LoL, so here is my latest weird little addiction ...

So a few weeks back, when a colleague asked which of the mass-produced uppest tier watercolours is best, I had to admit I've never been able to afford them to actually try. Well, I certainly can afford them now and if you're gonna sound smart, you may as well do research, right? So, I made a list of paints I would like to try from all the best makers on JAS. As it happens, one of my clients sometimes pays me in parts and so as to make it easier, we do the second bit, usually just a few bucks, via Paypal. The General has long forgotten he has a PayPal, but I haven't. And so it began. First, some testing the waters. Five Daniel Smith halfpans. Not the fullest pans, alright, fine, and I already had a drop of one. But sure. Worth the thrill. Second cleaning-of-the-PayPal stash went for purchasing aluminium paint tubes, for the paint which refuses to work well after it gets too dry. Also two Daniel Smith and one Van Gogh, no biggie. Third turn was to purchase empty halfpans, as I genuinely direly require them and Ali Express is taking literally MONTHS ... and also three Daniel Smith and some random Japanese provider I kinda though makes interesting hues.
       And in the meanwhile, Schmincke has put out this oddly delicious, heavily granulating dual-colour special edition, which I wasn't going to bother with too much, as often you get the exact same effect if you just mix their existing two paints together, but then it got totally sold out and I began to freak out.
       They ought to be on sale until 7.8., and on 8.8. they are said to return to stock. But I went online to check another name on my list - mainly because it turned out Daniel Smith uses some of the exact same pigments from the exact same Ali Express store as I have. That much about that. - and the site kept kicking me to a Russian version of itself. I bothered clicking 'translate to English' a few times, then just winged it in my best rudimentary Russian. And on that version, the curious Schmincke duals were still available. Still? Again? Already? And in the panic, I straight out started clicking them and bought them, without having logged in. Thus no buyer's points, no tracking number, no record, nothing.
      Shit. I felt rather 'had this one coming' mini slaps. Because of course the PayPal was cleared, whether the paints were available or not. Not to mention I have no idea which ones I clicked. I click them because they are pretty! I don't know their names!
      After a few hours, I was lonely and needed a friend so, of all people, I ask the General if I may confess a bit of a blunder. I tell him I've been skimming my sales and spending money on other people's watercolours, almost all of which hitherto have proven equal or lesser to mine. (I'm not being pompous, pure pigment is pure pigment. They either do the same recipe or they don't.) He listens and, as per my request, doesn't judge. Then he clicks on his comp and says I have mail: this receipt? You do realise PayPal informs me of all activity and sends me links to purchases from the stores?

 .... Fucking Hermes. I'm gonna kick his nuts through his nose next time I see him. 

R.I.P. Tarci

Today was a very nice day, even though it was the last for some. One of our coolest family dogs passed and she will be missed and remembered forever. My, that crazy creature had the personality and heart of a any human, perhaps even more so. She was an old soul and her passing came quickly - she was fine two days ago, then not so fine yesterday and today, from the early hours when we got there to work, she just lay on the side of the porch, watching us, unable to move. I got her a blankie and dad put a chair next to her and kept trying to feed and water her, but she didn't seem interested. Hard to explain what she looked like. She actually looked thankful. As if: today is going to be a wonderful day. I could not wish for a better last day. 

     There are hundreds funny stories regarding her. G loved her. In fact I thnk we spoke of this a few days and ago and he always pretends not to be fazed by passing, as if it is the most natural part of life. Well, once the news came, he was rather shaken. He said he thought she was just having a bad day. Did you not look at her, I said. I knew immediately. She looked more calm and serene than ever.

      Dad, of course, is being complicated, saying: we've agreed to go together and so on ... He's always had that attitude towards his dogs, somehow refusing to accept the fact 13 years is a venerable age for a Rottweiler. He claimed she was perfectly spry three days ago, when the bees got to her again (ordinarily she had very bad hips and could not walk much anymore, but she was far too brave when it came to bees.) We all came together today to spray the vineyard, and sis covered the barbecue, mum made puff pastry, it was wonderfully sunny and playful and I spent the day moving kindle wood from point A to point B until I could no longer move my arms. We were only fighting a little, as we usually are, crazy family, and the other dogs were barking and nagging for food. The whole while Tara lay, watching us from the porch, alert and involved. She didn't seem like she was in any kind of distress at all, just as if she can't really get up right now, she'll do it later. But a few hours after we've left, sis called and asked me to make an inquiry with a vet neighbour on whether it's legal to bury the dog on a private estate. It's like the General says: no amount of time is enough for someone you love, but if one's gonna come back, they should come back as my parents's family dog: puff pastry every day, orchards and forests, chasing garden snakes and roe deer (more heart than actual talent) barking at hikers and going on slow short walks with our slow short dad. There could never have been a better life for a doggo, even one with bad hips and one who had a stroke due to poisoning years ago. There could hardly have been a better last day. 

