David Bowie--Thursday's Child

You'll have to forgive me, but I am not letting go of Bowie just yet. I haven't been able to shake whatever it is that has come over me since he died. I need to hear his music, and have been going down memory lane listening to some of his older songs. Like this one from 1999.......It made quite an impact on me when I first heard it and saw the video. The man was a master at making videos that reach in and grab your heart, or that wake up your mind, or both.

The Loneliest Guy by David Bowie

Another poignant beautiful song from Bowie's Reality album from 2003......

Loving the Alien by David Bowie

An unforgettable live version of this song.......





(I agree with him when he says that this is perhaps the way the song should always have been done. The original version is good, but this version is just perfect--moving, serious, and memorable).



"Loving The Alien"

Watching them come and go
The Templars and the Saracens
They're travelling the holy land
Opening telegrams

Torture comes and torture goes
Knights who'd give you anything
They bear the cross of Coeur de Leon
Salvation for the mirror blind

But if you pray
all your sins are hooked upon the sky
Pray and the heathen lie will disappear
Prayers they hide
the saddest view
(Believing the strangest things,
loving the alien)

And your prayers they break the sky in two
(Believing the strangest things, loving the alien)

You pray til the break of dawn
(Believing the strangest things, loving the alien)

And you'll believe you're loving the alien
(Believing the strangest things, loving the alien)

Thinking of a different time
Palestine a modern problem
Bounty and your wealth in land
Terror in a best laid plan

Watching them come and go
Tomorrows and the yesterdays
Christians and the unbelievers
Hanging by the cross and nail

Nothing Remains: David Bowie's Vision of Love---an article by Simon Critchley

A very good article in the New York Times Opinion Pages about David Bowie and his music, written by Simon Critchley. Well worth reading.......


http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2016/01/11/nothing-remains-david-bowies-vision-of-love/?WT.mc_id=2016-JANUARY-OTB-INTL_AUD_DEV-0101-0131&WT.mc_ev=click&ad-keywords=IntlAudDev&_r=0

My tribute to David Bowie

So much has been and will be written about David Bowie now that he has died. I’m reading it all in the hope that I will get to know even more about the man who sang back in 2013 about “the moment you know, you know, you know” in the song Where Are We Now. I have pondered that line over and over, and each time I hear it, my feeling is that he was talking about that moment when you know that you are mortal; that moment when every fiber of your being knows that you are aware of that knowledge—that one day your life will end. That is how I interpreted the song, as an elegy for the fragility, the transience, the unfathomable ending of life, and for the knowledge that time cannot be stopped and that there is nothing we can do to prevent death. It comes to us all. It could have been that he was growing older, as we all are, and that he had regrets. Thoughts of our own mortality are not unnatural. We go on living all the same, in our paradoxical lives where we discuss in earnest what type of couch we may buy tomorrow at the same time that we realize that it does not really matter in the long run what type of couch we buy. But we do it anyway. Living each day to its fullest requires that we understand that mortality is our ultimate outcome. What makes Bowie exceptional is that he pursued those thoughts as far as he was able. He explored the idea of mortality and of dying. He visualized death. You cannot hear and watch Blackstar and not be totally undone by it, by its bravery, feelings, anxiety, fear, imagery, and darkness. He was afraid, he was vulnerable, and he shared that. He did not shy away from a difficult, almost taboo subject. But he did it his way, through his art, and it was genuine and heartfelt.

I could not then, and cannot now, listen to Where Are We Now without crying. Because even then, it seems to me that Bowie was exploring the juxtaposition of life and death in daily life.

‘As long as there's sun

As long as there's sun

As long as there's rain

As long as there's rain

As long as there's fire

As long as there's fire

As long as there's me

As long as there's you’.

Life was worth living because the sun shone, the rain fell, the fire burned, and loved ones were in his life. As long as there was a spark of life in him, and love between him and others, there was a reason to go on, to fight (illness perhaps), to create, to be. He did not want to die. I want to think that if anyone will be able to tell us what the afterlife will be like, it will be him. After all, he told us what it was like to know that he was dying through his music and his lyrics. I am not sure how he will manage to let us know about the new world he has come to, just that I think he will.

