Dare to be Different. Or Exactly the Same?

Remember teenage? That awkward time in your life when all you wanted was to fit in, to be exactly like your friends. You all laughed at the same jokes, listened to the same music and wore the same clothes. Then something happened. At some point you realize you don't need to be the same. It is ok to be different.

But no.

Eurovision Song Contest was yesterday. Who won? A transvestite. So now half the population is super siked cause, after all, a transvestite won and half the population is going WTF, cause, after all, a transvestite won. One friend of mine commented on ESC as follows

Eurovision Song Contest… Can there be anything so unnecessary? Why does the winner always have to be "different" or "obtrusive" in other ways then with a good song or a good voice. Come on, is there no other way to spend that money. With the cash that goes into the Eurovision Song Contest, you could build a children's hospital in every one of those countries or do other more reasonable projects.

Well, while we're at it we might just as well cancel Christmas. With all the money that goes into Christmas, we could build a village of hospitals. And the same goes for the Football World Cup. Brazil, cut it out! You don't need to build any more stadiums that will go to total waste after the games, FIFA World Cup is hereby CANCELLED! Because a transvestite won the Eurovision Song Contest.

The World Cup is on You, Conchita! (photo ORF/Thomas Ramstorfer)

And yes, it is the same thing. Some people love to see a pack of guys chasing a little white ball, some people love to see a man dressed as a woman sing about a phoenix. What's the big deal? We all enjoy different things, but now it's not ok anymore? What are we, teenagers again?

Another friend of mine wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, she says, this could mean that Europe has become more tolerant, which is fantastic, or it can mean that whoever has the best costume wins. It is not that long ago that Finland won the contest with a band of monsters. This is a very good point. 

You know the phrase "Hell freezes over, Finland wins the Eurovision Song Contest"? There is one with Finland winning the football World Cup. Except we already won the Eurovision Song Contest.

Let's see who has won the Eurovision Song Contest over the last years. Last year it was Emmelie de Forest. A young Danish girl. She was barefoot on stage. The year before it was Loreen. A Swedish woman who was also barefoot on stage. I think it's rather a nice change that this year the winner wore shoes and wasn't from the Nordic countries. Before these barefooted girls it was Ell & Nikki that won the competition the first time ever for Azerbaijan. They both wore shoes. In 2010 it was another young woman, Lena from Germany. What's up with all these women? Why is the winner always a woman? Thank the good gracious for Alexander Rybak who won the year before with his violin. He was different, he won the competition with the most points ever. Before that, in 2008, another male won the contest, Russian Dima Bilan, and can you believe, he too wore no shoes! Thankfully, Marija Serifovic who won the year before wore both shoes and didn't rip open her shirt as did Dima. The year before, in 2006, Hell froze over when Finland won. Lordi made history as the first and only hard rock act to win the Eurovision Song Contest. Dressed as monsters, they rocked Europe making one important statement: it's ok to be a monster. Saying that they only won because of their masks is like saying I could go on that staged dresses as a lesbian squirrel with vampire teeth singing about squirrel lesbian love and win the competition. Europe would go nuts over my lesbian, flying nuts and name me the queen of squirrels. Or nuts.

The costume of Emmelie de Forest that won last year (Picture cp24.com)

Looking back almost ten years, who has won? Three of the winners have been barefoot, most have been women and only one monster band. I can agree that Lordi was different, but besides Lordi, I wouldn't say that the other winners have had obscure costumes. In fact, I could even go as far as to say the clothes that have been worn and the individuals wearing them have been quite normal. One lesbian, but that's it. Thus, I wouldn't say that the best costume wins. I would even dare say the best performance wins.

I heard Conchita for the first time yesterday. I had not heard the song, but I had seen pictures of her. I would have put my money on it as soon as I heard it and saw the strong performance. It is not just a man dressed in a golden gown, it is a good song performed with power and feeling. Does it help to be a transvestite? Perhaps. But it doesn't make the song less good or the performance any less powerful. 

This you are ok with? (Picture from the music video Wrecking Ball)

In fact, throughout time, music and musicians have often stood out. Remember Elvis? The King of Rock 'n Roll, the best selling artist of all time. In the 50's, Look magazine wrote that Elvis is "a wild troubadour who wails rock 'n roll tunes, flails erratically at a guitar and wriggles like a peep-show dancer". Pink Floyd made an album called The Wall. Michel Jackson sung about being black or white, The Prodigy about smacking your bitch up. Killing In The Name by Rage Against the Machine, Fuck The Police by N.W.A, artists like Marilyn Manson, punk rock for god's sake. It is all about controversy, about making a statement, about standing out, about one or all of these things. Now if you think a bearded man in a glittering gown is even half as striking as God Save The Queen by Sex Pistols or Justify My Love by Madonna, then be my guest. It doesn't change the fact that the performance was stunning and the song was good.

