The Beginning Of The End.

When we (my family) found ourselves as political refugees in Sweden in 1980, we assumed never to set foot in the former East Bloc again. Never. This was it. We escaped and considered ourselves lucky to be free and the idea of ever returning home was absurd and unreal. The years that followed were the years that any refugee or immigrant would understand. The consuming feeling of never to belong anywhere. Never to feel home anywhere again and yet being home everywhere to a certain degree. While something, somewhere deep inside, would never be complete again.

Therefore the chain of events that unraveled later that decade and brought eventually the end of the Cold War holds a very important place in my heart and soul.
Today is the official twenty years anniversary of the fall of The Berlin Wall. I think we all can remember November 1989, when our television screens were filled with images of joyful Germans, climbing over the Berlin Wall and rushing through the open borders to celebrate freedom. And some would finally be reunited with family members they might have not seen for what must have felt like eternity.
This force to end the decades of oppression spread through out the eastern Europe, even into Czechoslovakia where the Velvet Revolution saw the overthrow of the Communist government later that same year.

And so that, which once seemed impossible, came to pass.
In the spring of 1990, only months after the fall of communism, my family drove into Czech republic for the first time since our escape. I can still recall the chills running down my spine as we crossed the borders. As the guards at the checkpoints required our passports, the look in their eyes and the way they scrutinized our faces brought back memories of times, when these borders used to confine us. Later, I often used to wonder what they really did think of us and people like us; did they think us to be traitors or did they think us to be brave (stupid) enough to venture back? The guard handed us the passports at one point in a aloof manner, confusing my parents. As my father asked is we could continue across the border, the man in the uniform gave us one last look, waving his hand, uttering with a sting of nonchalance "If you really wish..." For a split second, as the gates closed behind us, an eerie feeling enveloped my heart and as we drove quietly onto the soil of my former home, an absurd thought of fear crossed my mind, instigating the feel of being trapped once again...

However, when we reached Prague, the onset of freedom was palpable in every corner of the city. To this day this first visit home was the most significant visit of them all. It was bittersweet in every way and reinforced the fact that one can go home, but one can never ever go back.

Later that summer we drove back to Prague again. We took the night ferry from Sweden and arrived in West Germany on an early summer morning, watching the sun rise as we disembarked the ship. Our plan was to visit Berlin on our way down and gaze at the remains of the Berlin Wall. I recall the drive very vividly. Barely a year after the fall of the wall, the signs of the old regime could still be perceived as we passed the empty border controls at one of the checkpoints that led the autobahn through a sort of no-man zone into the city. The deserted border buildings stood as silent witnesses to an era that has ended, yet was still very much present. On the pictures below that I took out of the car, one can still see the old Trabants, the undying symbols of the former DDR, driving ahead of us on the highway. Seeing one today is considered a rarity.
As we arrived in Berlin early on a Sunday morning, the city was still asleep. We reached the Brandenburg Gate which was empty, completely devoid of people or animals, cars or any kind of sound. I think what I recall the most was the unusual feeling of the place. It was filled with a sense of nostalgia and even a certain sadness. I felt as if we were walking through a deserted city. As we strolled around for almost an hour in complete silence and without meeting a soul, we passed the Reichstag Building and finally reached the wall. This was the first time that I stood face to face with this important structure in our history. I remember touching it and trying to envision the years of oppression and the shed of blood and tears that it symbolized. My parents can be seen on the pictures I post here. My mother stands at the lonely wall in one of them, while my father is seen walking. I wonder to this day what my parents were thinking. Their body language and their silence is maybe an answer in itself. The solitude and the melancholy of the pictures is hauntingly symbolic of what these are all about...

We all took a piece of the wall. I do no longer have mine, as it has disappeared through all the relocating that took place in my life over the years. But it doesn't matter. It was just a piece of concrete. The most important souvenir is the one that I carried away from this place in my mind. The idea that nothing is written in stone. Nothing is ever final and that history, although brutal and cruel in most parts also carries moments of monumental victories.

(Please click the below to enlarge).

November Sunday.

November makes for perfect Sundays. Sleeping in late, having a delicious Irish Breakfast and then watching costume dramas the whole day. I have a whole set of them, a wonderful gift from the Irishman on his latest visit.
I feel no guilt whatsoever about not setting a foot outside into the dreary Scandinavian autumn. Outside it is dark, wet and uninviting.
Below the continuous update on my Birch tree. It has lost most of it's former elegance and is now standing half bare. I guess it is only a couple of weeks away from the culmination of this installation of my progressive photography.

