Glass Breaks

On Thursday, between the school performance and the Bodo "premiere" of Teskjkerringa, there was an approximate two hour break, after lunch, getting out of costume and makeup, and putting on my walkin' boots.
Seth, Sina, and I decided to explore the city a little bit. We walked East and happened upon the "Glasshuset", which is a street covered with glass, in between the main shopping street of the town. I got so excited, because one of my favorite things is glass, especially when it's used in architecture and in large quantities. The sun was shining through the glass roof, and the windows were sparkling. Being an impressionable person, I suddenly began to feel very happy, so I started to run.
My sister works at Macy's. I like lip gloss and perfume. These three things may not seem related. But, because I like lip gloss, my sister got me the Clinique lip gloss and perfume mix and match gift set. Because I like lip gloss and perfume, and because my sister knows me so well, I happened to have such a lip gloss/perfume tube in my pocket.
I started to run. And, inevitably, the vial jumped out of my pocket with a rebellious will and promptly let gravity take it's quickest and most direct course to the heavy tiles in the street.
Clink, crash, tinkling glass skated across the floor. The smell of perfume was immediately diffused into the air.

I thought to myself, "Argh! Right when I begin to be happy, something breaks!"
Then I said it out loud. Sina gave me a hug and Seth enjoyed adding to my embarrassment by taking pictures of all of it.

I picked up the glass and tossed it into the garbage bin.
Oh, well. Moving on.

We stopped into a candy/soda store, called "MIX", or "KIWI PRIS", or some other name I can't remember at the moment.
On the shelf I saw a soda I have never tried before. A Pepsi "Raw". Alright, I thought, it's in a glass bottle, it will be good for the environment.
Little did I know, being spoiled with the American screw-top glass bottles, and forgetting in Europe that most of the time, if it's a bottle with a metal cap, it's a pop-cap, not a screw-top.
Well, I discovered this after I bought it.
We walked outside the GlassHuset and I realized this crucial fact about bottle caps and the European ideas of how to store soda in ways only accessible to the people with the right tools handy. Being an improvisor of sorts, I decided, since I was very thirsty, the best thing would be to open the bottle like they do in the movies: on a fence or one someone's teeth. I saw a non-descript little black trash bin and thought this would work tolerably well. So, I put the cap on the edge and hit the bottle, simultaneously opening the bottle and observing it spewing forth it's bromidic brew.
Well, it actually worked relatively well. Especially since there was snow underneath the trash can. And last year, when I was in Paris, I had the same predicament, and opened a bottle of Coke with a key on the train platform. Which was really stupid, because that time it really did spew all over me. But, at least this time, I was prepared for a little spillage, so I managed to keep myself clean this time.

So, I have learned... a little, anyway. Maybe I didn't learn the actual helpful fact that I should probably carry a bottle opener if I want to buy bottles of soda... But, I survived to tell the tale.

Seth went into a book store, and Sina and I made our way to the post office to mail off some things. My large goose-down coat, I discovered, was rather unnecessary in the Spring months of Norway, and since it occupied a rather large space in my bag, along with my ski-socks, I shipped them back home, across the Ocean. The person at the post office was very patient with my stupidity for not knowing how to send the package properly, not having any packing tape, and not really having a return address... Other, less staunch postal workers may have gone "postal". Pardon the horrible pun, but she was helpful, and asked me to help her, and was very patient and understanding.

We found Seth again, and we went back to the theatre for the premiere.

On Friday, Elin, the costume lady took Seth, Sina and me to the lookout over Bodo. It is beautiful. I think I wrote about it in my last post. But, I think I forgot to mention we saw an Ocean Eagle, too. Elin told us when we first arrived in Narvik that we would see an Eagle while we were in Norway, and she was right. She showed us where she lives; a charming red wooden house from the 1920's with a sauna. Elin has lived in Bodo her whole life. It's amazing. Because you can kind of tell. In Narvik, she was slightly out of place, but in Bodo, she is like the princess of Bodo, to me. She is brusk like the wind, but lovely and kind, too. I really like her. Anyway, it was very nice of her to drive us up there on her break. It was very fun. We tromped around in the snow and had a good time.

But breaking all the glass and opening the glass bottles, and walking through the Glass Huset, it was just a little too similar in theme for me to ignore it in my blog.

