Monday, 31 March 2014

Last of March

Still too sick to do much else than eat hard boiled eggs and ham (muscle feed) and sleep in the low grasses on the farm, I fooled around with my camera while General was doing woodworks and Lyra was acting the adorable little fool that she is all around me. Tomorrow is fool's day, so she's rehearsing.

Fat, hairy and can't get enough of honey.. Oh, how I can relate :D

Feetsies! (All lame photographers should take pickies of ther feetsies. And puppies.)

Almost carpentry

The idiot abroad

Adorable :D


Still weak.

First real walk after a week. Felt goood. I mean, am tired as heck, but at least my brain cell got  ventilated and am starting to form coherent subjects again.  Example. I had two intelligent thought today already. Had some help, but there they are.
One. Did you know it’s possible to suffer from caffeine withdrawal? It was right there in front of me the whole time – feeling nauseated, feeling chemically unbalanced and I kept blaming the vitamins. But I hadn’t had coffee in 6 days. This shit hurts like a bitch! I feel terrible!
This is Coffee God’s idea of punishing me after I said I’ll stop asking people out for coffee.
Two. All of history is a matter of popularity as opposed to quality. Our entire historical legacy has nothing to do with quality. Things that survived were things that were many and close to the feeding sink. In fact – and I apologize for using a quote here  - whoever said the amazing thing about Shakespeare, when everyone says he’s really good, is that he’s actually really good, falls harder than you might think.
We are always amazed when somebody no-name is discovered to have left behind outstanding product, as if – but how isn’t this in text books?? Who was this person? Why isn’t s/he famous? Well, because they weren’t interested or interesting enough to be famous. This goes worst for art, namely because it’s so fiercely subject to interpretation at the time… but no less terribly for science or music. (I still think music is science crossdressing as art.) You have people out there who look down on Bach for pete’ssakes.. Anyways. It is today as it has always been – popularity had nothing to do with quality and since the dawn of time until tomorrow, you’ll have bestseller crap and soul-wrenching doorstops. Even while they were still alive, those really good, professional authors had to be messed up in some way to be interesting to the general public: they either had to be young, beautiful, wild, drug addicts and hopefully married to their sisters or they had to be old, wild, secluded, living on some island lighthouse, mysteriously evolved, murderers, war heroes or gay. If they weren’t worthy of tabloids, they weren’t being sold. Happily married, normal people with families, or better yet, vaginas, were not interesting enough for history. Only professors of their narrow subject will know fairly anything about them. The juicy ones, the ones with life stories almost as appealing as their work – those are what we learn in grade school of. Who the fuck has ever heard of  John Herschel? That dude was amazing! (He was n astronomer, granted, those tend to be even less desirable than sculptors, but still.) But neup. He wasn’t a roaring twenties socialite or a roaring alcoholic war correspondent.. It’s kind of like my sister, who thinks because something is bigger, it’s more evolved. (She thinks mites fart mould.) Jarmush said it best about his vampire lady: she’s too good to be famous.
There is a good story and then there is a good story with sex or blood in it.
History does not look kindly on non-dramatic entries.
… This coffee withdrawal is starting to depress me. I can’t concentrate for three fucking minutes. I’ll go photograph shiny things for a while.

I take everything too seriously. I need a hobby. Like… making hand puppets. I’ve never made hand puppets before.
I’m sleepy.

Sunday, 30 March 2014

"Alekzander wire" Co.

I got an idea for a biography so hard in my dream, it sat me up in bed like a plank.


As a rule, I can't start just one project, or even just two. It has to be three. Like launching three space shuttles to make sure one gets it. One of those usually shows technical difficulties at the very start and just falls off and into mellow waters, leaving the obvious two. Those then run strong and parallel and very often both mature into completion, one of them being important and one of them being fun. 
I have gotten to the point where I have two strong...

... Oh, holy fuck.
Never mind.
I have three.

I'll be right back.

Transformers poster

Granted, these movies are made for retarded children (I saw one once, so let's just leave it at 'for children'), but this is one evil looking ship. I would normally be the first one to put the kettle on to welcome alien life, but robots... I don't do robots. Robots are cold.