Late Autumn Melancholy...

The first week of November brought with it the sensation of the imminence of the approaching winter. The weather grew colder and the sun has been absent. We even experienced the fall of the first snow, which however failed to leave any cover. A strong storm swept over the country in mid week, ripping through the trees, robbing them of the last of their foliage and leaving a barren landscape behind.

The nature offers the first glimpse of autumn melancholy. The clouds are dark and low, the air is damp and still, the trees almost bare and the remains of their fallen leaves lie in heaps everywhere. There is a feeling of sad tranquility in my surroundings, however it seems not to darken my spirits. On the contrary, it fills me with calming serenity as I watch the fragile daylight slowly disappear.

(Please click to enlarge.)

Flashback Friday: "Backwards".

This Friday I decided to take a walk back into Danish music history. Actually, a combination of Swedish and Danish.

Lisa Ekdahl is one of my all time favorite Swedish performers and I have posted her Bossa Nova inspired compilation previously. In mid nineties, she collaborated with the very talented Danish artist, Lars H.U.G and was featured as a guest performer on his album in 1996. Together they created a wonderful melancholic duet. Lisa's voice holds a certain feeling of nostalgia and fragility and completes his sensitive vocals, creating an exquisite chemistry. Furthermore, I completely love the cover of the single. The image seem so simple, yet feels so evocative and emotionally charged.

"Backwards" is to this day one of my favorite love songs, where the jazz inspired harmonies and poetic lyrics feel ever so recognizable and honest.

Gifts From A Good Friend.

I never win anything. NEVER. I have of course not participated in many contests and I have bought lottery tickets only a few times in my life, but I have never won anything.
Until now.

Recently, my very talented blog friend Holly hosted a giveaway in honour of her one year blog anniversary. Holly is one of my oldest blog friends and she is so kind, generous and absolutely talented.
In any case, I seem to have become one of the winners! About a week ago as I returned from work, there was an envelope waiting for me in the mailbox, filled with small "treasures".

Thank you Holly, the gifts were a wonderful surprise.

The Aurora(s).

Once in a while I post pictures from a favorite book of mine called "Astronomy, 365 days". It was given to me as a Christmas gift last year and I love the fact that it displays astronomy pictures for each day of the year.

For the 4th of November the picture in the book depicts a fish-eye view of a colourful auroral corona near Quebec, Canada. The reds and green are absolutely vivid and create an abstract painting in the night sky.

The Auroras, or also called the Northern Lights are spectacular light shows that can be observed in the nights sky near to polar regions. They are most frequent around the equinoxes; that means from March to April and September to October. In northern latitudes, the effect is known as the aurora borealis, named after the Roman goddess of dawn, Aurora, and the Greek name for north wind, Boreas, by Pierre Gassendi in 1621. The auroras, both surrounding the north magnetic pole (aurora borealis) and south magnetic pole (aurora australis) occur when highly charged electrons from the solar wind interact with elements in the earth's atmosphere.
As the electrons enter the earth's upper atmosphere, they will encounter atoms of oxygen and nitrogen at altitudes from 20 to 200 miles above the earth's surface. The color of the aurora depends on which atom is struck, and the altitude of the meeting.

* Green - oxygen, up to 150 miles in altitude
* Red - oxygen, above 150 miles in altitude
* Blue - nitrogen, up to 60 miles in altitude
* Purple/violet - nitrogen, above 60 miles in altitude

Although I live in the north, I have yet to experience the magic of Northern Lights. The only Aurora I was familiar with as a child was oddly enough a ship. Or rather a Russian cruiser that became a symbol for the Russian Revolution, as it was taught to us in school in the former communist bloc. On the 7th of November 1917 (25th October 1917 in Julian calendar), the refusal of an order for the Aurora to take to sea sparked the October Revolution. At 9.45 p.m. on that date, a blank shot from her forecastle gun signaled the start of the assault on the Winter Palace, which was to be the last episode of the revolution.

A Drive In The Countryside.

