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lördag 29 december 2012
fredag 28 december 2012
torsdag 27 december 2012
onsdag 26 december 2012
söndag 23 december 2012
lördag 22 december 2012
torsdag 20 december 2012
tisdag 11 december 2012
måndag 10 december 2012
söndag 9 december 2012
The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top
The snow is softly falling
The air is still in the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly calling
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead
My glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon each page
The words of love you sent me
If I could know within my heart
That you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are lifting
The morning light steals across my window pane
Where webs of snow are drifting
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
And to be once again with you
Just like birds of a feather
We too have followed the golden sun
It feels so good,
Knowin' the watchman's gone
If I give you a rose, buddy
Would you please bury it in the fields?
I seen a rose
Watchin' it all fold out
There's a train down at the station
It's come to carry my bones away
Two engines on
Twenty-one coaches long
End to end
Twenty-one coaches bend
The watchman's out
Kickin' the bums about
If I wait for the right moment
You can bet I'll climb aboard unseen
I've done it before
I know I can do it in my sleep
The watchman's out
Kickin'the bums about
The watchman's out
Kickin' your dreams about
As I leave you in the sunset
Got one more nothin' I'd like to say
"You don't know me
A son of the sea am I"
As I say to you, my brother
If you live to follow the golden sun
You better beware
Knowin' the watchman's always there
If you find me feedin' daisies
Please turn my face up to the sky
And leave me be
Watchin' the moon roll by
Whatever I was
You know it was all because
I've been on the town
Washin' the bullshit down
The watchman's out
Kickin' your dreams about
It feels so good
Knowin' the watchman's gone
It's like a song
Knowin' the watchman's gone.
lördag 8 december 2012
fredag 7 december 2012
I would be much pleased to see some heroic, shrewd, fully-informed, healthy-bodied, middle-aged, beard-facedAmerican blacksmith or boatman come down from the West across the Alleghanies, and walk into the Presidency, dressed in a clean suit of working attire, and with the tan all over his face, breast, and arms; I would certainly vote for that sort of man, possessing the due requirements, before any other candidate.
![La Pia de' Tolomei, by Dante Gabriel Rosetti [1868-80] (Public Domain Image)](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_v8v4EetyppyfXmGItzia6TMGq8GpRhvOQq3-ckDh9UokPd1vSkL0lVSUQtSqb3xwNAqm9PQ3zQ9N3Nx0oInV1fuurGNSLlNYJDbPQZA6evzW2RdQ7i=s0-d)
torsdag 6 december 2012
måndag 3 december 2012
söndag 2 december 2012
Citat
The Art and Craft of Story Architecture
Story structure is the sequence of your scenes that result in a story well told.
Story architecture is the empowerment of those scenes through compelling characterizations, powerful thematic intentions, a fresh and intriguing conceptual engine and a writing voice brings it all to life with personality and energy.
Structure is craft. It can be studied, learned, practiced and implemented. It is not talent-dependent (talent being a relative and elusive term), it is effort-dependent andknowledge-dependent.
Architecture is art. It, too, can be studied, learned, emulated and implemented. It istalent-dependent, with the acknowledgement that talent itself can be cultivated and evolved through learning and practice.
Not every writer is born to be John Updike. But every writer can bring architecture to their story, provided they open themselves to it. Provided they don’t ascribe to thethere-are-no-rules school of writing and immerse themselves in the proven truths that successful writers validate on every shelf in every bookstore you’ve ever been in.
Story architecture, in this sense, is what separates a story from the crowd. It is the differentiator between non-published and published writing.
Gravity sucks. Always has, always will. And that’s not a bad thing.
Especially when you think of it this way: gravity is what empowers us to dance.