Saturday, 29 March 2014

Why do i get this weird feeling my world is going to end by thursday? :/

Most of my health is gradually putting itself back together. If feels gooood. I am still pissed that pretty much all of my muscle mass has gone to better places, what little I managed to accumulate during the past few weeks. But okay. Clean slates. Muscle memory and all that.
Just one thing remains, something that bothers me immensely. Whenever I am sick, my sense of smell gets very acute. By this I mean to say it is probably half of what normal people have and yet, to be able to smell so many odors and fragrances… This is fairly freakish.
Scent is the only thing one cannot download from the internet (well, okay, and touch and stuff), so when someone is complaining of a cheap perfume, I think, fine, whatever, trifles. And I can easily claim I prefer humans without any artificial scents, because I like normal skin, not chemicals. Hunters tend to be odorless; it’s the whole idea of stealth across the board. But today, the people in theater, good gods. I now know why my dog sometimes sneezes, passing ladies in the street. The amount of stuff folk wears! From the worst of cheapest to the nicest imaginable, but sooo much of it! Isn’t it a protocol to spray a small cloud of fragrance in the air before yourself and then walk into it, just to give yourself a whiff of … dunno, something flowery I suppose? Mixed with the leather and the street smells and the smell of coins and printer ink and the mites and beer and people smoking outside, coming in…
Is it okay on normal people to have to endure all this? Does it just take getting used to? Cause, honestly, I don’t think I’m missing all that much. They say smell is one of the most important senses and yes, no, please, take all the points out and put it in the sight. I far prefer distinguishing 2000 colors than 200 smells. Like the sense of temperature is overrated. Is it cold or is it hot or is it comfy? There really is no need to dig deeper into that one.

Midnight trailers

Night Moves

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

A Thousand Times Good Night

Well, when you’re going through a shitty flu recovery, you tend to spend a lot of the night staring at the ceiling, swallowing your own thrown-up stomach acid in tiny amounts - and watching trailers. Watching trailers is an excellent pastime, even when you are not sick. I often make my own in my head, to see what tone my stories are setting. Also, trailer music rocks. And pretty much anything looks promising, judging by a trailer.
(Not really – you can quickly tell what is going to suck donkey balls, just by how awfully desperate the trailer sounds. I’m thinking Divergent and The Maze runner, the blatant rip offs Hunger Games, which actually looks like parts of Hunger Games that were left out. Unfortunately, when someone made a good movie out of a reasonably cool book and it was a great success, suddenly any number of stupid movies from completely useless books are all over and the marketing for them is depressing. For two weeks I’ve been seeing noting but Divergent all over Imdb, RottenTomatoes and magazines… As if it’s actually anything to go see. People used to say Troy is terrible. Bring back Troy, please. Any  day.)

So. One can be super smart about movies before you see them.
Heck, I’m nothing if not opinionated. The only thing about all this that makes me feel extra excellent is that when I ask what General thinks, he is voicing my arguments EXACTLY. Go me.

Night moves

This looks like it’s going to be a cool, creepy movie that they stole from some cool, creepy book without acquiring copy rights and, which is the part that puzzles me, without trying to really hide the fact it’s based on that book. (Monkeywrench gang or something..) Okay, so the premise is three weird folk, two dudes and a babe, set to break a hydroelectric dam. Because, you know, dams are evil. They flood stuff and they, I dunno, make electricity, which is evil. There's Peter sarsgaard in it, who always looks evil.
This cracks me up. Those poor Chinese villages, all of which were destroyed for some evil big power plant…
I’m sorry? Have you ever actually been to a really remote area in a third world country, where there is no electricity? Where they still exist in the Stone Age? Where they marry little girls and cut off hands of thieves and a diarrhea will kill you? Oh, you think those villages are quaint? You think poverty, disease and illiteracy are quaint? You think the really smart people who managed to build an enormous source of energy for an incredibly vast population did it because they felt like it? And that life in China was so much better before electricity came their way? 
Show me one non-religious, non-military urban attempt that fails to benefit from technology. Not in books or TV shows. In the real world. 
Just once, just once I wish those morons would travel the places I’ve traveled and saw what it’s like for people who are too fucking dumb to embrace progress. All that idyllic tribal let’s hold hands and dance around the fire in the purity and generosity of nature and gentleness of life.. Please. Just once, go to a shitty backbeat third world country. And then tell me how it would all be solved if you removed their electricity, running water, sewerage and medicine, brought in by the modern folk. Just once. Just once. 
How that fucking pisses me off.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Awww, look at the little antenae on his head!

One of the cutest things my sister ever said, when I told her the TNMT are coming in again, was “Were they ever out?” :D
Now, I should stress I am an adult woman and that when I first saw the first TNMT movie, I was 13 – but I always loved it and I watched it again a few weeks back and I still loved it. I loved the costumes and the hair on April, I LOVED Casey Jones and would adore Coteas for years afterwards, up until when I saw him in Crash, where he scared me.. I loved the voice acting and the little turtles and the way gang life is portrayed, cigarettes being the worst thing any youth can ever think of doing. (Strangling a milf hooker while doing her in the ass, high on meth while the house is on fire?) I just really liked everything about that movie. I don’t remember much of what followed for the franchise, it probably wasn’t all that good.
Now Michael Bay is making a new one. Okay. Admittedly, as much as I hated Eva Green when I first saw her, I kind of like her now and as god-awful I will always think Megan Fox is, she is at least wearing clothes in this one. The turtles are a lot bigger, CGI, obviously, and kind of menacing looking. Leonardo looks like a monster (…turn-on? Probably.), though Mikey is as adorable as ever. And William Fichtner as Shredder? Sold.
I love my brain. It’s capable of equally worshipping movies such as Grande Bellesa and TMNT. Not to brag, but that’s a wide fucking span.