God save the queen

The fascist regime

They made you a moron

Potential H-bomb

Another friend of mine told me it's a shame when music or sports or other cultural aspects of our society gets entangled with politics. To some extent I agree. Should Russia have had the winter Olympics? Should Belarus have the ice hockey world championships? If the answer is no, then that's as good as saying that you can't have the games because of your crimes against humanity and political actions. If the answer is yes, it's as good as saying that you can have the games despite your crimes against humanity and political actions. Either way it's a statement. 

Punk rock didn't come to be because people were happy and wanted to sing love songs. It came to be to express (political) views and beliefs. Saying that politics and culture shouldn't mix is like saying God doesn't exist, because in the end it doesn't really matter if God exists or not. People will still go to church and culture and politics will still mingle. They are the same thing as much as they are opposites.

Politics aside, naturally I couldn't go through this post without stumbling on some really offensive comments. Vanja comments

Hitler come back 

I mean, what am I even supposed to comment on that? Have we not come any further? Really, who the fuck cares if you're a man dressed as a woman or a woman dressed as a man? Are you going to let yourself be provoked by a dress? Just enjoy the song, enjoy the competition, politics and music are intertwined, face it and move on. Some sing about bubblegum, some sing about politics, some sing about sex, some sing about all of these things. Let the phoenix fly its transgender, transvestite, homosexual flight with the lesbian squirrel on its back and be done with it. Because really, the more you hate, the more these freak shows will love!

I, for one, will enjoy that flight as long as it lasts and GO! half of Europe for being open minded!

I'm Just A Dreamer - Part Two

A couple of months ago I told you about my dream in a blog post. My precious little dream that I had so cruelly locked away in a little dusty jar, lid closed so tightly you'd need a screwdriver to open it. But I did. I did open the lid and I took the leap of faith, out in the wild and unknown world of commercial TV. It is a strange world that doesn't make any sense to me. What you see on TV, naturally, is totally different from the reality. Mostly, we sit around waiting for things to happen. And we walk. A lot. My friend called me during the shooting and asked me how it was going. I told her I will be a pro at walking after this competition. I might not sing any better, but I'll sure know how to walk. They are shooting us from every possible angle, walking here and there, it all seems silly. So far away from the what I came here to do. But I do not despair, I knew my dream would need a lot of work and I'll walk a week straight for them if that's what it takes.

Waiting...

It all started when I was a kid. Like any other kid, I'd pick up my moms hairbrush and sing in it like it was a microphone, stand in front of the mirror, waggling my hips to the beat of an imaginative beat, performing to an imaginative audience who was imaginatively chanting my name like a choir. I decided I was going to be a rock star.


After waiting (and walking) for many, many, many hours, it's finally my turn. It only takes a few minutes and then it's over. A few minutes and I'm on the tram on my way to the train station to catch a train with my mum and her husband. It feels surreal, like it didn't really even happen. But it did. I am reminded of this when I see myself on TV a few months later. It's the strangest feeling, and not one I particularly enjoy. I'd rather turn off the TV, not watch it at all. Nonetheless, I do watch, together with 630 000 others. The amount of messages and Facebook comments overwhelms me. It's crazy how people get involved, how they want me to succeed. Even people I've never met. It is one of the nicest feelings, people caring even when they have no reason to do so.

There's just something about drinking cognac out of a plastic mug. On the train. With your mum. After performing to four hard core musicians...

This all happened a few months ago. A few days from now, on Friday 7th to be more specific, it's time for the next challange, the next leap of faith. It will be the second time I get on the stage in front of the judges, but this time only one person will make the cut. My coach, Mira Luoti, is (or I guess was since the band did their last show only a few months ago) part of a well known Finnish duo called PMMP. She alone will decide my faith, she alone will decide whether I continue in the competition or not. The pressure is on, but I must say it's not half as bad as I would have thought. I must say, this time around my heart is not beating quite as hard, my hands aren't shaking and my head feels calm. Why?

