THEIR WORDS ARE HAUNTING

This year Bokkalaset seems to be going high tech. Well not really but one thing is for sure , podcast will be certainly be an added feature. Pod casting is hot right now. Larson Österberg and his Slow City will be live and on board interviewing writers and then another duo team of Hannele Mikaela Taivassalo and Viktor Granö will be at the Kulturhuset Karelia Kulttuuritalo on Lördag (11.11) hositng a discussion Erotik i Litteraturen. That duo hosts their own pod. Such growth for Bokkalaset. Speaking of growth....

 This year I learned of a few new literary giants from this Nordic world. Whats with all the literature anyway. I guess Finns and FinlandSvenska alike have to have some way to spend all these cold days shut away. Strange that the subject of Taivassalo and Granö will be a book of work that should have gotten the writer on the best seller's list. Instead he got depressed and committed suicide. Can figure out if it was his confessions or the literature of ..anyway Lars Eric Krogis was his name and his book Penthesilea seems to be one that would have kept the homoerotic fire going in Finland and across the Nordic homes-scapes. His fate reminds me of another Nordic writer whose book gave him cause to whittle himself away.

Who was that? Only the guy who is credited with writing the first Finnish novel : Aleksis Kivi. Whats with all the suicide? Recently I visited the graveside of a Finnish poet who also died when the reception of his writing were not quite “well received”. Pentti Saarikoski was his name. Many a mourners in a far off place called New Valamo leave writing utensil at his gravesite. Nice gesture. Seriously. I keep a book of Gale Edith Sondergaards poetry in my bag. I keep close by like an religious symbol as I try to decipher the Swedish. One fellow poet likened her to Emily Dickenson. Even she (Söndergran) sometimes seems to take flight from a world that was not quite ready or right for her. Fortunately she was well receive and seemingly loved as a writer. Last year I met a host of living writers scholars and poets at Bokkalaset. Among theme Henrik Meinander, Peter Mickwitz , Olga Engfelt and my all time favorite (personality-wise) Annika Luther. Mrs. Luther told me her books had not been translated into English. It was ok, her caring spirit had. I felt its long after the festival was over. I guess that's why writers writer. Long before technology mankind had stories to tell. Those characters ..those words they tend to stick around long after the writer is who wrote them are gone. Pick up on your copy of the BOKKALASET NEWSPRINT  

Perhaps you can still find that copy of Västra Nyland. See the issue dated October 27, Friday 2017. Words and text by JKSTEWART

MAKING LEMONADE FROM LEMONS

There are circles of life. Not only did one circle find its way into my life Saturday because of it, I facilitated it with another. I know all to often why there is a saying, when life throws you lemons, make lemonade. Saturday I was all excited to began my project with nurturing a new talent. I scheduled a photo-shoot that was suddenly canceled. Photographers know of these occurrences nothing new. Still, it pisses us off greatly. But I had circled this terrain long ago. I learned then and put in to practice, that while one has the creative juices flowing one can use them despite cancellations . Hence I made lemonade from this debacle . I gathered my wounded pride and having learned of Giuseppe Verdi: Requiem at Ekenäs kyrka, I decided to walk over to Marina Motel in Ekenäs. I often keep my ear to the ground listening for stories that I might explore. Maria Mellerr had invited me to the event and I was indeed curious. 

A week ago I had loaned (to my American friends we check stuff out of the libraries but here in Finland its a “loan”. Therefore I loaned from the local library a CD). The CD entitled WE WANT THE LIGHT deals with the German composer Wilhelm Richard Wagner and his contributions toward GERMAN NATIONALISM. Cloaked within this two CD set is all kinds of educations on Judaism and the impact Wagner's opera and his writings either echoed or facilitated the anti-Semitics to come. I was fascinated with this compilation. Therefore when I learned of this Requiem and its significance, I wandered what if anything it had to do with to Lutherans. I decided to go to Motel Marina where I might meet some of the participants and simply engage. I was fortunate. I met Tenor Mika Nisula. What a chance encounter. Here was not only a participant but a man' who's name appeared in the program. His knowledge validated the old saying regarding lemon I had been tossed and based on my two hour conversation with him, I made lemonade. 

Here was a man who had first hand knowledge making a life interpreting lyrics. It furthered my pursuits that began with the WE WANT THE LIGHT. While the Requiem was composed by Giuseppi Verdi and had nothing to do with German Natioanalism, Italy certain has its own history with Jewish indifference. Nonetheless, my education is with music interpreting and the composing thereof which I know nothing about. I have obligated myself to plan to embark on a study of music someday. For now I drink from the well of off change experiences such as meeting Mika and making myself available while living here in Europa. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Want-Light-Nupen-Film-DVD/dp/B00066K2QK https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giuseppe_Verdi https://www.facebook.com/tenormikanisula/

JKSTEWART GREETS GUEST AT POETRY NIGHTS

September and the word "NIGGER" in Finland

Kevin Stewart·Sunday, September 17, 201710 Reads

To family and friends back in the United States. We the people in order to form a more perfect Union may have succeeded in as much as more is a living word. It denotes a condition that the world was in then and what Unions were like then. I can tell you with some degree of confidence that among the failures of the formation came the misdeeds of those who, while apart of the the Union of States, worked to make mankind divided along racial lines.

