Graffiti in Oslo (street art in Oslo Norway)

Got a new photo project going--photographing the different graffiti I come across in my wanderings around Oslo. I'll share the photos with you from time to time. Here are some that I took recently. One of them I've posted before. Enjoy!

A summer moment

From the future I remember

Days in my past, etched in memory

Close my eyes halfway, I can see the sunlight

Glittering through the tree’s green leaves

Magician’s haze

In the heat of summer, feeling the warm sun

On my bare arms, loving that feeling.

Wondering if heaven had descended

Sitting there next to you on the bench

You reading your magazine

T-shirt slung over your shoulder

Me watching you and the life around us

No particular cares

Us watching the new magpie parents strut about

Three little ones to care for, wondering if they could fly

In case a cat came slinking by.

I can see the future in the present moment

Remembering this day this exact moment in time

And the past from the present

When I remember back to what I thought life would be

When I was younger

It starts with happiness, that warm melting feeling

When boundaries dissolve

Feeling gratitude, because it could all die away or change

And I am grateful that it hasn’t.

Watching the new generation take the place of the old

Spectator in my life, watching others, watching myself

Everyone gets older

Wondering if you have the same thoughts

But I cannot articulate them to you

You would think that I was feeling melancholy

When the opposite was true. 

copyright Paula M. De Angelis

28 May 2012

The smells of summer

Out biking earlier this evening. Breathing in the smells of late spring/early summer. This is the season of lilacs, my favorite flowers, of freshly-mown green grass, a smell I love, of grilled meat on the barbecue, asphalt roads baking in the heat—the smell of tar. Reminds me of the ocean boardwalk at Rye Beach Playland, also baking in the sun. Love that smell—it always brings me back to childhood, summers, and our annual trip to Playland that was a treat from our parents to us and our friends. Loads of fun. Opened the door to my house, the hallway was filled with the pungent (but not unpleasant) odor that comes from my fig tree, which now has three figs on it. In the living room I smelled the lovely delicate fragrant scent that comes from my mini-orange tree, which has at least six oranges growing on it now and many new white blossoms. The fragrance attracts the bees, who love it when they get the chance to alight on the blossoms; and that is only when they get a chance to come into the house when the windows are wide open as they have been the past few days due to the heat. And then of course my basil plants, with their wonderful smell that always remind me of my aunt’s garden in Tarrytown. When we visited her during the summer, she would make dinner and send us children out into the garden to pick tomatoes and basil leaves for her salad, and also raspberries (for dessert) from the bushes that surrounded her house. I always remember the strong smell of basil from her garden. The smells of summer are peaceful, a kind of aromatherapy for the mind and soul.

Warm weather musings and updates

Summer has finally come to Norway, at least to Oslo and the surrounding area. And it’s not even officially summertime yet according to the calendar. So guess who’s happy? It’s my favorite season, summertime. It brings with it no work or very little work, vacation, sun, warmth, travel, long lazy days, boat trips, bicycle rides, a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables on a daily basis, salads, enjoying a few hours with friends or my husband at outdoor cafes—the list is endless. My plants are happy; it’s just to take one good look at them. Their leaves seem greener and they just seem to be healthier. Just like us, how we respond to the sun. Everyone seems happier, more patient, less aggressive and more open. I wish it could be like that all year long. Summer always seems to be the time when new beginnings blossom, for me at least. More than spring, although you might say that spring is where those new beginnings take root.

I haven’t written too much about work lately, I guess because I’ve moved into a new phase now at my workplace—the ‘wait and see’ phase. For the time being, my work life seems to have evened out a bit. All that means is that I have found a new research group to settle into and so far, so good. It feels good to be a part of something to which I can contribute. I just hope this new group is allowed to grow and flourish. One year ago, the other ‘new group’ that I was a part of was just getting onto its feet and learning to get to know one another. And then the end of 2011 came and that group went ‘poof’ and was no more. Management decided to move the pawns around on the chess board once again, and came up with new suggestions for new constellations. And of course they know best. The uplifting part of these political scenarios is that they happen now in public for all to see, so that it is no longer possible for my friends and colleagues to say that they don’t believe me when I tell them how it is. They’re now experiencing some of this personally and they don’t like the treatment either. I’m a couple of years ahead of them, having graduated from anger to depression to cynicism to healthy skepticism. ‘Trust no one’ as the main characters on the X-Files used to say. In a work-related context, I’d say that’s where I am now. Still like the research work I do, though. I just hate work politics, but they’re part and parcel of the whole arena, in fact of most business arenas.

