myParaphernalia

interior design ala Ås

2012-03-04T10:50:00.000+01:00

I think people should collect things

from their path through life.

And then find a way to get those things

live together.

I like to shop from flea markets & charity shops.

( and of coourse ikea!)

I like to inherit, or be given furniture

and objects

that have lived for a while

without me...

( I know I've said that before... but it's simply the truth)

He is the happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home

J.W. von Goethe

I'll sit in my library today, in front of the fireplace

going through books, love,

and lost dreams

make the best of your Sunday my friend

say yes

2012-03-02T08:36:00.000+01:00

Under the early sun

the morning dew covers the forest.

The snow is melting.

Spring? Are you on your way?

Please. Say yes

nothing digital about this photgraph. only her greatness the nature.

photo © myParaphernalia

very quiet in here...

2012-02-29T09:32:00.002+01:00

it has been....

but things are happening ouside.

quiet things, lovely things, fun things, boring things,

and things in general

you know

life

I have been working on my art

( a friend of mine during a conversation asked me

to stop calling my art, "art" &

I have a lot of respect for this friend

so I have stopped calling my art, "art")

I have been working on my art

and some writing

( I will come back to both of those soon...)

I have made some plans,

in my head, never lists for this person,

and I have been trying to fill up the disappeared photos

on my blog...

only about 200 posts left

( that's the boring things, in case you didn't get it )

I have also been a bit thrifting

and that's always fun

I found Hamlet;

not him personally, he is to be or not to be, in Denmark, him ; )

just the book

- with the previous owner's tiny cute handwritten notes inside -

something I find extremely exciting!

old frammes, just used really,

a retro dress!

I have no idea if I'm ever going to wear it

but in any case I 'll take off those inflatable sleeves

( I can fly on my own, thank you...)

and

an amazing edition of Alice in Wonderland

illustrated magically by Zdenko Basic.

I think I am the first one opening this book;

it looks completely new

and I got so happy about finding it

that I didn't see it was in English before I was home

( well, I'll just have to translate it to my kids while reading!)

in the end I have a confession to make...

I fell in Love

it was Love at first sight and I just had to live this Love

so I bought that gorgeous ring

and now it's mine for ever and ever and ever...

from The Little Box

oh! I almost forgot!

the snow is melting & a

new visitor has been observed from the kitchen window

just lovely!

see you all soon

monogram

2012-02-24T19:03:00.002+01:00

joining this weekend's drawing challenge
hosted by Patrice
themed Monogram.

it came natural to draw the monogram of my greek name

or actually my greek nick-name
Ντέμη
since i was a kid

meaning of letter N
represents clever imagination

the ability to get to the heart of the matter

love for the written word

liking to touch everything

...smelling the roses takes on a whole new meaning... (ouch!)

need time to themselves

good listeners, they seem to understand all that is told them

always a student, gathering information

ok. lets pretend that's me

but since this is my first effort to draw a monogram

please

be aware of the thorns...

smile like you mean it

2012-02-22T11:23:00.000+01:00

... but you don't always have to smile.

you can choose not to smile like you mean it.

and sometimes you can smile like this

like you mean it;

and nobody else knows what you really mean...

photo via wikipedia

ps.
some unexpected problems on my blog turned everything black...
I am also having problems to leave comments
and I have to upload photos for almost 400 posts...
wish me luck!

what the caterpillar calls the end of the world,

2012-02-18T09:37:00.004+01:00

the master calls a butterfly

joining this weekend's drawing challenge

at tiny woolf

enjoy!

quote by Richard Bach

metamorphosis

2012-02-15T08:40:00.000+01:00

my Big Brother is going through

an amazing instagram, very creative period.

he liked my snow & sky

and turned it to sea & sky...

the tranquility of the snow, the unstoppable power of the sea

"we don't see things as they are

we see things as we are"

anais nin

at that given moment

you can find more gorgeous photographs of his here

see you again during the weekend
for the Butterfly drawing theme
that Little Woolf decided for us...

ego-link

2012-02-13T09:27:00.002+01:00

my short story

is now published on the following link

http://www.derekhaines.ch/vandal/2012/02/short-story-the-books-by-demie/

please take a look &

say freely what you mean.

I want to thank Derek Heines

who is welcoming short stories on his site;

even mine ; )

it feels a bit like this. only a bit though....

don't mourn your luck that's failing now

2012-02-12T13:49:00.003+01:00

click to listen in greek

God Abandons Antony

At midnight, when suddenly you hear

an invisible procession going by

with exquisite music, voices,

don't mourn your luck that's failing now,

work gone wrong, your plans

all proving deceptive - don't mourn them uselessly:

as one long prepared, and full of courage,

say goodbye to her, to Alexandria who is leaving.