Do NOT have the museum stamina I had at my younger age and I managed to walk into the wrong one today (in my defense, they are on the same floor and the girl at the desk pointed me on the wrong side.) Not that I am complaining. It just took a little bit of brain re-adjustment on the spot :D The plan was to go to the Nature history museum, but of the two National Museums, the National history is also in the building. So I walked through humanity's ages first, the Stone age and the metal ages, through old swords and ornate clasps and occasional skeleton from a prominent discovery. The dead freak me out a little and I am not reading the right book for that unease (I like it so much I bought my own copy online in the meanwhile, so that when I get home it'll be an uninterrupted read :D ), no matter how pretty the jewelry on the warrior's bones.
         Later, when I got to the Roman and medieval periods, my attention plummeted, as those are not subject I would care much about these days. I've seen too many 'modern' artifacts, their elaborate glass vases and combs and armors and pottery. The stone age and the early iron age were a lot more fascinating, many of the studies being fairly recent - the discoveries only a few decades old and still coming in.
         The Natural history were collections of prominent noblemen and clergymen, fossils, skeletons of animals and stuffed dioramas, some interactive experience, fish and birds and rocks and old books about them. I have to go there again, possibly with G, because it was wonderful. Small, but just crowded enough. I mean by displays, not people. I only met four other people in the three hours I've been there.
         Lastly, not planning on it, I went to see the exhibition regarding ironworks and modern metallurgy. It was interesting, I was just tired and not focused anymore. The air in those places is problematic. It's warm and moist and stuffy. It can get nauseating after a while. There was such a desire for a cabbage salad once I was rolling home (meaning I was dehydrated), I ate it almost along the way :D Then I passed out and slept for three hours, until it started to rain and got cooler. Last day. I may rape G on the stairway when I run down to meet him tomorrow evening. :P

I've been wondering, and this is probably a good idea for a story, about some dumb shit someone once said, regarding heteronormative monogamy ... Basically, it was about how people aren't really designed to live as couples, but as threes (or more).

Can you just imagine? If it took three to get married and buy a house and raise kids? What a remarkable population control that would be. Think about how impossibly long, if ever, one needs to find a mate in 'normal' circumstances - be it straight, gay, fluid, whatever. It takes A LONG time to find a companion ideal to your needs and expectations. Ye, sure, teenagers mate all over the place and that's probably what keeps the species going, but consider having to fit another piece into an already complicated situation. The odds of BOTH liking the third mate, of 'happily ever after for THREE people, when odds of it for two are grievously unfavorable. 

It would be awesome. I can't wait to watch that go down :D 

Uu. I know why I may be queasy. I'm doing that thing again where I avoid salt, because I don't like it very much ... So I've been eating mostly unsalted stuff for the better part of the week. ... and as we've learned in the previous nausea spell, lack of salt messes with your blood pressure ... Damn it. Try having a cleansing liver diet in this weather :/

Mini panic attack? ... naaaawh.

That was a bit of an odd moment today: I headed out to return some of the professor's books to the library and I was doing fine, had plans to go to a Natural museum and everything ... Passed some cute bookstores, found an interesting monument, mailed G's daily postcard - what I've done a hundred times before. But after coming out of the library, I just wasn't feeling it. I found myself looking down, someone said something to me (not sure what, I had my music in), I felt like I was being stared at, like I had a smoothie spilled down my lap or something. It felt wrong. It felt like I didn't want to be feeling. Hot and foreign and uncomfortable. (I really hope this isn't how G feels when I make him visit new cities.)
     First I checked my phone for weather numbers, if perhaps it was the heat, but no, it said 22 Celsius. I don't get nauseated until at least 30.
     I just knew I wanted to go back 'home', cold-shower, drink some chill Coke, eat some ice-cream, read and write. I promised not to spend any money on books, but that was a porous promise, of course I always buy books :D I bought a thin, humorous one with notes from G's old professor from penal studies, and I fiction translation from a German author Walter Moers. I think I either have one of his books at home or really should, as it sounds right up my alley.