Mostly, I’ve floated myself back into the world that I love the most after science—the world of the creative arts--literature, movies, art, and music. That world always fills me with hope and the feeling that I am being renewed—new beginnings within myself. I’m reading again, listening to new music, appreciating art where I find it, and going to the movies as often as I manage. Or renting DVDs to catch up on the movies I’ve missed. I just read Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and enjoyed it; he describes evil behavior in mankind in a way that can chill you to the bone, and he does it in a way that seems so ordinary. I’m currently reading Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout and enjoying it immensely; Olive is a prickly middle-aged woman but her life is so worth reading about—all the different people who cross her path and who interact with her. I recommend it. I got tickets to see Deadmau5 at Oslo Spektrum concert stadium next week as I wrote about in my previous post; in a few weeks I will see Sting at the Norwegian Wood music festival in Frogner Park. I recently went to see the movies Dark Shadows, Hunger Games and Martha Marcy May Marlene, and I got tickets today for the opening night of Prometheus (can’t wait!) next week. I’ve rented The Rum Diary with Johnny Depp, and watched Source Code and Another Earth (another film I wrote about recently). All of them were good films, and all of them inspire me in a way that no other art form can. I’m hooked on movies—always have been and always will be. Some of you may ask where I find the time to do these things—yes, I know and feel the time constraints all the time. The answer is that I am making the time now. Again I ask, if not now, when? Academia can eat up every spare minute of life including evenings and weekends, and I don’t want that. So yes, I am choosing the creative world of the arts any chance I get, as I’ve written about here in this blog many times before. It helps to balance out the administrative, political and other demands of academia. The actual research and experiments though are the creative part of science, when we are actually permitted to pursue them. There is a lot of creativity in the world of science research; the trick is to not get buried by all of the other demands that eat up that creative time.

Deadmau5 next week at Oslo Spektrum

I was swapping through TV channels last night, and settled on MTV Live, which just happened to be showing some choice live sessions from Roskilde 2011. Exactly at the time I watched, Deadmau5 was performing. I have to say that I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but to be truthful, I haven’t been following a lot of the new music for some years now. It got to be too difficult, with all of the 'one popular song' groups that came and went. I haven't heard of Deadmau5 before, but he has been around since 2005. Anyway, this was just out and out wild! Really caught my attention, especially because the main performer--Joel Thomas Zimmerman—wears on his head what he calls a ‘mau5head’, which is some kind of computer-controlled mouse head with large ears. This mouse head appears in many different colors and designs, and the expressions on the face shift and change shape and swirl. A sinister (Mickey) mouse staring out at the audience from the darkness, into the darkness, from some chaotic fractal hell. The visuals were fantastic, and for me at least, it was a rare glimpse into the future, how electronic music will be (probably a hundred times more sophisticated by that time—let’s say forty years from now) in terms of the digital effects, computer-controlled light show, use of strobe lights and anything else that musicians use these days to heighten the effect of their music. These are just a few of the instruments he uses (and that I’ve NEVER heard of—info from Wikipedia): Nord Lead 2x, Moog Little Phatty, Voyager RME, Ableton, Fruity Loops, Allen & Heath Xone 3D, Allen & Heath Xone 4D, Lemur Input Device, Ableton Live, Monome 256, Reaktor, Cubase, Kaossilator, Nuendo, Native Instruments Maschine, Smithson Martin Emulator, and Dave Smith Instruments Prophet '08. And in a case of synchronicity, while I was online reading about him, I saw that he is playing at Oslo Spektrum next Wednesday, May 30^th. So I got tickets. I’m looking forward to seeing him live. I’ll let you know how it was next week.

