Winter veil II.

Winter veil

Slowly and surely the year is coming to a close. I'm going to try to finish the book until the end and this would mean solid 15 days of time, but as it's December, cold and gray as it may be (still no snow :( ) I will be lucky to get one day of real productivity out of it. On the down side, as far as the year is concerned, we still have debt to some of our associates - but not nearly as much as we could if we failed alltogether - and on the plus side, despite the fact in my oppinion the pace is painstakingly slow and the spread of the fame depressingly shy, we are happy and fat. Oh, and we have to go on a diet because we are too happy and fat. :p

Though I feel bothered, at times, everyone wanting me to handle everything about this business (though better now that a little tear has been shed), I suck my inspiration from Zemotion and have bad dreams about the little camera of my sister's.. I SO need my own. So much. I got the idea to draw a painting for the new library to donate it, but the moment I wanted to get it out of my system, that jerk from te travel agency called said he's back and he wants me to return to work on his stuff. I am not taking any more comissions till the end of the year. No, I am not giving discouts on my work either. No, I don't think the cards the too expensive - take a look at the ones that cost one third of the price, feel the paper, see the motif.. No, I don't want to go to another exhibition opening and no, I don't care for praise. Praise doesn't pay the bills. And no, I don't want to have a drink with some guy just because he knows people who have galleries in a slightly bigger town. I PAINT. That is what I want to do. If I have so much of everything else in my life, then I cannot see what i'm supposed to be painting and I feel blind altogether. Let others manage me. Or perhaps if they're so clever, let THEM paint and I'll manage them.

Slaughter and snowflakes (not for the weak of tummy)

Winter is definitely here. If not by date or snowfall, it is here by slaughter. The time has come to slay the oinking pink things and turn them into yummy food.

              Personally I have never witnessed a slaughter before. Last year I came close, as I was asked to help the women with the preparations, but I was terrified. My dad once had three hogs he loved immensely, called Bonifacij, Pankracij and Servacij  and when the time came to slay them, he cried and wouldn't come from behind the shed. Of course, once it was done and it began to less resemble a living thing that stared at you when you gave it apples, the game was back on. Funny thing that my city slicker aristocrat of a mother has absolutely no problem assisting the slay.

 

Squeamish as I may be, I am also curious. So, I was there for th whole thing for the first time. And didn't throw up once!

            The first few moments are kind of disturbing, with the large men dragging the poor scared thing out and when the pig sat down confused in all the fuss, what did she do to be treated so, but then it was over rather quickly. The professional butcher shot it in the head to stun it with a stun gun and then slit the throat, they intercepted the blood and then waited out for the spasms to stop. When the pig's snout gets all bluish and pulled back, it's done for, but that by no means means it's lying still. Especially when they poured water on it to start cleaning it, it kicked and twisted like nothing. It's prudent to stay away at the time, as the pointy hoofs can kick through your leg like nothing.

            Then they covered it in an amberish flour and scrapped the hairs clean off. What was left was a flawless corpse of a pig on a ladder, steaming in the winter with snowflakes slowly drifting down.

I must say, the old butcher guy, nothing special by the look of him, was truly skilled. He did everything quickly, smoothly, almost without any mess and entirely without ceremony. Last year I had to continouosly bring hot tea to the men and was sick and trembling, but this time it wasn't so cold and I was standing right next to them. The amazing bit was I've never actually inspected the insides of a living thing and pig's anatomy is very similar to human's. The lung and heart, covered in coagulated black blood are the same size, the massive lungs and the fillet-like spleen are similar, the imoressive chest cavity and the mileage of intestine. From an academic perspective it was extremely revealing. I saw the muscles on a severed corpse still twitch from discharge. And the calming factor was - on a farm not a single thing goes to waste. Not blood, not head, not tail, nothing. Even the womb was tossed onto the tree for birds to eat. Everything was cleaned, cooled and stored.

I have several REALLY gory pics, but they seem odd now - yesterday it was just a process.  Now I can place all the roast material when people purchase it.

        In the end they made sausages - LOTS of sausages. Some were meaty and greasy and others were bloody and ricey. The former are smoked and can be eaten dry and some people love them. Once when I walked all day in the mountains and finally reached a farm, the house mistress made me one of those and it was the best thing I've ever eaten - I was SO hungry.

         It was the longest day in a while and we slept for something like 10 hours straight before I realized we've overslept everything and he muttered he took a day off today. So I'm off to bed again :p

 

 

 

Man, my tummy aches so much I am exhausted!

Sis and BF joined Piček & moi in a game of Yahtzee and we were laughing so hard, I nigh peed myself. And it's not just the faces or comments we were making, the looks we gave one another or ridiculous chances we had, but it got so far that we were actually laughing at each-other for laughing the way we did. Which leads nowhere! I am still chuckling - albeit the really annoying pain. But that was not the worst bit.. Worst bit was when I challenged Piček to a drop of poker (four of a kind) and began to take a sip of coke. He smacked the cup down and got 4 sixes in the first go and I choked on a coke so badly, I could nor inhale nor exhale, only continue to drown in coke, which was burning through my nose and felt like it's coming out with my tears. Not the worst death imaginable, drowning in a sip of coke, everything else darkness and people trying to pat you and pat the spurted splashes of coke all over the desk in front of you... But then the trouble started, because afterwards, whenever I tried to take another sip, I started laughing like a village idiot and after two hours was really really thirsty, unable to drink. No other glass or bottle or straw helped. I was beginning to get a headache from draught (we consta ate chips and smokies, so our kidneys were starting to complain).. God, that was so ridiculous.

Of course Piček, who played this thorough the entire high-school pwned the thing and my sis or I can't count single-digit numbers, so the scores remain a mystery (though it's safe to assume Piček won every time).. 

Anyhoo... I reek of cigarettes and can barelly sit up straight from the musclefieber... So cool. So cool.

I always get this odd tension in my chest when I want something. It's pure passion and I am fully aware that any kind of craving for earthly possessions is a testament to my vanity. Well fuck it. There are expensive things I want and once I see that something I like has a better, more costly and better packed alternative, I want THAT. I COULD settle for any kind of watercolor pencils - the ones I have are actually quite great, all 8 of them. But Faber-Castell has larger sets and then it has the Albrecht Dürer wooden box 120 pensils set and it costs way more than I can afford. It is the costliest one I could find. the tension in the chest alone is enough to inspire me to draw a whole book. Believe me. It happens this way. It is ambition, only I don't quite know that yet, because I never thought of it as before. I want it, so i'm going to do things to get it and then I am going to do things to redeem myself. Good thing I'm a painter, not a religious fanatic, eh?

Rejected travel agency commission. Hehe, they said the shepherd with sheep might set off the wrong idea.  Pity, I quite liked this one :)

I have a hard-on for the Faber-Castell Albrecht Dürer Box of 12o watercolor pencils... And may have a plot to get my hands on one :p

Ugh, Zemotion just thanked me for a comment on her autoportrait...

     ... I do not tremble before royalty, but I do tremble before her.

:D