Team Mira! <3

I have already gotten far more from this experience then I ever thought possible. I have met people I would otherwise never have met, done things I would never have done and learned things I would never have learned. There is a strange feeling of serenity to the situation, regardless of the craziness of it. For me the most important thing are the people, and no I'm not talking about celebrities. I've never been one to much care for if someone is famous or not. People interest me more for who they are then for what they do. Some people interest me also for what they do, but "moviestar" or "rock star" is usually not of interest. The people that I get to share this experience with are remarkable. There is something very special in a room with 20 singers, all singing the same song while someone plays the guitar. The variety of voices, notes and sounds is enchanting. Or partying with new found friends at the sleazy karaoke bar. Smiling till my cheeks hurt. It all sounds like a cliche, but I don't even care. These people are my family, even if just for a few days. In a way I have already won.

But how will the story end? Will it end at all? Below you can see a glass. This time not a plastic one. Only one question remains, and that is whether it is a drink to celebrate or to numb away disappointment. Stay tuned and I'll let you know!

I'm Just A Dreamer

Heart beating, shirt sticking to my cold sweating body, soon it'll be my turn. Someone tells me to breath, to take a deep breath and just dive in to the song and let the song tell the story. Easy for you to say, the spotlight isn't on you, dear. Someone shoves a mike in my hand and gives me a gentle push towards the stage. The crowd is silent, it's now or never.


Bob Marley once said "one good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain". Bobby was right, but also wrong. Sometimes music does inflict pain. Or joy. Or love. Or any number of feelings. Sometimes, music makes you feel so much it hurts. That's why I love music. For me, as a person that lives life more based on feelings then on rationale, music is the ultimate fountain of feelings. It's a way to ventilate all the good and the bad both in and out of your system.

Someone asked me what music means to me. On one hand, this is a very simple questions with a very simple answer: everything. On the other hand, it's the trickiest question of them all. How can I explain that music is like the air I breath, the rain after a drought, the spring sun after a cold winter, the first snowfall after a gray and dark autumn, like the best of wines combined with the best of foods enjoyed with the best of friends. It is pure joy. Music is like a love story, a bitter sweet one. Passionate and lustful, it eases me into a state of trust and devotion. It lures me into the deepest of satisfactions, yet always reminding me that we can never truly be together. Reminding me that I am not worthy. Until perhaps now.


Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. - Victor Hugo


It all started when I was a kid. Like any other kid, I'd pick up my moms hairbrush and sing in it like it was a microphone, stand in front of the mirror, waggling my hips to the beat of an imaginative beat, performing to an imaginative audience who was imaginatively chanting my name like a choir. I decided I was going to be a rock star. This was the only profession I could imagine. So I studied music for many years, until I graduated from high school and life's realities struck down on me. I went abroad, I studied, I worked and I buried my dream deep deep down inside of me. I closed the lid on it so tightly, I almost forgot the damn thing. But then you can't really forget your dreams, because without dreams, what do you really have left?


Without music, life would be a mistake. - Friedrich Nietzsche


About a year ago, I started practicing music again. After almost ten years off the stage, I did a show at my local pub and it was magical. At least for me, couldn't say about the audience. As I sang the songs on stage, I carefully took the off lid and, believe it or not, in that little jar I found my dream was still intact. A little older and perhaps a little rough around the edges, there it was exactly where I had left it. Thus, I decided to pick up my fragile little dream and see how far my wings would carry. I wanted to be a rock star. Again.


Without music to decorate it, time is just a bunch of boring production deadlines or dates by which bills must be paid. - Frank Zappa


This is how we get back to my beating heart and cold sweating body. My little dream needed a lot of work. I might add that during those years in that jar, my dream had become a little more humble than "rock star". Making a living out of music would really be enough. Just as a banker goes to work at the office in the morning, or a teacher prepares class, or a clerk tends to the shop, so did I too want to spend my days working with music. That is why I decided to take part in a competition.

I sent in an audio sample and next thing you know, I was called in to an audition. The cut was clean and simple: sing to us and we'll tell you if you got through or not. I stood waiting for the verdict with my friend. Here we go, they would call out the names of the ones that had made the cut. I hear someone say Cecilia. Cecilia? Well that's me! I see my friends red locks of hair dance in front of me as she is jumping up and down, screaming in my ear as I stand completely still, acting all super awesome and cool. Probably failing in the most embarrassing of ways. I was a step closer to my dream, my wings had carried me through my first jump.

This brings us to Friday. Two days from now, my fate will again be decided by someone else, this time by four music moguls. They will decide whether my wings will carry me closer to my dream, or if I will fall flat on my face. It's that leap of faith that everyone keeps talking about, it's happening. It's scary, it's fun and it's necessary. It's my life and, most of all, it is my dream.


Heart beating, shirt sticking to my cold sweating body. The lights feel warm on my face, my head is filled with a slight buzzing and the sound of my beating heart. The band plays the first riff of the song. The crowd is silent, it's now or never.