Above all, don't fool yourself, don't say

it was a dream, your ears deceived you:

don't degrade yourself with empty hopes like these.

As one long prepared, and full of courage,

as is right for you who were given this kind of city,

go firmly to the window

and listen with deep emotion,

but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward;

listen - your final pleasure - to the voices,

to the exquisite music of that strange procession,

and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.

Constantine P. Cavafy

umbrellas, Rihanna, people

2012-02-10T10:08:00.001+01:00

the word Umbrella is the key word

for this weekend's drawing challenge

hosted by Renilde

(by the way it always reminds me of Rihanna's song

perhaps because she used the famous

"ella ella ay ay ay

under my umbrella"

ella meaning come in greek...)

can the unbrella one chooses

defines what kind of person they are?

i don't know,

i don't even have an umbrella.

so what does that say about me

then...

if you click on the drawing, it becomes big!

enjoy your weekend folks

sorry i'm always early on these challenges

but

the weekend is for those little people

living in my house ; )

i promise to visit all participants though!

dear deer

2012-02-08T08:52:00.002+01:00

photographs taken from my kitchen window.

i think he is curious about

what the birds are having for launch...

and maybe. just maybe a bit curious about me

come again. my dear deer

art nouveau award & some kind of interview

2012-02-06T08:47:00.001+01:00

sometime ago i got a blogaward from Eleni of art nouveau

i dont think for a moment that my blog is gorgeous

- but its cetrainly nice that somebody out there thinks that : )

i think my blog is weird, melancholyc at times,

very comfused & comfusing and more versatile than it should.

just like me i suppose

I'd have to share 11 random things about myself with you...

is it ok if i just share only 7?

you can read them up there at the right under the very suitable title

7 things about me

and

i'd have to answer

some questions from Eleni.

hm... lets see how this goes...

1.How superstitious are you?

i'm very superstitious!

i never go under a ladder, not wanting to upset the small ghosts living there;

i always touch my left ear when i see a black cat,

i don't like spilled salt ( bad bad thing! )

and i knock on wood on several occasions

2.If you could travel to anywhere in the world, where would it be?

although i do travel all the time

in my head

(try it. its really cheaper and you get to do whatever you want)

if i'd have to choose a destination in "random"

it would be Scotland <3

3.If you had one word to describe yourself, what would it be?

impossible

- not to find one word to describe me;

that one word is: impossible

4.Name two of your favourite songs!

wild thing, the troggs

personal Jesus, depeche mode

5.What is the best thing that has ever happened to you?

that i live in a dream within a dream, within a dream...

6.What is the most embarrassing moment of your life?

i stumble all the time, sometimes on nymphs!

i don't have any orientation

i don't have right punctuation nor right spelling in my writing

i can three languages pretty bad, all of them

and i open my mouth more often than i probably should...

my embarrassing moments, are countless

7.What is the one food that you would never give up?

chocolate

8.What's your favourite horror movie?

i don't watch horror movies

they disturb my sleep

( does the Others with Nicole Kidman counts as a horror movie?

i liked this one! )

9.What is your one achievement that makes you the most proud?

that i still have this ancient voice inside me talking to me,

(although i thought i had lost it for a while)

10.Where do you see yourself in the next five years?

my eyesight is a bit bad lately

i have ordered though some ophthalmologist hours...

11.Why did you start blogging?

what do you mean?

instead of sending this award to 11 other bloggers

i am sending YOU to my blog list.

it's nice there ; )

see you soon

the books

2012-02-03T07:57:00.000+01:00

a short story by demie

(pleace notice this is not a personal story! only fiction)

the little girl lived with her mother in a small apartment in the city.

an apartment full of all sorts of things. mom liked old stuff.

things that had lived for a while without her.

things she could exchange with other things,

give them away or change their place in the apartment.

she did that all the time. with everything. except her books.

they were lined up, alphabetically, on the bookcase in the living room.

this bookcase was so big that filled the whole wall.

from floor to ceiling, and from one side to the other.

a wall made of books.

and the books were never to be given away, thrown away,

sold or even lent to anybody. it was forbidden.

the girl was not so interested in them yet.

something that disappointed her mother very much.

but that time, was time for the girl to play.

she liked to jump on one leg. a very difficult thing to do,

and she liked to play with Lego. she was almost obsessed with Lego.

they had so many colors and you could have so much fun with them.

also, they could make you forget everything else around you.

life was good.

sometimes they would sit in the car, and travel to visit friends.

their friends, lived far away, so they didnt meet them so often.