The indie film 'Another Earth'

I have self-published three books that I am sure would never have seen the light of day had I sent them via an agent to a large publishing house, so that makes me an indie author. Not that I am against traditional forms of publishing, mind you. I just believe in giving underdogs a small chance. I may try the traditional publishing route with my next book, but it’s not finished yet and I may still change my mind. As I’ve written about before, Amazon/CreateSpace has given indie authors like me a chance to get our books out there. I’ll never be a millionaire from the royalties I get from the minor book sales I enjoy, but I’ve learned valuable things about the publishing and marketing worlds, and that by itself is worth gold, because I don’t have to pay a publicist to market my book. This is the true beauty of our modern society—dreams can become realities in the digital age.

But this time around this post is not about my experiences as an indie writer, but rather about an indie movie I rented recently. A nice little gem of a film released in 2011 called Another Earth; it had its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival on 24 January 2011 where it won an award. You can find it listed on IMDB at http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1549572/. It was directed by Mike Cahill, and written by him and Brit Marling, who also has the lead female role of Rhoda in the film. Another Earth is labeled as both a drama and a sci-fi film, and I guess you could say that it is a sci-fi film of sorts. But the science fiction aspect is not paramount; it is the backdrop for the personal drama that plays out in the film. Despite the presence of the ‘other earth’ in the sky—a hauntingly beautiful orb that looks just like our planet—the film is really about what happens to individual lives in the aftermath of personal tragedy. It is about making amends, paying back, trying to forgive, and trying to move on with one’s life. The two main characters, Rhoda and John (played by William Mapother), have a hard time moving on with their lives. Their paths become entwined through a mistake really, or rather a failure on the part of Rhoda, a college-age young woman, to inform John, a middle-aged professor for whom she cleans house, about her role in the car accident that took his wife and child from him. Her inability to tell him about her role in his personal tragedy leads inevitably to another type of failure—the end of a love affair, but which inspires her to try to set things right for him. The film is well-worth seeing. The sci-fi elements of the film serve to keep us wondering about the possibility of second chances on the other earth, and this involves the aspect of whether or not there is synchrony between both planets. Will the other ‘me’ on the other earth have lived the same life as I did on this earth, and so forth. I won’t give away the details or ending of the film, but will say that despite a rather abrupt ending, you won’t be disappointed. The film will make you think, and if you read the message boards about this film on IMDB, you will find that there are others who are puzzling about the very same things. The mark of a good film—it gets people talking, discussing and trading ideas and possible scenarios.

I have no idea how much it costs to make films, nor do I have any idea of what it cost to make Another Earth. According to IMDB, it grossed $77,740 in the USA on its opening weekend (24 July 2011); it opened on four screens. As of 2 October 2011, it had grossed $1,316,074 in the USA. I rented the DVD here in Oslo just last weekend; I cannot remember that it opened in the theaters here, although according to IMDB it opened here in Norway in November 2011. No matter. I’ve seen it on DVD. It will be interesting to see what returns will come from the foreign market, especially from DVD rentals/sales. The American earnings are not a lot of money really, compared to what some of the commercial blockbusters rake in. But I’m betting that Mike Cahill and Brit Marling are not complaining. I doubt it cost them that much money to make the film. So now they may even have some funds to write and direct a new film. It will be interesting to follow them further; I hope they make more films like Another Earth. 

Dark Shadows and 'marginal weirdness'