David Bowie was my first meeting with the strange, the exceptional, the out-of-the ordinary, and the other-worldly. There was a seriousness about every piece of art he created. He believed in his art and in his ability to communicate his visions to us. Hearing him for the first time when I was a teenager made me feel less alone, less alienated, and less strange than I normally felt at that time. I felt like I ‘fit’ when I heard his music. I am thankful that I met his world when I did, because I got to experience some strange and wonderful rides through that world—Space Oddity, Ashes to Ashes, Heroes, TVC15, Changes, and Rebel Rebel, to name just a few of my favorites songs. Who else could write a song (Space Oddity) about a spaceman trapped in outer space with no hope of return, and get you to feel for that character? It did not matter whether that character was literal or figurative; you felt for him all the same. Bowie was the perfect choice for the main character in the 1976 film The Man Who Fell to Earth, a film that drew me in and would not let me go for a long time afterward. I dragged my sister and a few of my friends to that film, and ended up being the only one who liked it and who wanted to discuss it afterward. I wanted to share the sorrow I felt about his alien character not being able to return to his home where his family waits for him, a dying planet without water. As a young adult starting out on the long journey that is life, it was a terrible feeling to contemplate that he would never return to them. That thought was hard to bear. David Bowie seemed to understand the dualities of human existence, love and lack of love (isolation/alienation), joining the party and standing outside looking in, joy and sorrow, strength and frailty, health and sickness, and in that sense he was very much like his character in The Man Who Fell to Earth. But unlike Mr. Newton in that film, I believe that he has now returned home.  

Light pillars over Oslo last night

It has been quite cold here in Oslo for the past few days, after very mild Christmas weather. The temperatures since Monday have been creeping lower and lower, and are around 14 degrees Fahrenheit at present. It is supposed to continue this way through the weekend, after which it will warm up again. 

But the cold weather helped to create a very infrequent optical illusion last night--columns of light in the sky called light pillars. They appear to extend from the ground all the way into the sky. These are essentially atmospheric phenomena seen for the most part in cold arctic regions. They are created when natural light (sun or moon) or artificial light reflects off of flat ice crystals (in ice clouds, ice fogs, blowing snow) that are close to the Earth's surface. The result is a pillar of light that extends into the sky. They are absolutely beautiful to see!

I took a few photos from my kitchen window. The photos would have been better had I not lived in a city where there is a lot of artificial light that dilutes the illusion, but nevertheless, I did manage to get some photos that show the beauty of these atmospheric phenomena. Enjoy!

Light pillars over Oslo, 6 January 2016

Light pillars over Oslo, 6 January 2016

Light pillars over Oslo, 6 January 2016

Light pillars over Oslo, 6 January 2016

My third short story posted on WriteOn by Kindle

I just published my third short story on WriteOn by Kindle, entitled Before My Eyes. This is a short description of what it is about:

Mike and Miriam have been married for forty years. Miriam, who has resigned herself to the reality that her marriage is mediocre at best, has resolved to live her life in a positive way and to carry on with the things she enjoys. Mike for his part has never really had the time to reflect on his life together with Miriam. One autumn day, he finds that he has the time, and he promises himself that he will spend the rest of his days making his wife happy. But life is unpredictable at best.

You can find Before My Eyes here: https://writeon.amazon.com/search?headerQuery=paula%20mary%20de%20angelis&ref_=ign_h_tn_sr_ac

Please feel free to provide constructive feedback--that's how we writers improve and progress. 

Best Wishes for a Happy 2016

Wishing my readers a very Happy New Year, and including the lyrics to a song that many are familiar with as a New Year's Eve song. Auld Lang Syne was written by Robert Burns in 1788. The lyrics were set to the tune of a traditional folk song. This song is often played/sung on New Year’s Eve, as a way of ushering in the New Year. We remember friends (and family) of old and how much they meant and mean to us. 