she liked it when they did that. visiting friends and their children.

moms older sister, who was quite strict but not as strict as most people thought.

also, her boys and their friends. it was really special.

she was the only girl and always got to do as she wanted.

everyone was kind to her and whether there were whispers in the dark,

things adults were whispering to each other when they thought all children were asleep,

it was fun there...

other times they would sit in the car,

and they would drive around in other cities, and other places.

mom said this was a game they were playing together.

they drove away from the bad people. mom drove very fast.

what an adventure that was. every time!

the bad people never got hold of them and the game quickly became a habit,

as the years went by.

life was good.

except when moms twin sister came to visit. totally unexpected and certainly uninvited.
there were times her mom had to go. she didn't know where mom was going.

nor for how long.

when moms twin sister was present, things were dark and dreary.

unsafe.

she was often mean to the girl. not always directly mean but mean.

she hit her only once. but very hard.

the girl was lying on the floor and moms twin sister just kicked and kicked,

until the girls head, who knocked and knocked against the wall,

opened as a watermelon does,

when you cut it with a large sharp knife in the middle of summer and the seeds fall out,

black and small as ants. ants didnt come out of her head,

just lots of blood and fortunately came mom who took her to the doctor.

mom told the doctor that the girl hit herself while she was playing hide and seek,

and the girl didnt care about it,

she just nodded to the doctor who looked at her in a strange way,

as he sewed the wound.

she was just glad mom was back.

the worst with the twin sister was not that. she was mean in many ways.

worst ways.

she could criticize violently;

she would tell that mom was gone because she couldnt stand her own daughter;

she would throw things around the room, smashing glass and sleep for endless hours.

the girl was afraid of her.

she always cleaned after her because she didnt want her mom to come home to this mess. and she was hungry. for days there wouldnt be any food in the house.

at first, she didnt know what to do. although eventually, she learned to be prepared.

she hid food when mom was home. under the mattress or deep deep in drawers.

dry food. she was not stupid.

whether she was called stupid, several times by moms twin sister .

when mom was home, there was food on the table every day.

and they played together.

they prepared weird funny things like soy meals, and homemade chips.

she was not fond of soy meals but very fond of homemade chips,

and she loved doing things with her mom.

mom was so playful, she smiled like an angel, she was so pretty and sweet.

she said to her often, she loved her. she read to her every evening.

not stuff other people read to their children.

not Alice in Wonderland nor princess's fairy tales.

she read about Shakespeare and Leonardo Da Vinci,

she read poetry by poets with long difficult names.

she didnt get so much of it, but it was nice to hear moms voice reading ...

one day, while moms twin sister was at home, came a man.

the girl was sent to her room. the man asked moms twin sister many questions.

the one after the other.

they talked quietly. it was impossible to understand exactly what was going on.

when the man left, moms twin sister went mad. very mad.

she said the girl was a coward. she hid in her room and didnt come out to defend her.

no wonder her mother didnt want her. she cried and screamed like crazy.

the girl dared to shout back. youre not my mother! you cant say such things to me!

you are not allowed!

and then she saw the hand of moms twin sister, rising up high over her face.

she begun to cry too. she hadnt forgotten the last time,

when her head had opened up like a watermelon.

please, she said, dont beat me. please ...

and then, moms twin sister, took her hand slowly down, looked at her with disgust,

and spat on her. you are worthless! it was all she said before she left the room.

the girl sat hidden between the walls. right there on the corner. between the walls.

there she sat. alone. hoping no one would be told something like this, ever.

cause it was more painful than an open head crowded with ants.

mom died a morning in april.

the girl woke up late. it had happened before,

but this time she realized something was wrong. the apartment was so quiet.

she went into the living room where mom would often sleep in front of the telly.

it was still on.

mom slept on the sofa. but she did not sleep. she was dead.

the girl simply knew. in a few days she would be twelve years old.

she knocked on the door of the neighbor lady, who was friends with mom; sometimes.

and there she stood by the open door without being able to say a word.

the lady had to ask. is everything ok with your mother?

yes. she is all right now. she is dead.

suddenly, the apartment was full of people.

the doctor came. the neighbors came. aunt came. her cousins came.

everybody looked like they were one hundred years old. at least.

and then,

there was no one there. the apartment was quiet again. she was forgotten.

her mother laid still on the couch. she looked peaceful. absent.

the girl was to be twelve years old in a few days.

she knew now, moms twin sister would never come back. just like mom.

after an eternity, she turned her gaze from the beautiful corpse

and set it on the bookcase at the other side of the room.

she went slowly closer to the books, her moms books,

and embraced them with her small hands.

for the first time she felt, that feeling, of being at a place where she was safe.

happy birthday Sarapirat !