I have been eagerly awaiting the opening of Tim Burton’s new film, Dark Shadows; it opened here in Norway this past Friday, May 11th. So I was online a few days before and ordered a ticket so that I was assured a seat in the theater. I needn’t have worried; the theater was not full, and I doubt it will be for any of the showings. Not because the film isn’t worth seeing, it is, but mostly because it will have limited appeal given its subject matter in a cinema world where vampires have been done to death. I need think only of the Twilight films and of True Blood, both of which I don’t really watch, although I have seen one of the Twilight films and a few of the True Blood episodes. They don’t appeal to me as much as the original Dark Shadows TV series or the two Dark Shadows films from the 1970s (House of Dark Shadows and Night of Dark Shadows) based on the TV series. The original Dark Shadows series and even the subsequent films managed something none of the other vampire films or series has managed as well, with the possible exception of Francis Ford Coppola’s incredible wonderful film version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. And that is to take themselves seriously, despite that the subject matter was nothing more than pure fantasy. They wove the supernatural fantasies of vampires, ghosts, witches, werewolves and other creatures into a soap opera storyline filled with romance, love, sex, deceit, treachery, normal life, family life and honor, wealthy families, and tragic lives. They managed to be serious and campy simultaneously. The Dark Shadows TV series was talky, like a good soap opera should be. It kept its viewers hanging literally onto each word a character uttered. Those words were important to the storyline, driving it forward, and since the series ran from Monday to Friday, viewers were guaranteed a treasure trove of conversations, arguments, conflicts, ultimatums, discussions and more conversations. In between all of these, something supernatural could occur—there might be vampire or witch activity, or ghosts that wandered about the Collinwood mansion or estate, which was often shrouded in darkness or fog. It seemed to be always evening on Dark Shadows; and like the individual characters, I was always relieved when they got indoors, into the foyer and then into the main drawing room—a safe haven for the most part, because that was where normal family life happened, where ghosts and vampires and witches were kept at bay at least when the individual family members met there. Of course the other parts of the house were not as ‘safe’; I need only think of the different rooms inhabited by ghosts, or rooms that were portals into parallel times. I think those are the parts of Tim Burton’s film that I liked the most—when the Collins family sat down to dinner, with the matriarch of the family, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Michele Pfeiffer) sitting at the head of the table, in complete control of her family. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell someone to be quiet, and he or she toed the line. At these times during the film, there was conversation, a sense of family, a sense of why these people stayed together and lived together in the house. Viewers learned about the history of the Collins family and how they made their living. There was character development and storyline progression. Much of this took place during the first half of the film. And then came the second half of the film, which took off into another realm completely—the absurd really, with Alice Cooper visiting the mansion as entertainment for one of the family’s famous ‘happenings’, or Angelique (played by Eva Green) ranting and raving about being scorned and how she would make Barnabas (Johnny Depp) and the family pay. She did a good job, but I would have preferred less emphasis on her and more on Barnabas and Victoria/Josette (played by Bella Heathcote), on Carolyn (played by Chloë Grace Moretz), or even on David (played by Gulliver McGrath). The film ends up being rather schizophrenic; I preferred the first half—the return of Barnabas, his entrance into and confrontation with the 20^th century, his meeting with his old family, his having to live and act as a vampire—all those things. The second half of the movie toyed with the first half. I would have preferred otherwise. But I am not sorry I saw the film. Why? Because after I got home, I went online and found some of the old Dark Shadows TV episodes on YouTube, and watched a few. And then I went onto Amazon and ordered the entire DVD collection of the original TV series (131 DVDs spanning 470 hours). I’ve decided that I will come home from work each day and watch one episode, just as I ran home from school in the 1970s to watch an episode on TV. I am looking forward to the experience of reliving the original series.

I’ve been following the reviews of Burton’s film to this point. The New York Times gave it a good review and even put it on its Critics’ Pick list: http://movies.nytimes.com/2012/05/11/movies/johnny-depp-stars-in-tim-burtons-dark-shadows.html. IMDB has a list of the different reviews so far: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1077368/externalreviews

But the review that resonated most with me was the one on Salon: http://www.salon.com/2012/05/10/johnny_depps_delirious_dark_shadows/. Why? The following excerpt from this review will explain it well: 

“Barnabas Collins predates not just “Twilight” and “True Blood,” but also Anne Rice’s “Interview With the Vampire” and the entire rise of the Goth sensibility. In the 1970s, vampires were something that only marginal weirdos who went to science-fiction bookstores and watched Hammer films like “Dracula: Prince of Darkness” knew about. People like the teenage Tim Burton, in other words”.

Well, marginal weirdo could describe me too. I may not have gone to sci-fi bookstores when I was a teenager (I’ve done so in my twenties and loved all the ones I’ve been in), but I did watch the many Christopher Lee vampire films and I even dragged my poor sister to them to keep me company. Heck, I dragged her to a lot of different horror films from that time. Needless to say, she does not have the same fond memories I have of time well-spent in dark movie theaters watching horror films. Of course, now that I think of it, she did accompany me, when she could have said no. Sometimes we were accompanied by a friend of hers, who was a marginal weirdo like myself. He liked those kinds of films, and was even the type to build models of Frankenstein and Dracula that glowed in the dark. I don’t know what happened to him after high school; I can only wonder if he too has seen Burton’s film. I would love to hear his take on the film.