The fact that I came to a Nordic Country as wide-eyed and with no preconceived notions of racism did not prepare me for the spread of the propagation of my own racial inferiority. Finns, Swede, Norwegians and Danes all seem have adopted some of the offensive language that I grew up hearing in the United States. While the current climate of racial indifference that exists world wide seems to be directed toward Muslim and by extension Arabs, in one month alone I have had "nigger" whispered in my ear three time from different folk right here in Raseborg. Mind you, those who whispered this word were telling me "nigger jokes" and apologized. Yet they do not know how often I had to laugh off such offenses growing up. They do not know that the courage it takes to take the joke also undermines comfort. When I share these encounters with my wife, she seems as unprepared as any well-meaning liberal person. She would rather point out how stereo-types against Finns exist as well. Such unpreparedness makes me wonder, do Finns really know how bad we (African-Americans and others like Native American and Mexicans have had it?) How history inside the United States is not studies, it seems. Little peace do I gain from our feedback and discussions. A month ago Martti Korpijaakko sent me a link to a paper James Baldwin wrote about his time in Switzerland. I was excited to learn that a Finn actually knew of James Baldwin. Baldwin touched on some parallels to my own observations.

It is as if no-one feels my developing pain.

When last I addressed this issue, it was to confess that I had brought my racial identity card along with me. When Finns avoided eye contact I thought they were demonstrating the same Whites who would rather not look a Black man eye to eye. I was wrong. Finns avoid contact with each other as well. Ok so I began to question my own tendencies to read the terrain as I was taught in the United States. I loved coming to the realization. Knowing my country had done this to me. That we are guilty of thinking in terms of WHITE AND BLACK. I even began to count my own misdeeds in attributing WHITENESS to Finns.

I feel for my fellow Muslim brothers. They seem withdrawn and unable to voice their grieves. I try to remain receptive yet they are a silent about asylum matters. I understand as I post this fearing that Finns might mistake it as an attack. Yet I am also growing concern about how this climate may signal changes to come. Two days ago, I had to ask someone “did something happen; why are Finns casting glances as if I am being featured as a WANTED MAN”? Sure enough, something had happened in London’s underground. I had not even heard the news.

WE THE PEOPLE have done a good job creating a MORE perfect union. However our racial differences wherein we divide WHITES/BLACKS have aided in keeping the world stuck in the mire of ethic divide that long before the Pilgrims landed existed. I try to forget that I am Black not because I am ashamed. I just don't want to signal that the world owns me something. Yet all the while I am always reminded of my heritage in jokes, discrimination and prejudices. I embrace this shared observation as a cleansing.

Text and photo by Kevin Stewart

A FOGGY MEMORY

Y
It was as if a prayer had been answered but since I do not pray, I consider it a dream come true. This goes all the way back to the last time I visited writer's cove (a place in the woods where a famous Finnish writer retreats). There, I got close to the cold sea. Winter had set in and the rowboat had to be turned over. The icy waters forbid any human from passing its shores. I stood there, innocent of skills to read her gifts. I stumbled along a rocky shoreline and peered through my lens seeking to capture and have communion in peace. That was two weeks ago.

YESTERDAY'S FOG
I was likewise without the familiarity of how to photograph fog yesterday. Just the night before the fog reached the shoreline, Päivikki Stewart and I laid side by side (she with her novel and I with an borrowed book on art ). The painting in the book, NORTHERN LIGHTS, all by Nordic painters, seeped into my mind as sleep beckoned me. I was hungry for a chance to step forward using the inspiration I was receiving. I asked Paivikki, does the fog here come in the morning or afternoon? "Both", she replied and got up to turn off the lights. That was two nights ago.
The next day, the fog came. I had no certainty that it would, something in me must have sensed it. As Paivikki wished me well for the day she added, "its foggy outside". Without hesitation, I dressed and walked to the marina by the Baltic Sea. Ekenas was indeed bathed in fog for most of the day. I would put into practice what I felt about Finland and my desire to capture and speak in images.
I set my camera for a fast shutter speed and the almost eerie blue tones came straight from the camera. I posted them with little photo-shop work. I marveled at what I had accomplished then as I had back on writer's cove. Eventually I will push some of the blues tones back out. The fog receded as the day advanced but this all happened like a prayer and a dream.

THIS TEXT WAS WRITTEN DECEMBER 2016 POSTED SEPTEMBER 11, 2017

JK STEWART FIINDS A GEM

JKstewart promotes POETRY NIGHTS & Cafe ZAMZAM

THE SHARECROPPER' DAUGHTER

THE SHARECROPPER' DAUGHTER.
If she were real she would have a lover and his name would be something like a HERB. He would seek her company only after the twilight lights hang long but just as the sunset. She would have a place behind an old ramshackled barn where they to meet to embrace and talk of "being together".
She would be twenty year old and still at home as most of her peers would be, They would all reside on bottom land but work hard at the soil rich fields where they worked for some wealthy land owner. All their dreams would be bottled up in anguish yet they would were the smiles of contentment for whites who would not care for frowns.