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

Books by PM De Angelis Facebook page

I started this Facebook page back in 2012, but did not keep it updated at that time due to other activities. I have just relaunched it after a three-year hiatus. During that time, I published three poetry collections: Remnants of the Spirit World; One Hundred Haikus for Modern Workplaces; and Quantum Bloom, and am currently working on a new volume of poetry as well as a short story collection. Please check out the Facebook page; I promise to be a more active contributor than I have been previously. 

https://www.facebook.com/BooksbyPMDeAngelis/

American embassy employees try Norwegian Christmas food

Ok, so the reactions were probably staged, but the video is amusing, as are the comments afterward. Some Norwegian Christmas food is an acquired taste, and varies according to what part of the country you live in. The Christmas food I've tried and liked the best is pork ribs and meat-cakes (ribbe og medisterkaker) and cured lamb (pinnekjøtt). I've tried lutefisk and rakfisk but they are not favorites although I will eat them if served. I doubt that I will eat a sheep's head (smalahove) any time soon.

Lily et le Bonhomme de neige (Lily and the Snowman)

A very sweet little video by

Cinémas Cineplex!

I know you'll like it as much as I do.

Reflections on the afterlife

There are dreams that you remember long after you’ve had them. They leave an intense feeling in their wake, the kind of feeling that you can carry with you for the entire day after you’ve gotten up. I’ve had such dreams, albeit not many, but those I’ve had often have to do with being visited by loved ones who have died. Both my father and my mother have visited me in dreams, talked to me without my responding, or we have had short conversations. I don’t always remember the specific words we’ve said to one another, but I do know that they are very real dreams and that the messages are not garbled or nonsense. Recently, I’ve had several such dreams, and it got me to thinking about the afterlife. I am starting to really believe in an afterlife, and I have come to that belief after many years of skepticism about its existence. I grew up with the idea that life continues on after death, and I’ve wanted the afterlife to exist. According to my religion, it does exist in the form of heaven, purgatory and hell. It’s been depicted in countless poems, novels and films, all of which have made a huge impression on me. But my skepticism kept me from fully embracing a belief in it. That has changed. It also changed because I began to seriously question the idea of love ceasing at death. How can it be that we work so hard to learn to love in this life and that we love the people we love, only to see that love die with death? It makes no intellectual sense to me, and I tend to reject arguments that make no sense to me. So that too has pushed me to embrace a belief in the afterlife, a place where love lives on, because that makes sense to me.

I searched for afterlife on the internet, and found this description of it on Wikipedia-- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Afterlife

In philosophy, religion, mythology, and fiction, the afterlife (also referred to as life after death or the Hereafter) is the concept of a realm, or the realm itself (whether physical or transcendental), in which an essential part of an individual's identity or consciousness continues to exist after the death of the body in the individual's lifetime. According to various ideas about the afterlife, the essential aspect of the individual that lives on after death may be some partial element, or the entire soul or spirit, of an individual, which carries with it and confers personal identity. Belief in an afterlife, which may be naturalistic or supernatural, is in contrast to the belief in oblivion after death.

This description does not mention dreams at all. Suppose that dreams are part of the afterlife, or at least a portal between this world and the afterlife, through which deceased loved ones can talk to us. Perhaps there are other portals as well. I’m not actively looking for them, but perhaps deceased loved ones need to get in touch with us (albeit infrequently) for one reason or another—to give us a message, to reassure us, or to guide us. Nearly every such dream I’ve had has had to do with something I’ve been wondering about, and I’ve gotten the answer, or at least some semblance of one, in the dream. My mother telling me that she was fine, my visit to the beautiful house where she was living, or telling me that she was worried about someone in the family, or my father telling me that something I had written was good and worth sharing. I trust these dreams; I never wake from them thinking that they are nonsense. I believe dreams are a way of being able to have contact with those we loved who are now dead, or a way for them to contact us if they know that we subconsciously have a desire to talk to them. Now at Christmastime, it makes more literal sense to me when I read the passages describing how Joseph was visited by an angel in his dreams that told him to take Mary and Jesus and leave Bethlehem because Herod was going to search for Jesus to destroy Him, and that they should flee to Egypt. Joseph took his family and fled to Egypt because he trusted the dream and the message.  