onsdag 28 november 2012
torsdag 22 november 2012
tisdag 20 november 2012
måndag 19 november 2012
tisdag 13 november 2012
måndag 12 november 2012
söndag 11 november 2012
onsdag 7 november 2012
tisdag 6 november 2012
söndag 4 november 2012
lördag 3 november 2012
onsdag 31 oktober 2012
torsdag 25 oktober 2012
onsdag 24 oktober 2012
tisdag 23 oktober 2012
fredag 19 oktober 2012
tisdag 16 oktober 2012
måndag 15 oktober 2012
söndag 14 oktober 2012
Länk
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=bbc+documentary&oq=bbc+d&gs_l=youtube.1.0.0l10.197445.207411.0.209131.6.6.0.0.0.0.79.270.6.6.0...0.0...1ac.1._H6LjJ_uD9E
torsdag 11 oktober 2012
onsdag 10 oktober 2012
måndag 8 oktober 2012
fredag 5 oktober 2012
tisdag 2 oktober 2012
onsdag 26 september 2012
St Dominic's Preview
I'd been working on this song about the scene going down in Belfast. And I wasn't sure what I was writing but the central image seemed to be this church called St Dominic's where people were gathering to pray or hear a mass for peace in Northern Ireland. A few weeks later I was playing at a gig in Reno, Nevada. I picked up a newspaper, and there in front of me was an announcement about a mass for peace in Belfast to be said the next day at St Dominic's Church in San Francisco. Totally blew me out. Like I'd never even heard of a St Dominic's Church.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Dominic's_Preview_(song)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Dominic's_Preview_(song)
tisdag 25 september 2012
lördag 22 september 2012
Mind mapping
http://studier.ifokus.se/discussions/4d717ae3b9cb4622330887ed-bok-mindmapping
http://studier.ifokus.se/articles/4d717936b9cb46224408659d-bok-the-mind-map-book
http://www.mind-mapping.co.uk/make-mind-map.htm
http://www.studieteknik.info/default.asp?url=http%3A//www.studieteknik.info/rwdx/cache/mind-mapping_843_ZAEIU143533.asp
http://www.mindmapping.com/theory-behind-mind-maps.php
http://www.studygs.net/svenska/mapping.htm
onsdag 19 september 2012
måndag 17 september 2012
söndag 16 september 2012
lördag 15 september 2012
fredag 14 september 2012
torsdag 13 september 2012
söndag 9 september 2012
lördag 8 september 2012
Ella Fitzgerald documentary
Mer än någon annan, upptäcker jag när jag ser och lyssnar på den här dokumentären, så sjunger hon min barndom.
Existentialism
Köpte LP:n i aug./sep. 1970 i Uppsala.
Texterna fantastiska & trots att jag inte lyssnat på dem på 40 år, så minns jag stora delar av dem.
fredag 7 september 2012
torsdag 6 september 2012
onsdag 5 september 2012
Raymond Chandler
“… [As a young man] I couldn’t write fiction to save my life. I couldn’t get a character in or out of a room. I couldn’t even get his hat off. I learned to write fiction by a method which I have recommended to other young struggling writers I tried to help, but no soap. Everything they did had to be for sale. What I did was take a novelette, I think it was by [Erle Stanley] Gardner, and make a detailed synopsis of it. From this synopsis I wrote the story, then compared it with the original to see where he, Gardner, had got an effect and I had got nothing. I did this over and over with the same story. I think I did learn a great deal that way. My first novelette for Black Mask took me five months to write and I got $180 for it. …”
http://chrisroutledge.co.uk/2009/01/16/raymond-chandlers-advice-to-writers/
http://chrisroutledge.co.uk/2009/01/16/raymond-chandlers-advice-to-writers/
måndag 3 september 2012
fredag 31 augusti 2012
torsdag 30 augusti 2012
onsdag 29 augusti 2012
tisdag 28 augusti 2012
måndag 27 augusti 2012
tisdag 21 augusti 2012
måndag 20 augusti 2012
söndag 19 augusti 2012
onsdag 15 augusti 2012
Diverse
Äntligen är det sommar, fast vi är i mitten av augusti. Går över ängarna borta vid Erstaviken med hunden.
I shorts och jeansjacka.
Det byggs mycket i vårt villaområde, tidigare till mitt förtret, men nu får jag en barndomskänsla av att vara ledig och ströva förbi vägmaskiner och grävskopor i solen.
Väger 82,5.
Tänker på Ghost Writer, där spökskrivaren säger ngt i stil med "orden finns där, men de är i fel ordning".
Kanske det är det som är det största felet med min gigantiska självbiografi?
Lars Ardelius skrev om sina böcker tre gånger innan han gav ut dem. Utan att blicka tillbaka på det tidigare manuset, alltså började om från början?
En internationell bästsäljande författare skriver om sina manus sex gånger. Utan att blicka tillbaka på det tidigare manuset. Tror jag.
Skriver om min självbiografi från scratch, och parallellt på en terapeutisk roman, en sådan där som man skriver för sitt eget höga nöjes skull, men med självbiografiska inslag, fast än så länge i begränsad omfattning. Roligare att skriva om fantasifigurer som ibland lånar drag av människor man en gång känt.
I shorts och jeansjacka.
Det byggs mycket i vårt villaområde, tidigare till mitt förtret, men nu får jag en barndomskänsla av att vara ledig och ströva förbi vägmaskiner och grävskopor i solen.
Väger 82,5.
Tänker på Ghost Writer, där spökskrivaren säger ngt i stil med "orden finns där, men de är i fel ordning".