She would love to push herself upon Herb and his ruffly hewed fabrics would scratch her breast ever so coarsely. He would hope for the day when he could afford a white shirt and enough to buy some candy for her,. But their dreams would be deferred....because she would be
THE SHARECROPPER'S DAUGHTER

SHADOWS SPEAK SWEDISH

An interview with Mia Öblom

Post Midsummer Post 1st Quar School

Finns know of the available attractions surrounding Raseborg. They know of the locations and they know more: the stories that gave rise to the sustained as well as declined environments of castles as well as hamlets. These things are nothing new. Nonetheless, there are always pockets of knowledge Finns have about this cherished region (the oldest portions of Finland proper) and they are eager to exchange them with foreigners like me. There inside these stories are sometimes private sometimes hidden relics. One can always find a plethora of adventures to choose from. While I am under doctor's advice to stay home, I can't repress the attempt to choose something to get out to see some more sights. Still I will stay close to home here in Ekenas. There is a second-hand shop that also provides charity worldwide: Emmaus Sommarjippo-Kesäjippo ringing in my ears. Its a short walk from my yard. Just recently I posted about the treasures I found there in CD'S. But what I wish to share now are treasure of a different sort. So while I must hold on awhile longer before I can venture forth into the sunshine once more, I wish to share with you brief adventures of time and places seen during my time at Vastra Nyland vastra nyland the local newspaper.

Over the course of a two week period, I traveled around Raseborg visitraseborg  with Thomas Sundstrom, Sofia Westerholm and Kristoffer Nöjd (all reporters at of Vastra Nyland), I learned much more about each location and its the surrounding habitats than any tour guide book may have offered. For them (the reporters with whom I traveled) the day's journeys to and fro were work related. Still Finns and Swedes alike take a certain pride in this land. Even seasoned reporters such at Thomas and Kristoffer find pointing out this and that and filling the time with anecdotes noteworthy. Even with their dispassionate accounts, one can discern a kind of pride in these tales.

From the first outing (always by car) til the last each reporter's windshield and words became a portal opening vistas for my wide-eyed escapades. Speeding by I was ushered into history and lore. From Tenala to Skaldo the daily nagging cloud cover could not conceal the terrains of beauty past and present. Indeed the seven types of flowers a hopeful bride might adorn herself with, as told me by Sophia, or the architectural designs that went into a retirement homes built by a women's auxiliary group in Bromary bromarv tickled my ears with delightful information.

At each destination, I met people who repressed their stares at me because I was apart of a team. A team who had come to write about either an event or their own business. We had an equality in our respective curiosities. They toward me an over sized AMERICAN with camera dangling and them to me as I figured them good peaceful folk. Thus while each writer conducted his or her interviews, I was free to make the best use of my time scouting about the premises for portrait shots of those they interviewed. At one cottage village, a kind of village harbor, I was intrigued by the goings on pf people near and afar. I had not been up close to boating people and seeing women carrying luggage along long piers making their ways to boats while bird hovered above was both picturesque and editorial. Such visuals offered a pealed away sighting into a rare slice of life. These working class eyes could only relish such scenes in movies of the good life. Thomas told me of how most where residents of Helsinki who had come to spend their summers tucked away in these peaceful get-a-ways.

People were certainly not the only sights and sounds that spoke to me. Nature nodded to us many times. Perhaps hidden behind trees or rocks. However leaving Scaldo, some deer crossing the road stared at Krisoffer and I as if we were the ones out of place. Perhaps we were. I certainly was.... I would do it again.

JK Stewart Participates and Interviews

Reading from James Balwin's "GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAINS"

JKstewart captured Patrik Mikael's 'COSMIC MEDITATIVE'

ACTORS WITH SOUTHERN HERITAGE

https://creators.co/@kevinstewart/2155501 

I want to make comments about this actor but I feel I can add to my own observations by bringing in the link below. Firstly, I saw Shea Whigham a southern born actor in Sliver Lining Playbook last night. I was joyed because like Michael Shannon (Kentucky born) and director Jeff Nichols (Arkansas born) I follow these boys as a sort of SOUTH WILL RISE AGAIN game I play with watching actors rise who are of southern stock. In the post I wrote several months ago, (see link below) my focus was on Leading Men. Shea is not that ...yet... I started following him in 2009 when he appeared in "Bad Lieutenant Port of Call.." Since then I chuckle when I see him. He often plays comical though ruthless characters.

Secondly, Michael Shannon and he both played pivotal roles on the HBO series BOARDWALK. Shannon often plays more complex character roles. Jeff Nichols, the director responsible for MUD with Mathew McConaughey, often makes use of Shannon's 'uncompromising gaze'.Hope I did not inundate you with all this....but you seem to share my passion.