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Both Worlds

A few weeks ago I was intrigued by a posting of someone at h2g2.
And because of that I read his/her personal entry.

In a clourful description I could read some activities, passions and postings of this I-am-here-to-enjoy- myself-fantasy-person.
And also that reading was interesting for me; the joy, humor, fantasy, activities, contacts, creativity and devotion to help others.

And just becáuse of that, a question came up in my mind; "who is this colourful angle down at our own blue planet?"

After two days I received a posting and it appeared to be from someone outside Western Europe.

This was the first time in my life I had a personal contact by the internet with someone so far away.
A very special experience for me, just becáuse of the facts she descibed from her daily life.
It moved me, because then I have the feeling that my picture of someone and contact with someone is more real than before.

Was the contact before nót real?
Sure it was. Also in fantasynames, humor, activities at h2g2 someone shows aspects of his/her own personality.

But it feels different for mé, since I know more facts about his/her daily life, in that country, far away.
Somewhere in that country, there is someone, in whom's feelings I have a small temporary place.
An exiting experience, almost as if I am thére myself.


I enjoy the fantasy stories at h2g2, although SF is not a real love for me.
But when I'm getting intrigued by someone, I feel the urge and need to know more about his/her daily life. Mainly because I expect to see more aspects of that person and maybe also the more problematic aspects.

And so it happened.
I could read experiences of that person, that would probably never have been written down at h2g2 and it was very "warm" to be able to share that.


For me there is an interaction between the-digital-h2g2-fantasy- world and our fysical and I wouldn't like to live without any of these two hére at h2g2.

Because of that interaction I can enjoy h2g2 as a friendly fantasyplace and not as a hiding place.




(Here some postings I received, related to the Spanish "Duende" = irrational, extreme emotional experience, related to Flamenco and other typical Spanish cultural topics).




"I know - I've only experienced what I'd describe as duende twice - something profoundly and intensely emotional...

The first time was long before I got interested in Flamenco - it was at a classical concert... and there was a piece (I've forgotten wat it was) that made me feel as if something was reaching inside my chest and trying to rip my heart out. I looked around to see if anyone else was feeling it, but they all looked perfectly calm and like typical Svenssons (very average, even statistically average, Swedes)

It started with a shiver down my spine, and then going up again, and when it hit the base of my skull my neck hair went 'ping' and I got goose bumps all over my body. The pain in my heart came next, and then trembling all over - I had to grab hold of my seat to stop myself from shaking - and I had to clench my teeth together to stop the scream that was working its way up through my throat

- but I couldn't stop the tears... I wasn't sobbing, but the tears were flooding freely, and there was nothing I could do to stop them - not even wipe them away, since that would have meant that I'd have to let go of my seat...

It was as if the music was speaking to all the dark and negative feelings I had ever experienced and buried deep inside of me, enticing them to pop up to the surface - feelings hard enough to cope with one by one, but all at once... I felt as if I was torn apart inside, an earthquake, a vulcano eruption, a thunderstorm

When the music stopped, the pain stopped too, mercifully - I grew limp and then started searching my handbag for paper handkerchiefs - when I heard a small voice next to me saying 'do you have one for me too?' I looked at my friend next to me - and oh how I loved her at that moment for having shared the sensational emotion - she looked just as devastated as I was feeling - face wet with tears, red-rimmed eyes, pale face...

And afterwards I felt all empty inside, but a nice kind of empty, everything rinsed out.
..like a khatarsis for the soul...



The second time was very different:

At the end of each tearm we give a performance, where all the flamenco dance class participants can take part (but not all of them will, because they lack the will, or the guts, or both)

I was to be one of four dancers performing a sort of slow siguiriya (not sure about the spelling - slow because it should have been faster - very fast dance). We had been rehearsing with music on tape, but for the end-of-term performance we had a Spanish guitarist (friend of our teacher) who also sings pretty well, although he's not really a singer

Live music makes so much difference - we had just started dancing when I suddenly felt a beam (or maybe wave?) of light, warmth, energy, vitality flowing into me and lifting me so high up that I experienced the biggest ego-trip ever in my life

Everything melted together inside of me - the beam, the music, the singing, the clapping, the encouraging shouts - and the result was ecstasy - and loosing contact with reality - I forgot the spotlights, I forgot the audience - it was just me, me, me! I felt strong, I felt invincible, beautiful, strong and proud! And then - nothing

I didn't reconnect with reality until the end of the dance, when we were supposed to dance off the stage - but instead of dancing sideways, I was dancing towards the back - and almost bumped into the guitarist - not until then did I realize what I was doing!

I was quite out of breath and sweating heavily - and I realized I must have danced as h*ll - but the question was: what on earth had I been dancing? Had I even been dancing the same dance as the other three girls? Or had I messed it up? Had I made a complete and utter fool of myself? I had no idea - I had had a complete black-out

But then some of the other students said 'Wow - you were GOOD!' and a complete stranger walked up to me - to me! - and shook my hand and told me how fantastic I had been, how absolutely stunning...

...and I blushed furiously and muttered something and then excused myself, saying I had to get changed...