It is easy to pay lip service to the ideas of an afterlife, of heaven, hell, purgatory, of resurrection of the body, life everlasting—all the things we say we believe in as Christians. I wonder how many of us really ponder the meaning that lies behind what we profess to believe in. I know most people want these things to exist, but that is different from knowing that they actually do. Most people, myself included, take it on faith that they do exist. But the scientist part of me has always been looking for proof throughout most of my life, for clues, for answers, and I have come to believe that the visitation dreams are evidence that the afterlife exists.

December reflections

We are midway through December and nearly at the end of another year. We are also more than halfway through Advent—a time before Christmas in the Christian church that lends itself to reflection. I haven’t written much on this blog lately; I’ve been very busy, but also unsure of what to write about. This year passed by rather quickly, and the tone of the year was influenced in many ways by my brother’s death from cardiac disease in February. When I received the news of his death, I realized yet again that there is no escape from life’s sadness and suffering. I knew that already when I was twelve years old and my father had his first of several heart attacks. He survived the first one, and was progressively weaker by the time he had his second one. I felt then that life was unpredictable, unsafe, and often dark. I struggled to find meaning in life. Was it only about suffering and death? I was a churchgoer but was at a loss to know what it was I really believed in or sometimes even why I went to church. It was not until a good friend of mine helped me to find what I could personally relate to in my faith that I began to understand what it was I professed to believe in. When I understood and believed that God cares about me personally—that is when my relationship to my faith changed. Many years later, my conclusion is that it is love, and love alone, that transforms people, changes lives, allows for forgiveness and acceptance, offers hope and gives us a safe haven during life’s storms. It gives us something to believe in and to act on. I am not talking about romantic love, although that is definitely a part of love. I am talking about the love described in 1 Corinthians 13, the passage about love that is read at countless weddings:

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.        

These words were first uttered/written many centuries ago, and speak for themselves. They have shown themselves to be quite prescient in my life. It is clear to me after many years in academia, that higher education does not always enlighten its recipients or make them better people. Unfortunately, there are a number of self-centered people with PhDs and MDs who are mostly concerned with titles, incomes, amount of grant support, and the number of high impact-factor publications a person has. There is no direct correlation between higher education and good behavior, unfortunately for the world. It doesn’t matter much in our current world that a person treats his or her students well, gets along with his or her colleagues, or finds happiness in playing a supportive role for others. These characteristics are simply not valued in the same way as is being a cash cow for your organization. As long as a person brings in research money, bad behavior, bullying and envy are tolerated. So yes, knowledge will pass away, as will titles and honors. Aging takes care of that--the top person of the moment in any profession will lose that status, replaced by someone younger and smarter—and the cycle continues, as well it should. If all a person has had is his or her job, and he or she has not treated colleagues, friends or family well, then he or she can end up bitter and lonely in old age. Or frantic, desperate and borderline hysterical, because no one remembers the ‘important’ contributions he or she has made. You would think that people gain perspective as they age; some do, but you’d be surprised at the stories I’ve heard about former professors (men and women both) in their eighties and nineties arguing about who was the better scientist, or convinced that their contributions to the field were those that revolutionized it. ‘You’re only as good as your last publication’—is a common expression in academia. The problem begins when a person begins to believe the hype he or she hears about himself or herself—that one is irreplaceable, brilliant, a genius, the best in the field. It’s nice to receive the accolades. Far better to have reflected on what is really important in life, and to have treated your colleagues and students in a way that reflects the kind of love that 1 Corinthians 13 talks about--patience, kindness, lack of envy, lack of boasting, and humility. How many former top professors will mentor and encourage their one or two brilliant students without envy, and how many of them will keep those students down so as to hinder competition? How many of them will actually let go of their control over their students and let them fly and shine? I’ve seen a few of the latter, and many of the former.