2012-02-02T09:43:00.000+01:00

gratulerer med dagen

χρόνια πολλά

happy birthday Sarapirat!

beautiful packages

2012-01-31T19:40:00.000+01:00

sometimes on my way to the mailbox

except of course from finding nymphs,

i do make it all the way

sometimes

and sometimes

i do find beautiful packages in there.

they are so beautiful

that when i `m back home i have to look at them for a while

before i open them,

for the sake of admiration.

its almost like when you receive an e-mail;

you hear the little sound

and you know

its from somebody you like and likes you back

and you wait a bit before you read
the beautiful writing.

you are having a cigarette -ops!

or putting some wood in the stove first

( surelly i`m not the only one who does that!)

and once

i even found a package with my book in it

send by MJ who wanted me to sign it for her.

what a feeling! to be appreciated by a complete stranger

my little coffee table book

is still available on blurb

just click on the blurb link, there on the left ; )

if only to take a look at the preview

at the mid-time enjoy beautiful packages

with beautiful things inside

made by beautiful people

from Maria & her Little Box

from Kris & her La petite boutique de perles

from Annette & her chasinglightningbugs

see you all again soon

another roadside attraction

2012-01-27T09:56:00.001+01:00

sorry i am too early (again!) but this time is not my fault.

something extraordinary happened and i can`t wait to tell you about it

on my morning walk to the mailbox,

which is about 200 m from our house,

please don`t ask me why, its a long story;

i was thinking how silly it was to choose such a theme

since i didn`t know what to draw to fit it.

and while i was walking, with the only roadside attraction

looking like the photo above,

i looked down

very weird that, `cause i almost never look down.

that `s why i stumble more often than people usually do...

well, i looked down for once and thats what i saw

(i would surely miss it if i wasn`t dreamy enough...)

a nymph! fragile. close to invisible. a nymph lying on the snow!

that`s definitely Another Roadside Attraction!

i took her instinctively in my hand. she was frozen poor thing.

was she dead? i thought. do nymphs actually ever die?

i forgot all about the mail and hurried home.

we sat next to the wood stove

until she became warm, although still quite airy.

she has been flying around the house all morning.

well she doesn`t really fly

i even dared to ask her

"do you see any wings?" she said

with her ancient voice

" i`m not an angel, nor a fairy you fool!

i`m a nymph!"

so no. she doesn`t fly. she just moves smoothly

we have decided to spend the winter together

she `s a bit rude this one. i like her.

we gonna have so much fun!

what? you don`t believe me?

WHAT? you don`t believe in nymphs and fairies and such?

what kind of person are you anyway?

if you don`t believe

then you certainly never going to meet a nymph in your life.

especially not on a cold winter morning in Norway

and that`s a pity

please visit my friends and their

Another Roadside Attraction

during this weekend

Don

this post is dedicated to my friend Τιμόθεος who somehow inspired it

& of course to Tom Robbins

Theo Angelopoulos (27.04.1935 – 24.01.2012)

2012-01-25T09:33:00.002+01:00

when late in the evening yesterday i read about the death of the great greek director

Theodoros Angelopoulos

all that came to my mind was

"come on God! give us a break!"

quite an ironic thought since later on i found out Angelopoulos

got hit by a motorcycle.

Angelopoulos is considered by film critics as one of the world's greatest directors.

His films have been awarded worldwide.

i`ll just mention a few films, from his 40 year long career

-The Travelling Players (O Thiassos) (1975)

International Film Critics Award (FIPRESCI), Cannes.

Best film of the Year, British Film Institute

FIPRESCI: One of the Top Films in the History of Cinema.

-Voyage to Cythera (Taxidi sta Kythira-1983)

Best Screenplay and International Film Critics Award (FIPRESCI) Best Film Awards, Cannes

-Landscape in the Mist (Topio stin Omichli-1989)

Felix (Best European Film of the Year) Award

-Ulysses' Gaze (To Vlemma tou Odyssea-1995)

Grand Jury Prize and International Critics' Prize, Cannes

Felix of the Critics Film of the Year

-Eternity and a Day (Mia aioniothta kai mia mera-1998)

Palme d`Or,Cannes

watching once, one of his very rare interviews

i remember him telling, he was a child of war.

and the day, him, at the age of seven,

holding his mother`s hand

was looking among hundrends of dead bodies for the body of his father

formed him as a person and as an artist...

i will leave you today with the poetic scenes of his last film

The Weeping Meadow (To Livadi pou dakryzi-2004)

& the music of his long time collaborator, greek composer Eleni Karaindrou.