To this day I'm not sure what happened, or what I did - it was as if something took over my body - one of the strangest things I've ever experienced."

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Latest reply: Aug 7, 2003

Sabicas, the flamenco guitarplayer

I'd like to write here about an extraordinary flamenco guitarplayer, named SABICAS.

He was born in 1912 at Pamplona of the Gypsy family of Castellon Campos. As a child he played the guitar on his own, without a lesson,
without advice and without a teacher.

Sabicas played first in public at the age of seven and when he was ten, he gave a concert in Madrid.
In 1934, after his recital in the Plaza de Toros at Sevilla, he was carried in triumph.
In 1950 he settled in New York and from 1967 he frequently returned to Spain and gave many concerts.

Before Sabicas, there seemed many things impossible to do on guitar, but his great technique shows otherwise.

But Sabicas was not only a guitarist, but also a composer - a rare thing for a Gypsy.
He could neither read nor write music. One day he said, that the notes on a stave looked like "little birds on electric wires", but because of his mastery of the guitar and very strong memory, he was capable of playing his compositions, note for note, over and over again, while it is extremely complex.

A flamenco specialist wrote about him; "He does not give us the sensation that he is playing, but that the music flows out by itself" and thís is the trigger for my love for his music.

And a flemgo guitarist said about him; "The entire output of Sabicas is a music of plenitude, happy music, the reflection of this little man who was at peace with himself and with the world".

And finally, what said Sabicas about himself?
"You know, I had no teacher. I had a brother who wanted to learn, but I did not know how to show him a variation! I cannot teach, probably because no one ever taught me. I do not know music. I do not know what it begins with. But you see, since I took up a guitar, people say it is a revolution. So after all, I am happy, because others have written down my music and study it and so it will remain when I'm gone". (He died in 1990)


And this swarming of birds that sprang from the fingers of this ordinary little man from Pamplona, sing to me authentic Gypsy songs
that can light a fire of passionate living.

Maybe you can enjoy his music aswell and that's one reason why I write here about him. The other reason is, that I love to share what I love (or hate).

The link to my posting at H2G2 is F110879?thread=238840

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Latest reply: Aug 7, 2003

January first 2003

A few weeks ago, I saw a few minutes of a movie at BBC-one.

Beautiful pictures and an even móre beautiful/meaningful text; "That you will live oút the life within you", someone said.
It appeared to be the end of the movie.

That is my dearest wish for áll of us; that we will live óut the lifes within us.

Or - in other words - that we will more and more become the persons who we really are.



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Latest reply: Aug 7, 2003

Ice skating december 2002

In this week in december 2002 Holland has slowly become a froozen country.

As soon as possible I took my car and went to the North.

Holland is a very small country, but even here there are structural differences in the weather and so in our North it freezes a bit harder than elsewhere.
We cannot skate that often on natural ice. Not more than a few days in a winter. Sometimes just óne day in a whole winter.

When it freezes I can feel the exitement in myself.
I can't wait to experience it; to skate (mostly on my own) longer distances in a half dark landscape, which is extremely silent and wide open.
Only the Geeze from Siberia tell me stories of their birthplaces while they fly over.
The world has become a frozen poëtry, which is serene, calm and friendly and joyfull (when the sun participates) and when the weather makes me suffer, I enjoy that challenge.

You can skate from village to village and arrive on froozen water in communities that show you hospitality. Carpets are on the streets so you can visit a baker and a pub for a warm drink.(but néver drink any alcohol while you still have plans to skate, for you won't make it further than two or three miles; it sucks all your energy).

This time my skating wasn't such a succes.
But I'm glad "I was there".
A fairy tale like landscape where humans with skates "get wings" and remember the same magic from their own childhood.

It's like fire on ice.
But this passion of mine will néver melt down.




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Latest reply: Aug 7, 2003

Cyber - love

After having written a story at an internet site (not this one), I got a lot of response, especially by women.

I was very surprised and after a few days we sent a lot of e-mails, every day.

This way I accidently discovered, that some people have their P.C. on all day ánd even at night. Because when someone stepped out of bed at 4 o'clock in the morning, even thén e-mail was sent to me (I could read the time, written above it) with almost nó message at all.

The - general - message seems to be; "If I keep mailing you, than you will be doing the same to me".
And it wórks that way (to me).

I must admit to myself, that it felt in some way as a warm cocoon and it became addictive for me.
Falling in love with my own imaginations/emotional fantasies and they easily get confirmed.

After a week, I ended most of the e-mail-contacts and I even had to accustom to the real, daily, fysical world, which - in the end - I still always prefer.
No matter what adventure I enjoy; real daily life remains my compass ánd "final destination".

It was a discovering experience, but also confusing and oppressing:
cyber-emotions in a kind of digital brothel.

But still to me internet and real emotions are no fundamental enemy.
Because what am I doing right now?
Exactly; writing it in my digital journal at H2G2.

Finding the right balance seems to be the real art.
But "balance" is not the same as mediocrity.


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Latest reply: Aug 7, 2003


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