A Thousand Times Good Night
If you're Juliette Binoche, your burnt face will heal faster than a mosquito bite

I mentioned this before, how my dad forbade war reportage as a profession – only profession he forbade, and I’ve been reading commentary on how the director seems to assume the subject itself is enough to fill the gaps in the script…
Well, you either get it or you don’t. I have to say – and this is something General will never fully comprehend – I admire myself for being able to opt for the uneventful existence. You cannot believe the draw of photogenic action, where your only focus is.. focus. With that camera in front of your face, you actually think you’re immortal. Bulletproof. I’ve gone into shit so many times, camera first, it’s amazing nothing ever befell me, bigger than a few stones. Even a few years back, when I was way over this need to put myself between the rock and the hard place, and there were protests happening in Nepal, I intuitively ran straight into the clash zone. General had to drag me out and he was very angry. What the fuck was I thinking? Well, I wasn’t. I was auto focusing.
It’s possible that the movie will be bad or at least melodramatic and condescending, but war reporting is the same as any other terribly dangerous sport: you either do it alone or you retire and live happily ever after in Celje. Inability to choose a side always ends in tragedy. You think witless teens are cannon fodder? Who do you think is running in front of them, taking pictures?

Friday, 28 March 2014

A flu?? Really? A fucking flu??

Sicker still...

Bloody Hell - I actually developed a fever! I haven't had a fever in a decade! ... It's not half as fun as people say.
REALLY bed bound :((

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Everything wrong with... Titanic

LoL, watching a Cinema Sins mocking commentary on Titanic's plot...
   "To me it was a slave ship, taking me back to America in chains..." [and shot of a very pretty very rich young lady, upping the first class stairs.]
Commentary: "I think I've read about a slave or two who might change places with you."

Later, Jack in tux bids Rose goodnight: "It's time for me to go row with the other slaves."
Commentary: "I think I've read about a slave or two... Oh, fuck it."

Dying Jack to Rose on the makeshift raft:"... and you're gonna make lots of babies..."
Commentary: "Yea, after that hot sex with Jack and considering currect situation, she has plenty of frozen empbryos..."
Ouch :D

And also their Avatar commentary is pretty vicious :D

Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Add tummy sickness to my overall sickness. No one has every been as sick as meee... :(((

... Oh, look. Lots of very pretty chocolate wrappings. How did those get here?


Reading about Vivian Maier..

.. I especially love the part in which a guy asks why would a nanny take photographs.
Anyways, this was an unknown, undeveloped lady with a Hasselbladt, who loved to take street photos. They were discovered, the negatives, after she was already gone, but you can tell she was really into pushing the big button, not as much the endgame. She failed to even develop them. I can relate to this, all too well. Another drop in my bucket of my street photography ambition.

Still sick, damnit ://

Hate being sick for more than one day, though it seems the floodgates of every bacillus and virus have been opened two days ago, when I got hit with vertigo. The immune system hiccoughed, party on. I'm drinking TEA, people. TEA. What English ladies and gay poets drink. Tea. My nose is so stuffed, the brain cell isn't getting any oxygen, so I am even dumber than usual. Most of the time I just stare at the screen and wait for something to happen. I have an urge to read children's picture books or, better yet, have them read to me. 16-piece iPod puzzles are giving me problems. Xena feels like the Godfather.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Sick :S

Eh, poot. Am coming up with one of the spring bugs. I know this is necessary for boosting my immune system, but it sucks donkey balls nonetheless. I feel like my clothes were made of sandpaper :S

Watching Crossing Lines. It is not the worst procedural, although my standards are fairly high and it's supposed to be taking place in Europe, yet everything is super American. All cast is super cute and females are all 20-something models and guys are all 30-something hotties, there's lots of handguns handling and high tech dick measuring. I am not the one to miss out on anything with William Fichtner in it and there's some Donald Sutterland and Tom Wlaschiha is edible as always. The crimes and search are nice and long, nothing too complicated. there hasn't been any car chases yet, give it time. The one nice lady that was in the pilot, played by Genevieve O'Rilley, died by the end of the pilot. She was the only one who looked old enough to be trusted with the worst of crimes. Somehow in the real world, I'd prefer someone with at least three years of experience chasing an international criminal and saving me. But it doesn't hurt that they look good while they'd be at it.