καλό ταξίδι

and, if the soul is about to know itself,

it must gaze into the soul

Plato

please notice that on this post i have used information from wikipedia

number 47

2012-01-23T08:54:00.004+01:00

so its me.number 47

the 47th host of the weekend drawing challenge

dear Ariane has started with.

its not that fun to be number 47!

it seems all themes are already taken

or is just me having some lack of imagination...

but while i was finally getting my books on their right place,

the bookcase

( we have lived in this house, for about a year, so things move

slowly around here... just so you know)

anyway;

there i found the theme of this weekend`s challenge!

you can participate by leaving a comment under this post

before Wednesday please

so i`ll have time to announce who is going to join.
( a correction : feel free to sign in after that day too... no problem!)

it is a drawing challenge

but you can contribute with a photo or more or some words

or anything for that matter...

we are very open to new ideas and accept people as they are.

you don`t have to be an artist or a photographer

just a bit creative. that would do.

the theme i have the honour to invite you to, is:

Another Roadside Attraction

actually the title of a Tom Robbins book.

the photo above has nothing to do with it.

i just needed one for the post ; )

we are bundled, my friend

2012-01-20T08:35:00.001+01:00

i met you on the street

you were nothing special. they said

just a bastard

i gave you a home

you walked next to me

you waited for me outside the bank

and sat by my feet at the coffee shop

never on a leash

just as real friends should be

you licked my forhead when i had fever

and my tears when heartbroken

we run and played together

on the old streets

and when i left

we both knew it was forever.

when you left

you visited my dreams

for me to know.

and now i `m waiting

i `m waiting for your next visit my friend
we are bundled,

we had the same mentality

you and i; wild and free

and therefore

faithful to the ones that made us happy

joining Rachel and other lovely ladies on bundle theme this weekend

today you can also read my Ocean Sea review on reading is fashionable

the sky. on fire

2012-01-17T20:19:00.001+01:00

i sat by my kitchen window drinking my coffee

one early morning last week.

i looked outside and saw the sky.on fire.

i run out and took a picture

with my (very) old mobile phone.

there is absolutely nothing digital about this photograph

nature is the greatest artist of all

sometimes, it only takes,

to turn your head to the right direction

teatime

2012-01-13T18:49:00.001+01:00

when i was gowing up in Greece, tea was something one would drink when sick.

not even my few months in London as a ninenteenyearold changed that.

i learned to love my cup of tea here in Norway ( the coffee lovers land!)

and i enjoy it in the evenings

tasting green tea &mint or white tea & pomegranate.

my last discovery and favorite at the moment is

green tea with rhubarb & sea buckthorn...

and its certainly true what Emerson says:

there is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a cup of tea

joining Ariane for this weekend`s drawing

this is how the game is played

2012-01-12T09:41:00.001+01:00

a poem by Arleen Parè

i am the Black Queen. no one knows more than i know.

i know why babies cry and spirits speak and human teeth

tear to the bone. i know how stars will disappear

and where the speckled starlings sleep. i know your hands.

i know how bishops plot aslant. i know the pale

green length of lunar moths inside their pale cocoons.

i do not fear the rook. i know the name of every angel,

their numbered dances on the heards of silvered pins.

i know the edge of grief and the underside of knives.

i know the tedium if knights, why oceans salt like tears.

i know who made this board with squares

like castle tiles. i know the king will leave.

i move all ways. i made you strong

when strength against was what you willed.

i know your minutes. i know your breath as it ticks by.

this is a game. i know who keeps the time.

from Object

poems edited by Patrick Lane

sent to me by my friend

artist Carole Reid

who made the wonderful cover

thank you Carole

a precious Object indeed

the lake. frozen

2012-01-09T09:07:00.001+01:00

coming back to blogging in a turtle`s rhythm

slowly

sharing with you -again

my favorite lake. frozen this time.

on a sunny cold day.

a wonderful excuse for a walk

& some picture taking

see you soon

the snow & some rules

2012-01-03T10:50:00.000+01:00

exactly at 12 o`clock on saturday came lucky number 12... and with it came the snow.

small flakes of wonderful norwegian

transparent snow.

no resolutions this year

no promises

only a few rules

that will surely be forgoten in the course of the year

still on a break though

wishes & a break

2011-12-17T11:43:00.000+01:00

paraphernalia and its owner need a blog break. during the holidays and maybe a bit more...

until then i am wishing you a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful creative healthy 2012

and

"For what it's worth: it's never too late... to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

quote from the curious case of benjamin button

god jul

καλά χριστούγεννα Ελλάδα. σ αγαπω