If I had to label different materials for different towns in Norway, I would have to attach my impressions thus:

Oslo= Loam/sand
Narvik= Wood
Bodo = Glass

I'm not sure why, but I associate those types of material with those cities. Maybe because in Oslo, I walked around more, over the slippery snow, which was coated in sand and gravel, and when the snow melted, it mixed into a loamy texture that collected in little piles in the streets.
In Narvik, the first time I saw the set, which was entirely made of wood, made a great impression on me. Then, when the Vinter Festuka (Winter Festival) opened, my favorite street vendor sold hand-made carved wooden cups. And the entire Opera process in Narvik was one of "Knock on wood"/We hope this works, type thing. Just the organic process of trial and error, and growing the show from it's first seed.
In Bodo, there is the GlassHuset, obviously, but there also became apparent the fragile nature of the set and the egos of some of the people I work with. And I became aware of how vulnerable people can be, myself not excluded.
Bodo has helped me to realize how life, like glass, can be fragile, beautiful, penetrating, and often translucent. But also carries with it an invisible barrier, and a knowledge that, under the right conditions, it can shatter. And what can we do but pick up the pieces and move on?

Two other things I've realized today/recently/since being in Bodo.
1) Last night, Saturday, I spent at my friend Silja's. She was the assistant director for the show, and it was her birthday. I went to her house and she cooked dinner, I took my bottle of wine Elin and Tove bought me as a "thank you" in Narvik, for the premiere. We shared the food, wine, and our ideas. I was talking about how I moved very often as a kid, and I started talking about a book my dad had given me to read. It was "Who Moved My Cheese?"
"I think I have that book," said Silja.
"Really?"
"Yes, here it is!" She pulled out the book from her wooden inlaid bookshelf. I briefly scanned the pages.
"Ah, yes, I thought. The book about change."
The synopsis of the book is that things change, and you've got to go with the flow of change and not fight the fact that things do not remain the same. Things break, people leave, people arrive, and what can we do but just keep moving? If we get stuck in one place, we can become extinct; either physically, emotionally, soulfully, or mentally. We lose our life essence, which is to keep moving.
Silja and I also love to walk. Walking in itself is a revolution, a movement. Even if one only returns to one's own house, one has still returned a slightly different person. And we ourselves are changing all the time, the impressions we receive and the things we learn about others and about ourselves is always changing. Why should we hang on to one ideal when there are so many other possibilities?

2) Listening to indie music today (Sunday) on "grooveshark.com" has given me an insight into something which I have thought for quite some time, but have never really been able to articulate. It's more like a rhetorical question, but it is this;
"What is more childish? The wide-eyed wonder or beleiving you know everything?"
What got me to think this was listening to the lyrics of several artists/singers.
They kept saying they knew what the world was like. How hard it was, how mean it was, how the forecast is always rain, Blah, blah, blah. When, really, what is the world but a conglomeration of everything wonderful, awe-inspiring, frightening, horrific, beautiful, and simple?
It's when a person loses their sense of curiosity about life that they no longer grow, and begin to decay. I have been in this mindset for several months last year.I thought I had discovered everything I was ever going to discover and I was very sad. It was horrible. I felt like Alice in Alice in Wonderland when she lost all her "muchiness".
I guess that's part of what Pavel meant when he said that "You must remain vulnerable." Because, really, how childish actually is a child? I argue that the most "childish" person is someone who thinks they've acquired the equation to life. Without the curiosity, what are we but apathetic lumps of carbon waiting for the chopping block? Without the hope, the struggle, the challenge, and the effort, we can't enjoy the simple pleasures of life, or the beauty of the world around us. We become privileged and only see the negativity surrounding us. We focus on the blemishes, instead of revelling in the fact that the sky is blue, or that the sunset is pink.

Basically, "Keep it simple, stupid."

I find that being susceptible and hurt/injured/affected by imperfections and mistakes is sometimes what is the most helpful and powerful experience. And so, things break, we fix what we can, pick up the rest, and let go. Because if we grasp at the glass shards too hard, or too long, we only hurt ourselves. And things need to break. Because they will. Life is like that.

I sort of knew these things before, but I'm rediscovering their trueness. Needless to say, I am having a terrific time in Norway. It's one of the best times of my life I have ever had and I am trying to catch and see every moment for it's own worth.

Anyway, I am in Bodo right now, it is raining. I am sitting in the library listening to music and the rain patter on the glass roof. Tomorrow, Seth and I are travelling to Fredrikstad at 7:30am, so I must go pack now.

Peace,

Hannah