Thursday, 15 March 2012

One of those perfect family days today....


Alas, nothing much to report on the business side, but I am used to bad news in that department (or at least the thorough lack of bowel movement in the great artistic machinery), but around noon we decided to return to my parent's patch of heaven and things only got from okay to wonderful there. It's the days like these that make it worth a stupid happy grin. 


There was lots of various maintenance things to do, cleaning the BBQ place for Saturday, returning the sewer pipe that one of the dogs dug out, and then sis decided to name all the berry bushes she's planted and we made the little wooden plaques and burnt the titles in them...



And then we went down to the forest, which kind of made me really love living in the country-side...



And of course the doggies assisted avidly, chewing on stuff we threw away, stepping on stuff we planted, trying to eat the little wooden plaques we've hammered in...





Happy face. Chewing wood.



My huge husband and my tiny brother.



Emi. And Tara.



Mum, doing her own moving the trees around, Barky in tow...


Pascal, returning some of the wood we've  taken down to burn.


Making of the plaqueis..


A moment of rest for the hard-working men.


The Gen and Mags trying to transport logs without killing themselves, stepping over dogs...
... and so on...
Indeed, a perfect, perfect family day.



Tuesday, 13 March 2012

On soft and hard things

I am not a great believer in appearances of physical fitness. Looking over summer-time photos, when people wear skimpy clothes and parade their toned bodies, youths thinking that they are super beautiful because they haven't grown bellies and chest hair yet, girls whose hips haven't formed yet, thinking they are pretty... Then I look at the General (and I can, because he's on leave and I get to harass him 24/7, yeehaa :D) and think - even with a winter belly, even with chest hair, even with a lazy smirk on his pouty mouth, he would tear any one of them in half. Come wolves and winter, he would prove himself ten times the physical champion than any of the fitness freaks who have never even seen a woods axe in their lives, yet alone wielded it. I have seen men who look like they are an exhibiton of muscle and they couldn't run, swim or climb if their lives depended on it. I wouldn't expect any of them to carry me out of the fire. Though of course Gods have blessed some men with natural greatness and some people couldn't grow legs the size of the General's even if they lived in fitnesses. And then I press my ear to his massive chest and in it, in the dark wet cave under the hard bone plate thumps a heart like it was a tanker ship's engine pump.

Saturday, 10 March 2012

Sacher cake for a late night diner :) Closure of a cool Saturday. In the morning the sunny freezing walk with the bitches (and Drej :P), Cocta with Sara, which I haven't seen so long that I didn't think it was her when she strolled pass us, wearing pretty much every colour possible, like a pixie of spring. Then a bit of work and a bit of pancakes and a bit of more work and the new Harry's Law, then booboo came home and I skipped out to meet with Marjetka and Sergeja - who is kind enough to do my taxes for the previous year... Then we went to see another of the 'Comedy days' show that the General got us tickets for.


I am getting addicted to theatre again. I know I say this every time I get to see two shows in a row. And unlike movies, I cannot check reviews in advance and have any idea if the show will be any good, which makes me acutely aware of all the people and smells and heat in the auditorium, just before the show starts, maybe a few minutes in.
             But I saw and liked both this year, so far. Today's show, I think, was pretty wonderful.
             I am impressed by the sets the most. Yesterday Janja Vastl did a set for My Romantic History and tonight Vasilija Fišer did 'Against the Northern Wind'...



