penalty shoot-out proved her right. But if it's not fair, what is it then?

Judging from tonight's match, I would say: 20% effort, 60% acting and 20% handball, which explains why it's possible for a bunch of cowards to move on to the next level of ayobaness.

Unfortunately, if that's what it takes to win, Ghana didn't stand a chance with their 100% high performance and non-stop committed team play nor with their (at least) three would-be successful goal attempts if it weren't for the desperate Uruguayan fly-jumps. (Fly-jump is a new terminology in the soccer dictionary due to tonight's match and is described as a player throwing himself in front of an opposing player to prevent him from scoring.)

As if their unprofessional fly-jumps weren't enough, they had a whole repertoire of dirty tricks up their sleeves including a touch of handball, grabbing the opposing team's shorts or tossing and turning on the ground in "writhing" pain like a cry baby (often just because a Ghanian player was breathing too close.)

Throughout the game, Uruguay proved that they can act: not play. They only scored on free-kicks and penalties because they are uncapable of producing their own goal opportunities. There is a reason why Uruguay haven't reached the semi-finals since the 1970's. They can't play ball!! In my opinion they qualify for an Oscar Award rather than anything else. And if they leave South Africa without the golden Oscar, I scouted at least two player on the field who might have a brilliant volleyball career ahead of them.

As Abreu tapped in the final penalty-kick and Uruguay raised Suarez in false triumph and pride as he mockingly re-enacted his hand block, I didn't share their joy. I felt disgust.

Unfortunately, in the eyes of too many the winner is the hero no matter what the means are. That is why we now have to listen to people who say: 'Oh my God, Uruguay is such a great team. They are brilliant. AMAZING' (or worse read it in the sport section in the newspaper, written by a journalist who we're supposed to take seriously.) Somehow a team can get away with anything these days.

Soccer isn't fair.

If it was, Ghana would've gotten their well-deserved goal rather than penalty when Suarez pulled a Maradona. There would have been a rule saying that 'ah, that's a goal. No penalty needed.' Ghana would've gotten their well-deserved place in the semi-final. And if that was the case Guyan wouldn't have to carry the burden of skimming the crossbar.

Ironically, Uruguay "succeeded" with their filthy tricks and won even though Ghana was, without any doubt, the best team (especially during the extra-time when the ball was rarely seen at the foot of an aspiring Uruguyan actor.) Ghana played honest and impressively good soccer with amazing back-headers and graceful interceptions. Soccer like you rarely see it.

At least I know who's the hero and who's the villain of tonight's match. And I hope the villains get what they deserve eventually.

GO HOLLAND!