     As it turns out, it was 30'Celsius. My phone was being kind. It was the heat. No need for an anxiety alert. I wasn't being panicky, I was just overheating. (Courtesy of a heat stroke from ages ago.)
    Supposedly the Ethno museum is free from 6 to 9 pm. I'll go check then, and Natural m.tomorrow, when it rains.

Man, there is not enough chocolate and coffee in this world for me not to cry like a little bitch as soon as I am more than a day away from G.

Bit difficult to write perky suspense stories, full of sexy humor and witty banter, if I am slobbering all over the keyboard about how much I miss him, TO him, via Skype.

Pathetic. But honest. Now focus. Literary doomsday isn't going to screw itself up. 

Dear diary

Making  a lot of paint, dear journ-journ, doing a lot of other things, too. I was a ninja yesterday, checking a third of the hives on my own (under supervision, obviously). 

The happenstance with the mean customer shook me up a little, as things do, but as I find myself to be a constant complainer, my complaints have melted in a sea of Karendom. Most of the official responses have been: yuh'huh, get over it.

To inject myself with some optimism, zeal and enthusiasm, I spent a fuckload of money on things G couldn't stop me in time: books, photoshop overlays, a tiny table ventilator, more pigments, some other stuff I can't think of right now - and because of a conversation with a paint-mate, giving in to a year-long temptation, I finally purchased Daniel Smith samples from that shitty Jackson's store, which really hates me. Their coupons never work and their 1% return policy is fucking retarded. The General was not happy; he claims I've long surpassed anything anyone else can create, but I need to know. The conversation was about starter sets of paint - I am a Schmincke girl, but is that because it was the only high-end brand available or because I actually like it? I've never sampled Sennellier or Holbein, so I cannot be objective. I usually but the exact same paints from everyone to decide - often it's olive green, turquoise and burnt sienna. Or some strange violet. But lately, I have no need to, though I do encourage people to build a single-brand and then add onto it by buying unusual, special paints from everyone and everything they can find :D

G's also come up with some good ideas about how to make dual paint. That, and we talked about painted salts, which I've seen but haven't yet figured out how to create. They look mesmerizing.

Without a hitch, on the tailcoats of Batch #5, inspired by debates with lovely customers (the universe's counterbalance to a depressing one), I've created paint for the remaining pans, shards, shells and acorns I still had, creating the ISLAND ARCHAEOLOGIST sets. Some came out rather large and expensive. I'll have to justify that by adding some adorable shit, like that glow-in-the-dark glue and lovely booklets... the interest in those has been heartwarming, though. The singles I listed have mostly been sold within days. 

I'm leaving for the capital in a few days and again, I am not going to take the camera with me, prudent and cautious with it - for no reason at all rather than being slightly paranoid. The initial sales of my paint have been largely due to the promotional material (though the feedback on how I arrange sets and put stories around them has also been very positive.) My old pastry-chef instructor put it extremely well:

    "A visually pleasing cake will attract a customer, a good cake will bring them back."

Don't fuck up. Don't fuck up. Don't fuck up. 

PS The nephews came across a semi-poisonous (venomous) snake, unusual for the region. The barn cat was fighting with it, so they took it to the forest, as all snakes are protected in this country. (Like, seriously, what the fuck is a semi-poisonous snake? Is it fucking venomous or isn't it??) It looks EXACTLY like either of the two semi-deadly ones we have on the regular, but it is said to be harmless to humans. As if you would seriously pause to inspect it THAT closely to establish a difference. "It looks like a rattle-snake, it acts like one and if it gets you, it's not quite as dangerous." Right. Like, fuck no. 

I haven't been slacking, I've actually been quite a good girl: making "Island" series of the paints and the other day I pushed my bike to the 20 miles removed side of the valley to go poach shards and river shells from an old castle ruin. We now know that a) lots of shards there but is paint still vegan if it's in a clamshell? and b) hard to push a bike over field roads after rain. Also much muddy. Mucho muddo. I came back looking as if I had been dragged behind a tractor.

We visited gran today - it was like walking into Level 4 (out of 4) pathogen testing facility. But caretakers helped me load her onto a wheelchair and we took a spin around the park for a little while. She's very old, though I think she liked the experience. It was a bit warm, perhaps. The park is nice, but the rest of the world was hot. 

Visiting some iron-age archaeo sites in the eastern part of the country

"... We will NEVER be slaves! BUT we will BE -- !!"
       "Archaeology explorers?"
       "No, you dumb fucking dweeb. CONQUERORS!"
       "Aw."