Kanske det är det som är det största felet med min gigantiska självbiografi?
Lars Ardelius skrev om sina böcker tre gånger innan han gav ut dem. Utan att blicka tillbaka på det tidigare manuset, alltså började om från början?
En internationell bästsäljande författare skriver om sina manus sex gånger. Utan att blicka tillbaka på det tidigare manuset. Tror jag.
Skriver om min självbiografi från scratch, och parallellt på en terapeutisk roman, en sådan där som man skriver för sitt eget höga nöjes skull, men med självbiografiska inslag, fast än så länge i begränsad omfattning. Roligare att skriva om fantasifigurer som ibland lånar drag av människor man en gång känt.
tisdag 14 augusti 2012
söndag 29 juli 2012
lördag 28 juli 2012
tisdag 17 juli 2012
fredag 13 juli 2012
torsdag 12 juli 2012
En katt i Paris
Klichéfri, annorlunda, mycket underhållande tecknad fransk film. Såg den i förrgår med äldsta barnbarnet.
Även det yngsta plus min dotter gillar den.
http://www.dn.se/kultur-noje/filmrecensioner/en-katt-i-paris
Även det yngsta plus min dotter gillar den.
http://www.dn.se/kultur-noje/filmrecensioner/en-katt-i-paris
War Horse
Såg Spielbergs "War Horse" igår. Sällan 1:a världskriget skildras så ingående på film. Klart sevärd.
http://www.svd.se/kultur/film-war-horse_6875713.svd
Filmtips
Som filmmissbrukare ser jag en film per kväll, ibland två. Den här stod ut, "Blue Valentine".
Läs Jan Söderqvists uppskattande recension i Svenska Dagbladet:
"Det är det starkaste som har visats på en duk på mycket länge."
http://www.svd.se/kultur/film/otackt-klarsynt-tragedi_6055693.svd
Läs Jan Söderqvists uppskattande recension i Svenska Dagbladet:
"Det är det starkaste som har visats på en duk på mycket länge."
http://www.svd.se/kultur/film/otackt-klarsynt-tragedi_6055693.svd
onsdag 4 juli 2012
söndag 1 juli 2012
måndag 18 juni 2012
söndag 17 juni 2012
Skogspromenad
Så här års bevittnar vi Moder Naturs försommarfest. Hon sparar ej på effekter som blomdofter ljuvligare än någon parfym, fågelsång skönare än någon musik av mänsklig hand och tablåer överlägsna den yppersta tavelkonst.
Gratulerar mig själv till att ha gått med hunden i smörblomstäckta hagar och i skogarna runt om i den ljusa försommarkvällen istället för att ha suttit framför TV:n eller datorn.
Tagit många kort med min Iphone, tänkta som värmekälla i den kommande vintern.
Och i nämnda manick har jag skrivit anteckningar. Idag om de vita näckrosorna i sjön där sångsvanen häckar, om silverblänket nedanför bron vid Gammelström, som fick mig att tänka på solkatter gjorda med en spegel. Tänkte på texten av Björn von Rosen, som jag just nu skriver av och grundligt analyserar: "Sommarfest under vattnet" i boken "Gröna Kammaren". Och jag tänkte på Bambi, när jag såg ett rådjurskid, max ett par, tre dar gammalt, med sin mamma på en grusväg.
onsdag 13 juni 2012
tisdag 12 juni 2012
fredag 8 juni 2012
onsdag 30 maj 2012
söndag 27 maj 2012
söndag 20 maj 2012
torsdag 17 maj 2012
tisdag 15 maj 2012
måndag 14 maj 2012
torsdag 3 maj 2012
onsdag 2 maj 2012
tisdag 1 maj 2012
måndag 30 april 2012
söndag 29 april 2012
lördag 28 april 2012
fredag 27 april 2012
måndag 23 april 2012
söndag 22 april 2012
lördag 21 april 2012
fredag 20 april 2012
torsdag 19 april 2012
lördag 14 april 2012
måndag 9 april 2012
måndag 2 april 2012
söndag 1 april 2012
lördag 31 mars 2012
fredag 30 mars 2012
söndag 25 mars 2012
lördag 24 mars 2012
fredag 23 mars 2012
Sång av Tumbull Stickney 1902 i min översättning
En knopp har slagit ut på översta grenen
(Sjöng hämplingen i mitt hjärta idag)
Jag vet var det bleka gröna gräset visar
Vid en liten rännil, vid sidan av vägen,
Och jorden är våt
(En gök i min hjärna sade: ”Inte ännu”)
Jag fångade en fluga i törnrosen
(Sjöng hämplingen i mitt hjärta idag)
Sistliden natt, mitt huvud instoppat under min vinge
Drömde jag om ett grönt mån-mal som sken
Genom junis ormbunkar
(En gök sade i min hjärna: ”Redan nu?”)
