The beauty of art: Part 1

I discovered the beauty of art when I was 19 years old and worked as an au-pair in France. What better place than Paris to enjoy art? The mother in the family where I worked was interested in art and I read many of her books about different painters.

Every time I had a day off I would go to Paris and stroll through museums and watch different exhibitions.

One of my favorite artists painted this:

He is seen as the founder of a movement within art and he often painted the same scenes multiple times, to show how it changed depending on the time of day and time of year.

• Do you know the artist?
• The name of the painting?
• What this type of art is called?
• In what museum the original can be seen?
• How does this painting make you feel?

Let me know!

The answers are available in this blogspot.

I know all about your annoying colleague

"He drives me crazy!" 

Johnny flopped down on the armchair next to Sondra.

"We agree on what needs to be done, he gets the action point - we even add the action point to the minutes of meeting for goodness sake - and then still, he stands there looking all surprised when I ask him about it. Like; Oh, was I supposed to do that?"

Sondra put down her phone. The time for checking her private mail over a cup of coffee was apparently over. After listening a few more seconds to Johnny’s ranting she interrupted: 

"That book you borrowed from me. Did you bring it today?" 

He looked up, bewildered. 

"What? What book? What has that got to do with anything?"

"You borrowed it from me last week and you said you would give it back today, since I need it for the lecture tomorrow."

"Really? Was that tomorrow? I didn't know it was tomorrow." 

She started humming.  

"What? Why are you humming? You can't even keep a tune!" 

She stood up, getting ready to leave. 

"I hum it well enough for you to hear what song it is, right?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Which one is it?"

"A Michael Jackson song." 

She rolled her eyes. 

"Which one?!”

"Well, the one... what’s its name... Man in the mirror."

She smiled triumphantly and clapped her hands so loud he jumped. "Exactly!"

As the saying goes:  

‘You see the mote in your brother’s eye, but you do not see the beam in your own’

Picture: The Parable of the Mote and the Beam by Domenico Fetti 

You may not like to hear it, but often what annoys you in others (and we all know this is not only applicable to colleagues but also to partners and - definitely - our kids…) are things you don’t like about yourself.

Not convinced? 

Take 5 min and check out this video with Marshall Smith...

One day she won't mind. Today is not yet that day.

"Growing old is a lot better than the alternative", he said.

She knew that of course, having lost friends who died far too young. She knew her advancing age was a blessing rather than a curse.

She knew her age (even though she often had to remind herself of the exact number by subtracting her birthyear from the current year) and she did not mind being the age she was. Of course it was so much better than the alternative.

"Being old is one thing, looking old is another", she muttered, 

and she simply had not gotten used to looking old yet. In fact, she was not even aware of how age had gotten to her face and hands until his casual remark made it blatantly clear.

Wrinkles are just the scars or all your smiles, he added, 

slowly realizing how her thoughts had turned his childishly innocent remark into a sharp arrow. He, who had once said it was her smile that had caught his attention so many years ago.

She knew that of course, she knew it so well. She tried to pull the arrow out of her heart by saying to herself that she would rather be wrinkly and smiling than expressionless and blank.

Her rational part also knew she would continue to look with pity at those using botox to stop a natural process in its tracks instead of just aging with dignity.

It was easy to know all of that when she was not the one with the wrinkles. When she was not the one being approached in shops by people who tried to sell her creams that would "reduce her expression lines".

She knew it, but she was not yet ready to accept it. Not yet ready to look at her hands and see her mother's instead.

 Not yet ready to look in the mirror and notice that the wrinkles around her mouth did not go away even when the smile did.

One day she knew she would not care.
One day she knew she would look at her wrinkles the same way she looked at her big butt and sharp nose;

Like good old friends that you like; not despite but because of their oddities. 

One day she won't mind.
But today is not yet that day.

The importance of imagination

Last week I had the opportunity to talk about writing at the Scandinavian school in Madrid. About 40 pupils listened to me as I talked about what to do to turn a story into a book.

I described three major steps:

• Use your imagination
• Decide what to write (make a plan), write and re-write
• Share your story with others

One of the girls did the last part without any hesitation as she gave me her story about "Lilla flickan / the little girl". A lovely gift.

I encouraged the students to use their imagination when they create stories. Unlike our physical reality, our imagination is limitless. And what is more, it is unique. It is by using your imagination you can write a story that no one else can come up with. 

When I asked the students what they thought Einstein meant when he said

Imagination is more important than knowledge

I got great answers. One answer was:

If Einstein had not used his imagination, he would not have found out the things he did. 

A lovely and true statement. Knowledge can only take you that far. Aquiring knowledge often means that you learn something others already know. But if you want to break new ground, do something that is unique, you need your imagination.

Whether you want to write a book, develop theories for how the universe works or solve your everyday problems - your imagniation is your best friend.