When I was driving back from the airport on a very early Friday morning last week, although my mood was somber, the drive home was simply stunning. Somehow the beauty of the nature around helped me to forget about my sadness for just a while...

We were up early that morning, it was still dark and the world was half asleep. As we headed south on the highway, we watched the sun rise on a pristine autumn sky, while the clouds retreated slowly. It was one of those unforgettable moments in time, sharing a simple yet beautiful experience in silence...
The air was cold and fresh and held a promise of a beautiful fall day.

When I was driving back alone, the deserted country roads offered stunning views and I could not resist taking a few shots out of the car. The beauty of the autumn countryside made the drive one of a kind.
(Please click images below to enlarge.)

It seems also somewhat appropriate to mention that I have joined the Giving Thanks Challenge hosted by South Breeze Farm. I will post a single sentence each day, under the image in my sidebar, throughout the month of November, listing the things in my life that I am thankful for.

Beauty And Brains.

As it goes, there is major misconception that the above statement might not be true. Beautiful women are often considered exactly that; beautiful. They are judged by their appearance and no one even assumes there can be anything of substance to find in the beautiful shell.

As a woman in the world of science, I pay attention to women that came before me. In no way can ever claim to be in the same league as any of the famous females in history, that contributed to the changes in the world of science and technology. But I like to think about the fact that they existed. These strong women that made their mark and excelled because they worked hard and devoted their life to something they loved and believed in.
I also admit being somewhat shallow relishing in the fact that some of them were indeed beautiful. Or I guess, it might be my sense for that, which is aesthetic in an intelligent manner. An appealing woman, that pays attention to her looks, yet seems to posses an open mind, astuteness, curiosity and uncanny genius, encompasses my natural ideal.

The other day I watched a short documentary about a life of exactly a woman like that, the Austrian-born American actress and scientist Hedy Lamarr.

Considered an international beauty icon and often proclaimed to be the most beautiful woman in the world, Hedy was mainly known for her charisma conveyed by the silver screen.
Already as a teenager she was cast in movie roles and in 1933, when she was only nineteen, she married Friedrich Mandl, a Vienna-based arms manufacturer, 13 years her senior. Mandl prevented her from pursuing her acting career, and instead took her to meetings with technicians and business partners. In these meetings, the mathematically-talented Lamarr learned about military technology.
Unhappy in her marriage, she managed to leave her husband and escaped secretly to Paris and later to London.

In Hollywood, she was usually cast as glamorous and seductive. Her American debut was in Algiers (1938).
At one point she lived as a neighbour to the avant garde composer George Antheil, who had experimented with automated control of musical instruments. Together, they developed a "Secret Communications System" which they envisioned to be used against the Nazis in World War II. By manipulating radio frequencies at irregular intervals between transmission and reception, they invented an early form of signal encryption.

Lamarr and Anthiel received a patent in 1941, but the enormous significance of their invention was not realized until decades later, during the Cuban Missile Crisis and subsequently emerged in numerous military applications, after the patent expired. But most importantly, the "spread spectrum" technology that Lamarr helped to invent would stimulate the development of digital communications and wireless operations, such as those that today are in use in ordinary cellular phones.

Hedy Lamarr received recognition later in life for her invention and likewise have been featured in magazines, adds and articles over the years.
She became an American citizen and lived in Florida until her death in 2000.

The Reign Of Dark Days.

November has arrived. This month is feared and disliked by many Scandinavians, as it signifies the onset of the shortest days of the year. By now, our daylight has decreased by eight hours since the summer solstice and this loss of light is clearly palpable. Almost a whole day has been taken from us and we are still about three hours short of the absolute record which will occur in about two months.

I personally do not dislike November. It is a somewhat overlooked month I feel. To me these following thirty days equal a period of anticipation. There will be a certain joy in the air as the holiday season begins. The lack of light will very soon be compensated by the multitude of Christmas and decoration lights that will line the streets and illuminate the stores. The air will carry an atmosphere of happiness and laughter, despite the uninviting feel of stormy, very dark days, bare trees and lack of sunshine.

Below, yet again, my traditional birch tree update. You will notice the pile of wood in front of it is missing, as my handy Irishman cut it all up for me and it is now stored securely, drying up for next years fire wood.
The tree itself is now completely ready for its winter sleep. By each day, it looses more of its copper colored leaves and my guess is that it will stand completely bare before the end of this month.