What have I learned this year from my reflections upon the good and bad things that have happened? My brother’s death was a real shock to me (and to my sister), and permeated our lives during this past year. The complicated situations surrounding his death introduced me to a dark world where nothing was as it seemed. My brother was a master at pretending that everything was ok, when in fact it was not during the last two years of his life. He opened the window into his life a crack and let me see some of what he had to deal with (financial problems, his being the primary parent), but he shut it just as quickly, either so I would not worry, or so that he would not lose face. Either way, he was afraid that he would be judged, because he himself was often quick to judge. He knew that I would not judge him; perhaps that made it harder for him to open up, because it would have meant breaking down his own walls. I wish he had, because I loved him and however difficult his life had become, I would always have loved him. He, like many others in our materialistic society, did not want to admit that money, fame, a city job, an apartment in a tony Manhattan suburb, or materialistic things generally, were not the answers to happiness in life. But it’s hard in our society to let go of that way of thinking. He was on the verge of changing his life when he died. Sometimes you’ve got to just toss in the towel and start over in a simpler world, where love is the foundation, and not materialism. There were many people who got in touch with me after his death to tell me how he had affected their lives, especially when we all were younger—how he helped others, was a good listener, took a back seat to others—all things I knew and loved about him. My brother was my good friend when we were younger; we spent many a Saturday evening in Manhattan, meeting friends, dancing and having a good time together. My friends knew and liked him, and his friends knew and liked me. Despite having the Atlantic Ocean between us after I moved abroad, we always got together in Manhattan when I visited each year in the summertime. He would use his company expense account and treat me to lunch at one or another restaurant that he had discovered, and we would walk around lower Manhattan for a few hours and just talk. I am grateful for those memories.

I am grateful for so many other things this past year—my closest friends who were and are always there for me, in good times and in bad. I am grateful for having been a part of a joyous May wedding (the daughter of my close friend got married) that balanced out the sadness of my brother’s death. I am grateful for having met a lawyer (the father of my good friend) who helped me with a specific legal situation related to my brother’s death; I am forever grateful to my friend for having arranged that meeting with her father. I am grateful to my husband for always being there for me, without a lot of fanfare and fuss. I am grateful to my workplace that approved and financed a yearlong leadership course from which I learned a lot—a course that changed my perspective about leadership, about my own leadership qualities, and about the importance of real dialog and communication in the workplace. It seems strange to say it, but often out of sadness come many good things—reminders as it were that there is a reason to continue to hope and to believe.  There is good in the world, and real love does exist. 

A beautiful song by Highasakite

I heard this song, Lover, Where Do You Live? the other night on one or another music awards show. The Norwegian group, Highasakite, performed it live, and hearing it sung that way sent chills down my spine. This is the YouTube version and it's pretty awesome. It's an intriguing song, one that grows on you more and more each time you hear it. I'm including the lyrics as well.

Lover, where do you live?
In the skies, in the clouds, in the ocean?

I learned a lesson 'bout bad ideas,
We're really out in the middle of it now,

And if I ever see you again my love
All I'm ever gonna do
is send shivers down that spine of yours

It would be nice to come home, I guess..
To a couch, and a stove, and a backyard..

Lover, where do you live?
In the skies, in the clouds, in the ocean?

And if I ever see you again my love
All I'm ever gonna do is send shivers down
that spine of yours

And if I ever see you again my love
All I'm ever gonna do is send shivers down
that spine of yours

All I'm ever gonna do is send shivers down
that spine of yours

If I ever see you again my love
If I ever see you again my love
If I ever see you again my love

Lover, where do you live?
In the skies, in the clouds, in the ocean?

Thanksgiving quotes

Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds.

--Theodore Roosevelt

Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.

--Aesop

All that we behold is full of blessings.

--William Wordsworth

Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.

--William Arthur Ward

If you are really thankful, what do you do? You share.

--W. Clement Stone

Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never, ever have enough.

--Oprah Winfrey

I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual.

--Henry David Thoreau

For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, for love and friends,

For everything Thy goodness sends.

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dear Lord; we beg but one boon more:

Peace in the hearts of all men living,

Peace in the whole world this Thanksgiving.

--Joseph Auslander

God has two dwellings; one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful heart.

--Izaak Walton

Forever on Thanksgiving Day

The heart will find the pathway home.

--Wilbur D. Nesbit

Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way.

--Native American Saying