The Sus
It was dark, and I couldn't remember seeing more stars. It had been cloudy and wet all day in Oslo, but that night on the hill in Nittedal, the sky was clear and cold. Susie and I were speechless. We just stood there on the edge of the forest with our faces lifted to the stars in awe. The woods were speaking. The Norwegian language has a single word for the sound of the wind blowing through the trees: Sus. Elisabeth told us it was pronounced like 'susie,' with a loose 's' whispering off the end of the word. Later, we asked Live and Aurora to take us on a walk through the forest. The ground was springy-- like a living mattress of mosses and scrubby undergrowth. Their dog, Tia splashed through the mud, disappearing to hunt birds, and bounding back to find us again. It felt like December does at home, sunny and cold, maybe the way it will feel when I get back to New Jersey. Mostly we sat at home talking. The house was so cozy, and Elisabeth was such a kind, smooth host. It felt so natural for us to be there, but all of us realized that any amount of time could pass before we were all together again. By the time I make it back to Norway, there could be another undreamed of child living upstairs in the as-yet-un-built-cabin. Or Elisabeth and Sverre could be grandparents! I hope I wont have to wait 10 or 15 years to see them again, but it's impossible to know what will happen. In a way, being there put things into perspective. I mean, at my age, I'm exposed to people from two distinct points in life: people absorbed in the gaping potential yearning stage of our beginning, and people our parents' age living the lived-in life, looking back at us over their shoulders. Elisabeth is right in the thick of things-- working as an experienced actress, raising a child, building a house... It's so refreshing to see someone who has established her place in theater and in life. She took us to the Gustav Vigeland sculpture park in Oslo. It was filled with these big, playful, robust statues that seemed to be celebrating the wild joy of life. I've never seen anything like it. The park seemed to be full of bounding motion-- leaping bronze bodies just screaming and shouting! There was one little guy, about the hook's age-- who is full of child rage! A direct translation of the statue's name is The Angry Spike. Walking through the park made me want to dance... if only I could dance, or maybe sing... if only I could sing, or maybe fight. With Molly. I miss that. I could use a good physical battle right now. ooooo. Just you wait, Molly! I'm gonna GET you. But honestly, the scope Vigeland's vision could swallow you whole. And the sheer range of his human bodies-- at all ages, in all relationships-- was just astounding and completely unexpected.
the angry spike
matt and veronica
hair streaming in the wind
a baby as it sits in the womb
Our walk through the park was filled with Elisabeth's stories. It was so intimate and personal to be surrounded by these figures and to be led by my cousin. I found out that she's my third cousin once removed. It is an abstract title for an oddly close, difficult-to-define relationship. I only have memory of seeing Elisabeth for about a week and a half total. But, in reality, I've lived with her for more than a year of my life. I think she lived with my family at a formative point in all of our lives. I can't come close to explaining the connection, but I feel like Elisabeth brings out this beautiful, wondering part of me that I rarely acknowledge. It's like when my Dad said to Susie, "You know, we're all better people when you're around." Susie and Elisabeth have a certain something in common. They share this warm, open-heartedness that I could never maintain myself. It's really beautiful to see this soft, unrelenting honesty and hope that they have. Susie said that Sverre reminded her of my dad. I can see what she means-- it's probably his humor. I love how Sverre speaks. There's a kind of rumbling quality to it. Maybe it's his inner nature. Sverre Bjorn Solberg. His middle name means Bear. The last time we saw Hawkoon he couldn't speak English or Norwegian or any language, except his own brand of shrieking, joyful cries. This time, he was disconcerted by our conversation in English. Poor kid. I think it made him nervous to hear his family speaking gibberishenglish. As a result, he was pretty quiet for a two year old kid. I miss Live and Aurora already. I can't help thinking they would fit right in at Emerson.
the angry spike
matt and veronica
hair streaming in the wind
a baby as it sits in the womb
Our walk through the park was filled with Elisabeth's stories. It was so intimate and personal to be surrounded by these figures and to be led by my cousin. I found out that she's my third cousin once removed. It is an abstract title for an oddly close, difficult-to-define relationship. I only have memory of seeing Elisabeth for about a week and a half total. But, in reality, I've lived with her for more than a year of my life. I think she lived with my family at a formative point in all of our lives. I can't come close to explaining the connection, but I feel like Elisabeth brings out this beautiful, wondering part of me that I rarely acknowledge. It's like when my Dad said to Susie, "You know, we're all better people when you're around." Susie and Elisabeth have a certain something in common. They share this warm, open-heartedness that I could never maintain myself. It's really beautiful to see this soft, unrelenting honesty and hope that they have. Susie said that Sverre reminded her of my dad. I can see what she means-- it's probably his humor. I love how Sverre speaks. There's a kind of rumbling quality to it. Maybe it's his inner nature. Sverre Bjorn Solberg. His middle name means Bear. The last time we saw Hawkoon he couldn't speak English or Norwegian or any language, except his own brand of shrieking, joyful cries. This time, he was disconcerted by our conversation in English. Poor kid. I think it made him nervous to hear his family speaking gibberishenglish. As a result, he was pretty quiet for a two year old kid. I miss Live and Aurora already. I can't help thinking they would fit right in at Emerson.