Tuesday 7 October 2014

You paint yourself - Finland 4 :The sailor

                                                    and so it came that off I sailed...
                                                    into the army sea...
                                                    ready to become a true officer....

but it did not take me more than a week before I noticed it really was not my thing.  =D

Don´t know if it was the way they marched us to the toilets, or the fact I hated the idea of having to poo in group, having friendly conversations with a bunch of other guys pressing their foodly contents into the bowls...
        or was it the "Taakse poistu" endless game they played with us... having us run back and forth without any point to it.
     IT might have been waking up in the morning to a screaming officer... or skiing after a bunch of guys who were born with skis under their feet... desperately trying to keep up... watching them disappear into the distance... then suddenly seeing them again, taking a break... the length of a cigarette (tupakan mittainen taukko)...
                                    feeling joyful relief knowing that not too far away is waiting rest....
only to find out that it does not take THAT long to smoke a cigarette...
                                                                                 and the group is leaving rested as I arrive to the once resting place sweating and out of breath.

   Maybe it was the fact that when I complained about the unfairness of putting a Spaniard to ski with Finns... they solved the problem by exchanging my light attack "rynnäkkö kivääri" for a heavy machine gun.... but
    I certainly did not like it either when we had to pedal on our bikes for hours under the guidance of an officer who supposedly knew where we were headed to...
        only to find out... when our groins were already bleeding...
            that he was lost and had been so - probably for the biggest part of his life! =D

                                                       One thing or another
                                                      the little gentleman inside
                                                      decided he had way too much on his hands...

and it might be a good idea to skip the "officer" plan.

   Being a person with a decent IQ... I figured out that the best way to ensure not getting selected for the officer training would be not to learn the language too quick... in fact... I decided to give the impression I was not learning at all.
     However... because of my dislike for the place I made sure I did superbly in all competitions where "kuntsarit" (points for free weekends and days off) were distributed. So... I ran fine, shot great... and assembled my weapon in no time... earning many days off with my girlfriend
                        ... allways making sure I was going in the wrong direction or doing the wrong thing when delivered an order in Finnish.

                                                    Believe it or not... my plan backfired....
and I found my name on the list for those chosen to become officers.
 I think any other time in my life I might have accepted this - as destiny...
                                                                but not now: I marched into the Captains office and in my most brutal Finnish ( much like the language Tarzan used when he met his sweet-heart) I asked how I was supposed to lead a bunch of guys into war IF they could not understand me. I guess my Finnish was bad enough... cause despite the Captain not understanding at first - he got my point.

   I became a foot soldier " jääkäri" and was posted in Helsinki because of my talent with other languages =D
     A much easier life with two big advantages... I could see normal civilians every day and I had time to do some drawing!!!!

                                                            Thus, a happier me survived
                                                           what was left of my eight months,
and wondered, when the time was over... if they had made me a "kunnia jääkäri" (honourable foot soldier) because of my language... or drawing skills
                                                                     =D
Some dreams however...
                      don´t die easy.... and for some reason there still was a spark in me wanting the title of officer.

I was a free man again... seeking for what it might be I would like to do with my life... when I saw an ad calling young people in to try and make it to pilot schooling.  I am not sure if around this time I had been to watch "Top Gun"...
                                   or if my mothers tales of her times at Finnair with hot shot pilots (after the second world war) had stirred something in me... but
                                                     I decided it might be worth a shot.
               
                                                        I know I loved the idea that
                                                        "only a few have what it takes"...

           so I was totally out of myself when after the extensive tests I got accepted!

                                                   =D =D =D
                                                  H   U   U   U   U  U  U  U  R  A  Y  Y
    sempre fi!!!!
         YES!!!!!
          I was so much closer to becomming an officer now!

         The wonderful thing, of being a sailor at sea... is that winds can change at any moment.Its unpredictable, its fun... its an adventure.

There was another fire burning in me... one that had been warming my soul for many years. I believe the fact that I had been accepted to pilot training proved to me that my officer desire was achievable... 
                   so before accepting I decided to explore the possibility of a career as an artist.