Adjö, för de vackra löven har fallit
(Sjöng hämplingen i mitt hjärta idag)
(Sjöng hämplingen i mitt hjärta idag)
Den sista gyllene biten av höglandets höstackar
Och det mesta av sommaren har blåst bort
Och det mesta av sommaren har blåst bort
Genom trädgårdens grind
(En gök sade i min hjärna: ”För sent”)
onsdag 14 mars 2012
söndag 4 mars 2012
ON THE WINGS OF A NIGHTINGALE (Paul McCartney) The Everly Brothers - 1984 When I love, I get a feeling Like I'm traveling through the sky On the wings of a nightingale As I ride, my head is reeling And I don't even wonder why On the wings of a nightingale I'll fly I'll go land and sea, I'll be thinking of you and me Couldn't ask for a better place to be Oh, I can feel something happening Oh, I can feel something happening Oh, I can feel something happening to me So hold my hand, I got a feeling That the journey has just begun On the wings of a nightingale And if you like we'll fly together To the land of eternal sun On the wings of a nightingale of love I'll go land and sea, I'll be thinking of you and me Couldn't ask for a better place to be Oh, I can feel something happening Oh, I can feel something happening Oh, I can feel something happening to me When I love, I get a feeling Like I'm traveling through the sky On the wings of a nightingale On the wings of a nightingale Oooh oooh oooh On the wings of a nightingale
fredag 2 mars 2012
söndag 26 februari 2012
lördag 25 februari 2012
fredag 24 februari 2012
I see Christian pilgrims so redeemed from sin
Called out of darkness a new life to begin
Were you ever in the valley when the way is dark and dim
Did you ever drink the cup of loneliness with Him
Did you ever have them laugh at you and say it was a fake
The stand that you so boldly for the Lord did take
Did you ever have them mock at you and say in ways quite grim
Did you ever drink the cup of loneliness with Him
Oh my friends 'tis bitter sweet while here on earthly sod
To follow in the footsteps that our dear Savior trod
To suffer with the Savior and when the way is dark and dim
To think of the bitter cup of loneliness with Him
Called out of darkness a new life to begin
Were you ever in the valley when the way is dark and dim
Did you ever drink the cup of loneliness with Him
Did you ever have them laugh at you and say it was a fake
The stand that you so boldly for the Lord did take
Did you ever have them mock at you and say in ways quite grim
Did you ever drink the cup of loneliness with Him
Oh my friends 'tis bitter sweet while here on earthly sod
To follow in the footsteps that our dear Savior trod
To suffer with the Savior and when the way is dark and dim
To think of the bitter cup of loneliness with Him
And now my friends you've asked me what makes me sad and still
And why my brow is darkened like the clouds upon the hill
Run in your ponies closer and I'll tell to you my tale
Of Utah Carol my partner and his last ride on the trail
We rode the range together and rode it side by side
I loved him like a brother, and I wept when Utah died
We were rounding up one morning when work was almost done
When on his side the cattle started on a frightened run
Underneath the saddle that the boss's daughter rode
Utah that very morning had placed a bright red robe
So the saddle might ride easy for Lenore his little friend
And it was this red blanket that brought him to his end
The blanket was now dragging behind her on the ground
The frightened cattle saw it and charged it with a bound
Lenore then saw her danger and turned her pony's face
And leaning in the saddle tied the blanket to its place
But in leaning lost her balance, fell in front of that wild tide
"Lay still Lenore I'm coming" were the words that Utah cried
His faithful pony saw her and reached her in a bound
I thought he'd been successful, and raised her from the ground
But the weight upon the saddle had not been felt before
His backcinch snapped like thunder and he fell by Lenore
Picking up the blanket he swung it over his head
And started cross the prairie, "Lay still Lenore" he said
When he got the stampede turned and saved Lenore his friend
He turned to face the cattle and meet his fatal end
His six gun flashed like lightning, the report rang loud and clear
As the cattle rushed and killed him he dropped the leading steer
On his funeral morning I heard the preacher say
I hope we'll all meet Utah at the roundup far away
Then they wrapped him in a blanket that saved his little friend
And it was this red blanket that brought him to his end
torsdag 23 februari 2012
söndag 5 februari 2012
lördag 4 februari 2012
tisdag 31 januari 2012
lördag 28 januari 2012
fredag 27 januari 2012
måndag 23 januari 2012
fredag 20 januari 2012
torsdag 19 januari 2012
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