Monday, 24 March 2014

300 2.0


Watched 300 with Maja. I needed this, we both did. It only takes 120.000 beautiful men to die in a blood sea for her to cheer up and all i need to feel better is to eat a bucket load of ... well, many things, and a movie with a lot of photogenic scenery and inventive costumes and we're settled. I'm not sure what went on (in fact am a little bit embarrassed to have forgotten who exactly fucked up whom where in those days), though I am fairly certain human body contains only 8 litres of blood and people with split knees shouldn't be able to run... But okay. The trailer beforehand was that of Noah - another film you can't really go in with logic switched on. There's just no way for a barge like that not to tilt dangerously in such weather with all those animals unrestrained inside....
So. It was a movie much needed. Also, I bought another truckload of chocolate, because I am turning it's wrappings into book markers. that's the only reason I am buying a truckload of chocolate. Lindt can turn the tides of your whole day.

I know this is not in appreciation of my species, but... Those poor people. Those poor ants. All we ever do is fight and fuck and fight and burn and fuck and build and fight and ruin... nameless billions of billions of hotblooded candles in the rain... For no reason, no purpose, no reward, killing one another over and over and over again. An occasional leaf with a name written on it gets caught in the branches of time momentarily, but other than that a myriad of nameless souls pollutes Heaven with no hope of ever changing a Goddamn thing. Plus an occasional epic speech. Grievously underappreciated job to have, being a speech writer for a warlord.

Feeling bad :/

Felling more and more queasy, because about twice a year a vertigo hits me and I have to keep my head down from rolling off and my neck from barfing. It's a shitty condition, but at least it passes within a day or two and I can still play video games while I wait and commiserate.
It does, though, diminish my capacity for romanticism, and makes me feel kind of worn out. I get the sneaking suspicion the universe is laughing at my good intentions. I woke up earlier and had two missed calls from two people I’ve been trying to match-make for weeks, but who refuse to allow themselves to be hammered together, mainly because they both claim the other one wouldn’t like them. I hate it when two pieces of the puzzle refuse to fit. Ruins my whole grand scheme of things. Things would be so much easier if everyone listened to me and did what I say.
Anyways. The missed calls were mostly butt-dials. That much about that. And Will Gardner dies in Good Wife. Am marginally depressed now. I’ve decided what my 40-day lent will be… Not so much abstinence from coffee in general, but asking people on coffee dates. It’s usually me who does the instigating, so now I’ll wait to see what happens. See who actually enjoys my company or just endures it. I am in the right shitty enough mood to do these things to myself.
I may watch the Nymphomaniac again, without skipping scenes. From the bottom up, I may actually find some things about it that make sense.

The EF 16-35mm f/2.8 L II USM

“Your judgment or your taste has never been in question. You buy seldom, and when you do, you leave wasteland on the credit accounts.” (G about my shopping.)
Most of my big winter projects are nearing completion. This is also the only time in the past few years that I have more money than I can spend. That is to say, I have no money and absolutely nothing I would need. This makes me nervous. Usually I am more feminine than that and can always think of something important I cannot live without. If I had several grand on my account, that trip to Mongolia would probably come bobbing up again, along with all the arguments for and against. What savings I did have, General took to buy me a new computer, tired of me throwing things around the room for having a crap processor and graphics fit for a fifteen year old phone. A few grand would also lean steeper into a purchase of a Mac already, but no. I like the computer that I have. Even if it is eight years old and sound like it has an old diesel locomotive falling through it. The gentleman in the store explained that the comp we were looking at establishes it’s Windows in 4.3 seconds once you turn it on. I can relate to that. I can have 4.3 coffees before Windows start working in mine.
So, between what I would do if I really had a lot of money (go on a long trip, publish another book, start looking at real estate…) and having just a little money, which I merrily waste on books, chocolate, make-up, books, coffee dates, books and books, there’s this.
My next lens.

This is a wide-angle landscape or, as I like to call it, street-photography 2.8 L series USM, not a prime, granted, but a beauty nonetheless. Oddly enough, I cannot find primes that would serve me better – Canon either has a 17mm/ f/4 tilt-shift, overpriced, a 20mm/ f/2.8, which doesn’t really excel in anything or a 24mm/ f/2.8, which is already dangerously close to my kit lens. (Kits are not dark horses, but they do prove to be extremely, well, wide-ranged in their practicality.) Considering I am not really a street photographer (yet), that is less to do with my lack of a motivation than it is with an actual lack of a street. Oh, I do have a street. A very noisy street. It’s right down here. But this is a small provincial town. Street-wise, nothing ever happens that would grow above the need of a 50mm.
So, as investments and ambitions go, this is now on the top of my list. Its right between important and fun, trivial stuff. As the thing about the lenses, they tend to inspire beautiful hunts.