Today was 'my' day, so I got to choose where I wanted to spend the Saturday: although Poetovian city museum was at the top of the list, G's ankle is acting up again and making him walk for miles through long castle halls to look at paintings and wares display was not looking up. The second option were a few Iron Age sites - two locations of burial mounts and a contemporary mock village.

I've never seen these locations before, so even though they may not be as exciting as museum visits, and there was a fucktillion of mosquitoes, I've now visited them and can say so. We were following a cute book which describes the sites rather dramatically, so unless someone is a dweeb like me, it may not seem very worth the drive (Looking at you, G and dog.) The first was a Brengova site, a forest-hiding collection of burial mounds just above the highway.

I think only two were properly excavated - one showing the remains from above and another has a bit of a tunnel leading to it. Most of the others have a bit of a dip in the middle, showing the lid has concaved. These were burials of cremated nobility - I'd guess where the highway is today some massive merchant artery once paved and there were prominent settlements all around. While we were driving around the Poetovian plane, there quite a bit of random tiny villages sporting unusually posh architecture. We're talking fifty houses in the middle of nowhere and three have collonade step ways. That's not usual.

The second location was that of the Stone age settlement - mud houses, made of local, handmade elements, and a bit of a bread oven, loom, fish rack and so on. It was not easy to find either, but I'm sure when there's a re-enactment going on it's really cute. From there a camp was supposed to offer for primitive living experience, but I couldn't;t find it. I followed a forest footpath alongside a small river until it met with Mura, my father's homeland river. Mura is certainly a prominent force of nature and I would sit and write a poem then and there, if every blood-sucking insect in the zip code area didn't hone in on me and tried to kill me.

We passed through Lotmerk, a city I don't think I've ever paid attention to before. It was surprisingly modern and vast. I mean the square, the rest was brief and tiny and their only hotel was long closed. There will be a fantasy&horror movie festival called Grossman there in a week or so. We had good coffee and some ice-cream.

The last stop was beneath the Poetovian Mountain (on top of which a really oversized church sits), a seemingly useless bunker, with some hints of horsemen-class burial mounts, sleeping forlorn in the midst of fields. We made out a little, finished some of our food and decided to drive home - it was almost four in the afternoon and it was enough for one day. the next trip will have more to do with Celtic or Illyrian culture. I haven't been to Rifnik in 15 or more years, and I drive by that damn hill every day.

An interesting conversation to be had, for sure

There's a moment. I bump his chest with my head and he shakes my shoulder, paternally-like, but then starts to touch my face. My smile fades. I hold his hand and kiss it. "In another life," I say, "sure."
         "Yes. I think so, too."
         "Though I wouldn't think I am your type."
         "I didn't know people like you existed."

Some poetry

Upon a wishing star: I wish he wishes me

I would love nothing more than to watch 
that beautiful body sleep
Those soft feet twitch in the
dreamscape footwork
Every range familiar, every reach
Each shape, each twitch
But I have fireflies to count
And rutting roe deer to trust
they know what they're doing
Forest cobwebs to repair before dew
And that strange red star on the
Southern sky, what is that? I have to
investigate that.

- - - - 

Rather shirtless
in a rather tiny valley
My air-light sense of self, my bike
(mud-caked)
And my good ear are basking 
in bird song
Forest fog is all but gone
And the dirt road is getting dusty
Going back will be a pain
but for now, for the bees and flawless sky
I am bresingary.  

Ordering some more paint

With all that's been going on, between the good shop experience and the bad shop experience - and still not being able to draw - I decided to order more supplies and just continue Batch 5 a little while longer. Perhaps skipping the pause altogether and dragging it into August - but that is ages away.

I have so many new ideas. I guess a little bit of danger is good for the heart. 

Today was too hot for a bike, but it was too beautiful an opportunity to miss

The boys offed early morning to fix the ladders on some of the watch posts, and I hopped on a bike earlier still, riding up and down tiny valleys in hopes of running into them. (No signal, so no shared locations.) I did find them eventually, thanks to the Huntsman's car which you can spot from a space station. They moved around a bit, I followed them a little, then we went separate ways as it was nearing noon and the sun was starting to no-joke. The ride back was .... fuck I was tired. Okay, so I am not in a long-range shape and it WAS hot, but luckily the road is always going to the river one way or another, so it is always an invisible decline I was able to slide, even though I had to pause twice, in a thick chase, to "check on my social media" - biker's equivalent of the runner's tying their shoes.

My next destination is the castle ruin we visited a few weeks ago, so I can look for some old pottery shards. I should probably start a lot earlier, though. It's twice the length. Hm...