I was not successful in Finland - made it to the final rounds at what used to be "Ateneum"... but was told I was not eligible because I had too much of an own style already -  I was not malleable....

      but... refusing to give up... I did make it, in the end... to a much more interesting adventure!

                                         I was 22,
                                                       when I jumped into my canoe


                                         and rode the waves... off
  
                                                                   to the BIG APPLE!
                                          Back in the days when there still were 2 towers!

                                          

      




   
                                                         

Thursday 2 October 2014

on LOVE 2 - playfull joy


                                          with Napoleon on me =D

I have heard it said... that people when hearing they are going to die... oftentimes live what is left to live,with a sense of relief. They suddenly get things into perspective... re-evaluate their lives and what is important. It becomes clear to them that everyday is a gift that has to be valued and enjoyed.
 The strange thing is,
                                  we are all going to die...
we just seem to think it will be far away in the future, or then we don´t like to think about it at all.
   

                                         Picasso's dancing girl becomes the joy of life

   When I was in hospital with Pancreatitis I visited the threshold of afterlife a couple of times. I recall reading an article (while recovering) about the 5 things people who are gonna die believe are the most important in our lives. Time has passed, and unfortunately I just seem to remember the second... time with friends... people said they should have spent more time with friends and concentrated, been aware, of the quality of those moments.

 On my list  definitely number one would be children.
      Spending time with them, enjoying them... having your own! I have been blessed with two wonderful ones, Napoleon and Inda. A boy and a girl - who could ask for more! =D It is through them I have learnt to see the joy of life, the wonder of living in a new way. But what is more important, it is through them I have come to understand what love is all about. Hard to explain in words, actually impossible,but when you see in a child's eyes the joy of recognizing you, there is a moment there so bright, so pure, so amazingly colourful that nothing else in the world comes close to it.

                                                         My throne of plenty

With children everything comes from the heart.The joy, the laughter, when they run... in the moment of curiosity. Children have a way of taking you back there... to the core of existence... the wonder of life. It is just a matter of letting go, forgetting the serious fool you have become... and living the moment through their heart.

                                         love of life... through Napoleon.

A friend of mine asked me what  my favourite moment is when I am painting. Without a doubt... it would be the beginning. The canvas is blank, ready and waiting for you to mess it up. Attracting you to play, be free... wild. A child reaching out and shouting: come and have FUN with me!
 I like to leave starts for the weekend... somehow society has convinced me that THAT is when you are allowed to play and have fun - the week is for working!!!!!
But...
            sometimes...
                in a moment of mischief...
                       I begin a painting in the middle of the week! =D =D =D
    and it feels..
          like if I were a child, putting my hand into a jar full with colours....
                 and experimenting what happens when I press it against a white wall =D

                                             
There is only one artist for me who comes close to the wonder of being a child: PICASSO. The man really knew how to play!!!! i have sketched his work, I have painted it... carved it... stood in front of it in awe and wonder...
                                            and smiled!
   The vitality in his work and the way he beautifully transmits talent through play is amazing... a true master in how to approach life - and art.
    Simple
             sharp
                   true.

                                         Playful talent - as captured by humble me! =D

The beauty of play and fun is its freedom. Pure sizzling energy exploding in laughter. THAT is to be alive, those are the moments you will take with you to the afterlife.

                                         I am alive with INDA.

Then the day comes to an end, and the child goes to sleep. Cuddled in bed... you can feel as you lovingly watch you child how play has been transported to another place - not too different, cause I sense dream and life are quite the same for children. Anything can happen, everything is new.



You look, and think...My children are the one thing I love more than myself.
      Love in the true sense of what love is, not expecting anything in return, simply feeling warmth and gratefulness for being able to be there and share. Hoping to be allowed to give. Wanting to make sure all is well. Taking part in the wonder of living. 

Children are the key to life.
    Forget yourself, forget serious, mature, experienced and well bred.
                                       And feel.
                                          Our children should know... they owe us nothing.
                                          It is we who are in debt for having had the pleasure
                                          to be with them =D <3