              Tonight story is this super passionate, turbulent relationship that two people have - who have actually never met. They're just email pen-pals and it starts really just by coincidence, because she sends the wrong mail at a wrong time to a wrong address. They start chatting, being cynical and kind of venting at first, but then she starts to be a bit slutty and bold and he a bit withdrawn and aloof, then they get tender, then they fight somewhat, sometimes over misunderstandings, sometimes because the previous letters were too blatantly sexual .. They agree to meet without really meeting once, in a crowded bar, so each just hopes the people they noticed were the ones they imagined, but they never really find out. Later on her husband writes the man to break the spell by having sex with the woman and the male protagonist decides to leave the country, but not before actually inviting her over to his apartment one last time. She is really excited, empowered and alive by the whole idea, (and at this particular moment nobody in the audience was breathing), but she eventually never goes. She sends one last letter to him, explaining why she never walked out of her own world, but her mail is already blocked. Thus the affair that never happened ends and when the show ends and lights come on and the two actors actually meet to bow, it feels really funny. They delivered a potent performance, one that it is very easily to relate to.
           I notice, though, funny enough, I really cannot stand people undressed on the stage. I just can't look. I look away and wait for the scene to be over, just listening. Somehow seeing a shirtless man just feels utterly unbecoming. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty naked people when I'm alone at home and horny, I love porn as much as the next Internet user, but that's porn. There's time and place for everything and seeing another man's naked chest is a definite no no in the real world. Stage included.


This is a good poster of the show... They talk about this later, about what happened when they went to the bar: she didn't think he was he, because he stood and held hands with a blond model (later proved to be his sister, providing a cover), who was also looking at the potential women and telling him of the candidates: one a tall, thin sporty girl with big breasts, drinking vine; one a more classy, serene, focused one, drinking soda and one a more nervous, vehement, energetic, obvious one, drinking whiskey...

Fashion Photography FDW!

I've been back on Facebook for exactly one day and of course because most of my 'friends' have one or other thing to do with photography, and it's March, my blood instantly starts to sizzle with an urge to have sex with Mark and make loads and loads of babies. Those of you who are new to this blog: mark stands for Canon Mark II and babies means stuff like this........























I know everyone says that fashion photography is not art, because, well, it's way too commercial and stuff on it is pretty. Well, I happen to like pretty. I happen to love colour and light. And I happen to think that if I ever got within the ranks of, say, Kirsty Mitchell, that would be fucking art.

An interesting house...

In The Mentalist 4x17 there's an interesting house. I don't normally like things to be too busy in an architecture, forever a sucker for Japanese or Scandinavian Eco chic or places that generally have the sense of spas or temples, but this one was quite impressive. Rarely, but sometimes all that money actually can buy style.

 This is the front exterior. Usually I don't approve of 'glass and concrete' combo, but here the glass is in such a neat wooden frame and the concrete is made to look like pale wood...
 Smallish bedroom, but so homey. And I suppose it's cool to have many things displayed, if there's someone who will dust it all daily.
 Another front exterior. Creepy statue, though.

 Back exterior with the great roof and the pool... Note how the living room opens vastly to the outside, when the day is pretty...
 Interior. Combination of heavy, ugly iron furniture and small, colourful stuff. It actually works amazingly well. And note the detail on the coffee tables. I couldn't stop pausing to awe at them.





The front door... It's all super glassy and must be very see-through at night, but to fix that and achieve privacy, the scapist planted lemon trees all around it, so the house is fully enclosed. Beautiful.

Friday, 9 March 2012

The complicated Pumpkin page



I've been combing through my old manuscripts and recently I got my hands on the original old .indd file of the ‘stories’ picture book… Certain things in it now make a lot more sense and I’ve re-done some of the copies for the background, replacing them with more quality resolution ones… And more color.
            I’ve also thought and re-thought the page that was originally meant to conclude the Pumpkin Prince tale, but was at first thrown out, because it was too golden (whereas the others were dark and dull gray and blue and green.) and decided to put it back. The book is now two pages longer and I will likely get an earful from the printer, but I like this page and if nothing else, it gives me more space for text.
            If these books every see the light of day, the people that I’ve stared at relentlessly while designing these stories all those years ago will think me less a nutter and more a shy artist, haha. Looking back, the boy I did this story and drawings after didn’t look like this at all, but I needed to see him as a haunted, innocent but deeply too old creature, torn out of context by a dragon’s death … In this pic he sees fellow humans again after, oh, say, three or four thousand years…

... And I am not sure why, but this music keep going through my brain while I'm editing... What has the world come to, seriously. Me, listening to Chopin...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FkXapYY660o

Thursday, 8 March 2012