'Until Tomorrow' by Gail Ann Dorsey

I have fallen in love with a song--this song. Pure poetry set to music. It's beautiful, both the music and the lyrics. It is a song from the soundtrack to the movie Phoenix, itself a very good and very underrated little movie, just like this song. I tried finding the lyrics online and couldn't, so I listened carefully to the song and wrote them down. I believe Gail Ann Dorsey wrote this song and sang it. If so, she is as good a songwriter as she is singer and musician. Here are the lyrics to 'Until Tomorrow'. Enjoy........


These are the pieces
Of all that I was
My troubles will never define me
Overcoming them does.

If I try to stand up
Would you hold me down?
The choices I made
Were all my own
All my own.

(chorus)

I have fallen in too deep
Miles to go, before I sleep
Before I sleep.
Give me peace
I am lost
Give me wings, to rise above
To rise above.

If I ask forgiveness
Would you give me that now?
If I wanted to hold you
Would you show me how?

No need for reasons
No time for sorrow
Each day is a new day
And lasts only until tomorrow.

(chorus)

'A story is told as much by silence as by speech'

I saw the recent film ’Martha Marcy May Marlene’ last night, and was reminded of this quote by Susan Griffin, 'A story is told as much by silence as by speech'. My first response—yikes, what a movie. Creepy. Right from the start—an atmosphere of tension, dread, and foreboding. An atmosphere of intensity and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Probably one of the most intense films I’ve seen, definitely not for the weak of heart. And I mean it. I found myself having to breathe, because I kept holding my breath for much of the movie. The film is not overtly violent from the physical standpoint except for one scene where you can see the violence coming a mile away—the person happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately. The other violent scene involves cats, but you don’t see the result of the violence. That scene also contains the implication of violence toward a human being, and that by itself is nerve-wracking. Even though it doesn’t occur, you know it’s likely to in the future. From the psychological perspective however, the film is a continual assault on your nerves and psyche. It is the story of a young woman who manages to leave her ‘family’, a collective of men and women who live together on a farm and sleep together at random. The family has cult overtones, and not surprisingly, once you get a glimpse of its leader, Patrick, you cannot help but think of Charles Manson and his family. What the film gives you is an insight into how such families function, and even how they came to be. Besides Martha’s story, there is one scene where one of the male family members drives home with a new female ‘recruit’ in his black SUV. It made me think of the film Silence of the Lambs, how the serial killer Buffalo Bill managed to lure women into his van and kidnap them. The promise of love, family and acceptance is the lure in this film—the family members are young men and women who have come from presumably dysfunctional families. But you never really know for sure, in the same way as you never find out much about Patrick’s earlier life. I kept remembering back to my own youth, and how the Moonies used to come onto my college campus to try and recruit us to join them. I remember one young woman who nearly succumbed to their propaganda and how I fought to keep her from joining them. She didn’t, luckily. But it’s possible to get fooled in other ways, not necessarily by a cult--but by a man who says he loves you, or a woman who says she is your friend, that you can trust her. We want to hear those things. ’Martha Marcy May Marlene' is a scary film, and more of a horror film than any horror film you’re likely to see. Because it involves real people, who abuse one another in the name of ‘love’, and who have lost all semblance of what it means to be living breathing emoting human beings. They have turned into automatons who obey their leader, who mostly does not punish them with physical violence except in one respect (the ritual for the new women who become a part of the family is that they ‘sleep’ with Patrick, but the reality is that he rapes them. This is all presented to the new recruits as a cleansing and a special night that they will never forget). Patrick manages to be a truly menacing presence in their lives. You know that he is capable of physical violence if triggered, and you’d rather not trigger him (psychological abuse).

