> Now THIS is pure gold. I am a COMPLETE slave to routine, and this is where I need to start breaking free. I have been starting to do some of the things you suggested, but I will work on doing more of them.

Right outside where I live, there used to be a big hospital with many buildings. Now the hospital moved, and some of the old, ugly buildings are being torn down to make room for new, modern ones. The whole area is being turned into offices, apartments, schools etc.

One day some weeks ago, I came home from work and found the corner of one of the buildings smouldered. The rebars stuck out of the jagged edges of the concrete walls and floors, twisted like my chest hairs. All the windows had been removed, leaving dark, empty holes which gave the building a desolate look.

It looked like war had been going on for years, and someone had shot a grenade at the corner of the building a long time ago. It was weird standing there in the middle of peaceful Oslo and feel like I was somewhere in the Middle East. I stood there on the sidewalk for a minute, watching the scene, pondering this strange feeling. I thought: "I should take pictures of this. 'War in Oslo!'" But I didn't.

The morning after, the demolition team was back in place, continuing their work from the day before. There was a crane with a "basket" hanging from its end, and in this basket two men stood, holding fire hoses and aiming the water at where the demolition machine was working to reduce the amount of dust flying about. The demolition machine itself consisted of a machine that looked like a steam shovel, but instead of a shovel, it had a giant robot hand in the end. The driver would just get a good grip on a wall or floor segment and pull it down. Sometimes other segments would fall, too, as a result of lack of support from the one being pulled down.

I stood there on the sidewalk again, this time for maybe as much as half an hour, just watching this process, while people rushed by, maybe stopping for a few seconds to have a second look. It felt a little strange, since I, amidst all the busy, serious people, took the time to just stand there and do nothing more useful than watching others work. But I found it fascinating. Almost like sitting in front of a fireplace, watching the ever shifting flames consume the wood logs. Here, something we normally consider rock solid, was being ripped apart like a child opens its Christmas presents. And as I stood there watching, a whole new air space opened up before me. Suddenly, I could see some big trees which until then had been concealed by the gray, functionalistic building.

I didn't get around to taking the pictures. By this time it was too late. The machines were now in the way, and the destruction had come too far. But I took the time to stand there and film the demolition with my mind. I was already late for work, and this made me half an hour more late, but it was worth it. I did what *I* wanted there and then, without concern of what others might think about me.

Saturday night, I visited a friend and his fiancé. On my way home at about 1:30 a.m., I passed by a big old grain silo (with eight big cylinders in two rows of four) which is being converted into student quarters. It had a big, yellow crane with four giant lights on it. It was a misty night, so the lights had cones of light streaming out of them. It was a remarkable scene, and although I was tired and on my way home to bed, I decided that I wouldn't let *this* motif pass me by, too. So I went home, got my camera and a tripod, went back and shot a whole 36 picture film. I was done just before four o'clock. It was a bit cold after a while, and I got a bit tired, but I *did* it, and I can't wait to see the pictures! (I will scan the best ones (if there are any) and put them online, so if you want to see them, let me know.)

My point? Well, just around Christmas, I was up to way over my head in work, and didn't have time for *anything* else. (I *stole* time to go on RinkWorks, because I had to do *something* that was just *me*. And you people *saved* me from going insane, I think. Thank you, my ruling friends!) Now, when things are much better, I have to *fight* myself to break out of the routine of work, work, work, and do things I *want*. I don't do it with a schedule, because I don't work that way. Trust me, I've tried to put my life into many kinds of structures throughout the years, but I just can't do it. But I have to learn to follow my instincts and my intuition, and act on sudden whims and notions. I'm starting to do that, and it pays off. My life is getting richer again.

Trav"Phew! ':-) A looong post!"holt