Moving out of my old studio...

Good People!
Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I am currently in the process of moving my studio. I hope to continue my work in my new studio in a week or two. I will post a few pictures as the moving progress... in the meantime... Well, here is a another poem for you to read:

Ophelia

I

On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping
White Ophelia floats like a great lily ;
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…
- In the far-off woods you can hear them sound the mort.

For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia
Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river.
For more than a thousand years her sweet madness
Has murmured its ballad to the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts and unfolds in a wreath
Her great veils rising and falling with the waters ;
The shivering willows weep on her shoulder,
The rushes lean over her wide, dreaming brow.

The ruffled water-lilies are sighing around her ;
At times she rouses, in a slumbering alder,
Some nest from which escapes a small rustle of wings ;
- A mysterious anthem falls from the golden stars.

II

O pale Ophelia ! beautiful as snow !
Yes child, you died, carried off by a river !
- It was the winds descending from the great mountains of Norway
That spoke to you in low voices of better freedom.

It was a breath of wind, that, twisting your great hair,
Brought strange rumors to your dreaming mind ;
It was your heart listening to the song of Nature
In the groans of the tree and the sighs of the nights ;

It was the voice of mad seas, the great roar,
That shattered your child's heart, too human and too soft ;
It was a handsome pale knight, a poor madman
Who one April morning sate mute at your knees !

Heaven ! Love ! Freedom ! What a dream, oh poor crazed Girl !
You melted to him as snow does to a fire ;
Your great visions strangled your words
- And fearful Infinity terrified your blue eye !

III

- And the poet says that by starlight
You come seeking, in the night, the flowers that you picked
And that he has seen on the water, lying in her long veils
White Ophelia floating, like a great lily.

- Arthur Rimbaud

Sunday poem

The shadow came — a tall, thin, grey-haired figure,
   That looked as it had been a shade on earth;
Quick in its motions, with an air of vigour,
   But nought to mark its breeding or its birth;
Now it waxed little, then again grew bigger,
   With now an air of gloom, or savage mirth;
But as you gazed upon its features, they
Changed every instant — to what, none could say.

From "The Vision of Judgement"
- Lord Byron

Literature festival: Noveller på Notodden 2015

The literature festival «Noveller på Notodden – Herbjørnsruddagene 2015» is just around the corner.
Here is the poster/program for this year’s festival (in Norwegian only).

What is very exciting about this years program is the collaboration between Hans Herbjørnsrud and Vegard Tveitan (Ihsahn/Emperor). I am sure this meeting between music and literature will be something to remember….  

Detail

Still working...

Quote of the day

“To avoid criticism say nothing, do nothing, be nothing.”
― Aristotle

A desert of inspiration

One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams...
-Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

About the author...

Photo by Magnus Stivi (Source: Wikimedia Commons)

If you have been curious about the author Hans Herbjørnsud, the inspiration to which I have based the "Herbjørnsruds Universe Series", you can read more about the author here: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hans_Herbj%C3%B8rnsrud

You can also find more about his publications here (in Norwegian only):

http://www.gyldendal.no/Forfattere/Herbjoernsrud-Hans

His works have been translated into many different languages; English, German, French, Russian etc. Be sure to read him!