Martha is mostly silent. She says very little, talks very little, offers few explanations for why she ‘disappeared’ off the face of the earth to live with her ‘boyfriend’ on a farm in the Catskills in New York State. She is mostly monosyllabic in her responses, and you know it is because she cannot begin to verbalize what she has been through. She is mostly in shock, and is trying to come to terms with what happened to her in the setting of her sister Lucy’s summer home on a lake in Connecticut. Lucy’s husband Ted has little patience with her, and the tension between Martha and Lucy and Martha and Ted is also nerve-wracking. You know something bad is bound to happen. I was glad to see that the director did not take the trite route of having Ted seduce Martha. There have been too many of those sorts of films and they most often don’t strike me as realistic. Lucy tries all sorts of ways to get Martha to open up about what happened to her and how she spent the last two years; she is overprotective and a bit controlling, but has a good heart and wants her sister to ‘get better’. Martha remains quiet and robotic. Her silence makes her powerful, even though she is not seeking that power. The natural silence of the rural settings in the film (the farm and the lake house in the woods) also lends to the tension and foreboding. Martha’s silence gives her a kind of (unwished for) control over her surroundings, but you know that she cannot control her former family. Patrick’s family is the wild card in her life—a menacing presence at all times, one that invades her dreams and her waking hours. Lucy and Ted merely dance around her, trying to integrate her into their lives as best they can. They fail. When they finally realize that she needs professional help, it really is too late. Without giving away the ending of the film, which I found rather abrupt, I can tell you that this is not a film with a happy ending, as ambiguous as it was. Elizabeth Olsen did a great job as Martha, ditto John Hawkes as Patrick, and Sarah Paulson and Hugh Dancy as Lucy and Ted, respectively. The movie's writer and director Sean Durkin has made an unsettling and uncomfortable film, one that you will not quickly forget.  

What George Orwell said

Just some amazing quotes from an astute man.......

·         During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.

·         Freedom is the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.

·         Good writing is like a windowpane.

·         To an ordinary human being, love means nothing if it does not mean loving some people more than others.

·         The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection.

·         He who controls the present, controls the past. He who controls the past, controls the future.

·         Political language. . . is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.

·         The aim of a joke is not to degrade the human being, but to remind him that he is already degraded.

·         In our age there is no such thing as 'keeping out of politics.' All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred and schizophrenia.

·         To accept civilization as it is practically means accepting decay.

Jumping hurdles

It’s been a while since I last wrote for my blog; I have been very busy with work-related things. My work life has changed yet again, perhaps for the better. Time will tell. I am now part of a large research group that has a new leader and he seems to be up for the job. He has the qualities needed to run a research group, and for now, that’s all I care about. My workplace remains a study in transition; I doubt the dust will settle any time soon. Several of my friends and colleagues are now dealing with the depression and uncertainty that haunted my life up until the end of 2011. It’s their turn now. I let go, gave in, and resigned myself to constant change, change for change’s sake, to frustration, to disappointment, to bad behavior. In the end, you get used to change and all its accoutrements. What seemed like such an impossible hurdle to overcome, dealing with constant change, has at least become a hurdle of lower height. It is possible to jump it at times without falling. It is even possible sometimes to soar over it; that’s happened at least a few times since the new year started. The associated hurdles of questionable leadership and boredom are harder to soar over, but I will. I no longer look at work in the same way anymore though; it’s a job, albeit well-paying and interesting, but a job nonetheless, and when it’s time to go home, I close the door on it—a big change for me. I doubt I will go in reverse and become the workaholic I once was. It’s hard to let go of an identity that was comfortable, one that defined me for many years. It’s finding a new identity that’s the tough challenge now; I alternate between scientist and writer/photographer. Both make equal claims on my time now. And I let them. Because in truth, I want to let them. I want both of them in my life. I no longer choose one at the expense of the other. I don’t want to give up my creative interests, and if I give up the time needed to pursue them, I will be unhappy, that I know.

Third-graders and their questions about science

A few posts ago, I talked about the third-graders at a Long Island grammar school who had written letters to me asking me about my work and life as a scientist. I received sixteen hand-printed letters in the mail right before Easter vacation, and read through them all. Their teacher (my good friend) helped them formulate some of the questions. Many of them were insightful, many were cute, a few were out there, but all of them were indicative of a group of youngsters who are thinking about their daily life and surroundings. That is a good thing and should be encouraged at all costs, especially if we want the younger generation to choose science and math when they get to high school and college.

Here are some of their questions that I am busy answering these days:

1.       What do I know about cancer and are we coming close to a cure?

2.       How is my research on cancer going?

3.       What would I do to stop cancer?

4.       Do I know the cure for cancer?

5.       Do a lot of unhealthy foods give you cancer?

6.       Did any members of my family get cancer?

7.       Do I like to study cancer?

8.       Do I study just cancer?

9.       Does a cell get destroyed from cancer?

10.   How many kinds of cancer are there?

11.   Will a sickness go away if you take care of it by yourself?

12.   What have I researched in the past and what am I researching now?

13.   Is it hard work to be a scientist?

14.   Do I have any helpers in the lab?

15.   How did I become a researcher?

16.   What does a research biologist do?

17.   Do I have my own cool lab?

18.   Is it fun to be a scientist?

19.   How come I am not writing a book about science, and have I written science

       books or regular books?