Use it uninhibitedly.

It's not about the money

It's all about the money

It's all about the dum dum didudumdum

I don't think it's funny

to see us fade away...

Many believe what Meja once sang, that it is all about the money. I beg to differ with that belief.

My family and I just spent a lovely week in Morocco. One of the places we visited was the souks in Marrakech. 

In the souks you can buy anything from spices to lamps to giant brass lions. Our guide informed us that bargaining is the norm and that we should pay about 50% of the sum the salesmen would start with.

So we (well, actually my husband, I prefer fixed-price-written-on-a-price-tag kind of shopping) ended up bargaining. A magic box that was supposedly worth 200 would become ours for 120 or so.

The currency we are talking about is Moroccan dirham. During our visit a dirham was worth about as much as 1 Swedish krona, or 10 euro cent. 80 dirham difference really did not matter to us.

It was not about the money. It was about not wanting to feel like stupid, gullible tourists. 

Millionaires do not want to lose money  either, not even small amounts, as this 3 min video with Marshall Goldsmith shows us.

In the video we hear how a millionaire donates 340 million dollars(!) to poor people in India, but gets unhappy about having to pay 20 dollars as a penalty when he starts sentences with the word but, which his coach had told him not to do.

It was not about the money. It was about not wanting to feel like a loser.

What about yourself? 

Are you happy with your salary?

Chances are you are not. Many people are dissatisfied with their salary.
However, many studies show that the dissatisfaction is not related to the actual amount of money. It's related to comparing your salary with the salaries you think others have. Or, as a person in this article puts it:

"Perception of pay is more important than what’s true,” he said. “If you think you’re underpaid, but objectively overpaid, you are not going to be satisfied.”

It is not about the money. It is about how we choose to feel about money. Or, as I put it in my own version of Meja's song:

It's not about the money

It's about feeling dum dum didudumdum

I don't think it's funny

to be treated like a fool

The story is ready! Let's see how it will become a book

Those of you who read "Nästa skrivprojekt" (in Swedish only) can read about how I have turned my latest story into a script.

This script was sent today, to four different publishers:

These are publishers that receive many, many scripts each day, so the probability that they will select my script  is low.

So what if all of these (after the standard 2-3 months waiting time) say:

Thanks for sending in your script, but...

Well, if that will be the case I will send the script to a second round of publishers.

The second round of publishers will be smaller publishers. They have less possibilities to reach a large number of readers, but  they can be a great way to get a book published and in the hands of a smaller number of readers. I have had good experiences with my first two books at the publishers Oppenheim and Idus.

What if also the second round of publishers will say "Thank you but..."

Well, then I will look into self publishing. Booqla provides a service for those who want to publish their own e-books. This is what they say:

If you want an opportunity to be an acclaimed author, get proficient in your life and fulfill your great purpose of being a published author, there are three main advantages of self publishing that you need to know today. They are Control of Production, publish runs and profitability.

So, sooner or later, one way or the other, my latest story will become my third book. I hope many of you will want to read it!

No, good intentions are not enough

Lara walks into the living room. Miko, her five year old son, is sitting on the floor. Scattered around him are snippets of something vaguely familiar. When he turns around, big smile on his face and scissors in his hand, she understands where the snippets come from.

“But sweetheart, why have you cut my driver’s license into pieces?”

Miko’s smile fades a little as he hears the tone in mummy’s voice.

“I needed a picture of you”, he stretches out his hand. 

 “For your mother’s day card.” 

In his hand is a carefully cut out picture of her face.

When it comes to kids, all that matters is the good intention. Lara will of course hug her son tightly before she starts the process of getting a new driver’s license.

However, from grown-ups, from ourselves, we can expect more. 

Good intentions should not be used as an excuse for not doing well.

You may disagree with this opinion. There are many who think that good intentions and hard work should be enough.

Like those who work at a company with the best of intentions, but without creating results, who still expect  a yearly raise and a promotion.

Or coaches in sports that yell at the kids on their team, making them hate the sport they once loved, or even worse, making them dislike themselves. Some of these trainers say that they do it for the kids’ sake; they believe it is good for all kids to be pushed.  Such trainers may have good intentions but if they do not bother to learn how to help all the different persons in their team, I do not think it is good enough.  (The above example is also applicable for many bosses.)

Another example is a story I heard recently, about an animal shelter opening in the outskirts of Madrid.  A group of young people wanted to take care of some of the many abandoned animals.  They had lots of good intentions, but not the will to achieve the necessary knowledge, and several animals died under their care – or rather their lack of appropriate care.

It may sound hard, but to me, it is important to not just mean well, but to do well. And that will require more than just a good intention.

Let me conclude with a statement I use when I talk to school classes about writing and possibly choosing that as a career:

“Follow your heart, but take your brain with you.”