20.   Is Norway a hot place to live?

21.   How is it to live in Norway?

22.   How are the fjords in Norway?

23.   Have I ever studied the human heart?

24.   Do all rabbits eat grass only?

25.   Is it ok to eat the bananas that have brown dots on them and that the fruit flies fly around?

26.   Do I make potions?

The beauty of Bergen

In my last post, I talked about my recent trip to the city of Bergen (on the west coast of Norway) together with two of my friends from New York. We thought it was a beautiful city and enjoyed our short visit. I have been to Bergen at least four times before this trip, but for some reason, this time it just radiated beauty. Perhaps it was the sunny day, the perfect blue-sky weather, the clear crisp air. A clean city, cheerful inhabitants, lovely homes, and a feeling of peace in the city. I took more pictures than I can count, and I thought I would share some of them with you today. Enjoy!

The ugliness of litter

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Nothing makes a city uglier than inordinate amounts of litter and garbage strewn about on streets, in parks and on different properties. I bring the topic up yet again because I spent some of my Easter vacation walking around Oslo together with two friends from New York who were visiting me for the week. It was actually quite appalling, the amount of litter that we saw in different places—paper, plastic wrappings, plastic cups, empty beer and wine bottles, not to mention dog feces and human spit clumps here and there. I’d like to say that it was mostly localized to the center of the city; but that was not true—there was just as much litter in the residential areas that ring the city. I guess it’s time for the annual spring cleaning of the streets and different properties after the long winter, and that may account for why the litter, garbage and feces have not been cleared from the streets, but overall I find it rather sad to consider that a number of people in this city apparently don’t care too much about how their city looks, either to themselves or to visitors. And I really cannot understand this, because the litter and garbage strewn about are ugly, and make the city rather unappealing to look at. We also spent a day walking around the city of Bergen, and the contrast was striking. No litter anywhere—not one piece of paper, empty cup, or empty bottle strewn about. And no spit clumps or dog feces. What’s up, Oslo? Why are there no litter and garbage in Bergen, and so much of it in Oslo? Is it just that Bergen has had its annual spring cleaning of the streets and grounds? I doubt it. It is a beautiful city, and it seems as though its inhabitants want to take care of it and to preserve its beauty. I wish that could be said of Oslo’s inhabitants. I think it’s time to wake up and take a look around, Oslo-ites. This city is also lovely in its own way, and could be even more so if there was no litter. One of the most beautiful areas of Oslo is the Akerselva river that divides the city into east and west; there was even a fair amount of litter along this beautiful waterway. My visitors were left with the impression that Bergen is the prettier city. Perhaps that doesn’t matter to anyone; it matters to me, because Oslo is a pretty city when it is clean.

I also want to make one last comment. Tagging is also ruining the beauty of this city. Graffiti artwork is fine and often very striking and pretty. Tagging is just ugly, and is a type of litter too if you ask me. I don’t know what it will take to make people care again. I don’t have the answers, but perhaps it’s time for some kind of ad campaign to shed light on this problem. 

Third-graders and science

I recently agreed to answer questions from third-graders about what it means to be a scientist, what a scientist does, and so forth, as part of a project to get students interested in science. My friend teaches third-graders in a Long Island, NY, elementary school, and it is her class that I agreed to 'talk to'. I cannot do so in person, so we agreed that her students would write letters to me with their questions. Today when I got home from work, there was an envelope waiting for me. Inside were personal letters written to me by hand from about twenty students. I had a long day in the lab, so when I got home I was pretty exhausted. But after reading these letters, I perked up again. They are just so sweet and unusual and interesting. It will be fun to answer their questions and to see what I can come up with in the way of photos and other items that will allow them to 'see' what it is I do everyday. I thought I would post some of their questions here over the next month or so, anonymously of course. But it will give you an idea of what third-graders think about when they think about science. Stay tuned.