16.12.08
12.11.08
Drumdrumdrumdrumdurum! d"urum
Feed the birds tuppence a bag. Feed them with SUPER TUESDAY AND WEDNESDAY DOMINOS PIZZA ONLY 7.99 !!! ducros BBQ says the Moulin is hot so throw some pepper into you 30ml. Philips is ANE at the Parfun but don't worry you can always go to planetparfum.eu . EU??
Had to get that out of my system. Sorry. Its just that when you live on your own in a big city, the head gets cluttered with apartment clutter and with outside kids screaming and garbage truck clutter.
Seriously though, the garbage trucks come by every day. The city isn't even all that clean. i mean relatively speaking, but it'll always be a dirty grimey city. Its been so long since I've been wanting to write. Its been like 6 monthes nearly!! (And I still don't know how to write monthes!)
Live in an apartment where the windows are tinted so people do their hair in the window. Because they can't see us, silly little buggers staring right bac k at them. Need to make photo montage of these people. Need to make every art project that goes through my head. So many these days! Its good its really good. more ideas more motivation. Yet now, less time. Its the burden of being in a creative environment where you are doing stuff. See, you are doing stuff, so you are occupied when instead you want to expell these genius ideas.
I wanna:
Make a photo montage of the people who do their hair in the window
Take photos of inanimate (metal/building/city-stuff) that looks like faces
Life sized shoebox world thingg
cool found object statues
make vertical pop up
I guess that isn't all that much... but ideas are good. Most of my recent ideas for school are like a macabre graphic novelist but the ideas above are for children, or good natured. I think art school makes me more goth minded.
All I think and do and eat these days is art school. Even when I'm talking to someone I'm thinking how should i be painting their face, the shadows in their nostrils and their pupils? Should i mix prussian blue and crimson, or defy the teacher and buy some black instead. Thrilling. i know. But this is my life, so I've got to get excited about it. and art school is way more exciting than writing stupid religion essays or doing some math equation.
the apartment is such a stupid mess. its like should I invest the hour in cleaning it up just to watch it degrade in the following 5 hours, or just watch it breath and live its chaos in a more natural symbiosis.
I was going to write something beautiful about the city or about the weather. but no. no time for looking up at the sky and dreaming. My mind is a busy drum.
Anyways, next time I might think something poetic like those boards in the trainstation that go shf shf shf shf shf shf changing the places and the times for the trains to depart. Someone lying on that board stretching out and curling back to sleep when it stops flipping.
Goodnight and farewell
Had to get that out of my system. Sorry. Its just that when you live on your own in a big city, the head gets cluttered with apartment clutter and with outside kids screaming and garbage truck clutter.
Seriously though, the garbage trucks come by every day. The city isn't even all that clean. i mean relatively speaking, but it'll always be a dirty grimey city. Its been so long since I've been wanting to write. Its been like 6 monthes nearly!! (And I still don't know how to write monthes!)
Live in an apartment where the windows are tinted so people do their hair in the window. Because they can't see us, silly little buggers staring right bac k at them. Need to make photo montage of these people. Need to make every art project that goes through my head. So many these days! Its good its really good. more ideas more motivation. Yet now, less time. Its the burden of being in a creative environment where you are doing stuff. See, you are doing stuff, so you are occupied when instead you want to expell these genius ideas.
I wanna:
Make a photo montage of the people who do their hair in the window
Take photos of inanimate (metal/building/city-stuff) that looks like faces
Life sized shoebox world thingg
cool found object statues
make vertical pop up
I guess that isn't all that much... but ideas are good. Most of my recent ideas for school are like a macabre graphic novelist but the ideas above are for children, or good natured. I think art school makes me more goth minded.
All I think and do and eat these days is art school. Even when I'm talking to someone I'm thinking how should i be painting their face, the shadows in their nostrils and their pupils? Should i mix prussian blue and crimson, or defy the teacher and buy some black instead. Thrilling. i know. But this is my life, so I've got to get excited about it. and art school is way more exciting than writing stupid religion essays or doing some math equation.
the apartment is such a stupid mess. its like should I invest the hour in cleaning it up just to watch it degrade in the following 5 hours, or just watch it breath and live its chaos in a more natural symbiosis.
I was going to write something beautiful about the city or about the weather. but no. no time for looking up at the sky and dreaming. My mind is a busy drum.
Anyways, next time I might think something poetic like those boards in the trainstation that go shf shf shf shf shf shf changing the places and the times for the trains to depart. Someone lying on that board stretching out and curling back to sleep when it stops flipping.
Goodnight and farewell
13.5.08
Art Influences
Dr Suess
The Neverhood
Some girl in highschool
Mad Magazine
Greek Mythology
Fairies
Full Moon Soup
Drawings in women's magazines
Real life situations
Japanese Calligraphy
Any Claymation
The Neverhood
Some girl in highschool
Mad Magazine
Greek Mythology
Fairies
Full Moon Soup
Drawings in women's magazines
Real life situations
Japanese Calligraphy
Any Claymation
I enjoy
French and Italian cheese,comic books that tell you something new about life in an amusing way,movies that are like hard but solvable equations,being in class and laughing deliriously,being calm,finding ways of being calm,enjoying health food, having fun doing sports (rare), turning off the TV,100s of birds tweeting forth dawn,a printer that works fast, beautiful antiques, dreaming of decorating a dream home, small gardens, eating herbs from your own garden, making people laugh or think with my drawings, being clean, reading a popcorn book, reading a classic on vacation, dreaming about vacation, smelling of shampoo, people watching, laughing about your own joke, breathing out deeply even if you don't like your tummy, dogs,cats,birds,barefoot walking, feeling pretty, my birthday, barcelona, australia, warm seas, waves, letting sand run through your hand, comfortable jeans, pretending to be from greek mythology
25.4.08
The fence.
"Did you really think that was going to work??" hinnied the horse.
"It's up! It's standing! Why are you being so contradictive??"spouted the old man with furrowed brow.
"You just put this thing here because you don't love me anymore" hoarsly quipped the mare.
"Its not a question of emotions, its a purely practical matter. Without a fence havoc will arise, and personal boundaries will be infringed on. Here, read this" impatiently a pamphlet swopped hands.
"Ahaaa, ok now I get it"
Nodded horse sarcasticly.
"You know" said the latter, "I'm think of getting in the films again".
Shut up.
The horse couldn't tell who said that so he concentrated himself on the fence again.
"Couldn't you have painted it a prettier color?" he nagged
"Look I painted it aubergine, it don't get any fancier than that" grumped the grump
"Hmm"
Horse's thoughts wondered again"If you had seen me in that 1976 flick with Clint, you wouldn't have thought so lightly about what color this fence was... Clint was such a darling"
The grass shuddered slightly, the grumpy mans clothes lifted a little and a couple of the horse's tail hairs tickled his hind leg.
Creek. Crak.
The Grump turned around to see his lifelong buddy step outside onto the front porch of their hillside abode.
The buddy's Christian name was Harry, and though he liked the sound of it, he never really understood why he couldn't just have been called Harold.
He had the time he had the time to change, he didn't want to change but now that he thought he was going to he didn't think that it wouldn't happen.
He walked down the steps, with mere throws of his legs and nestled his worn shoes into the inviting soil.
Hands casually in his wide pockets he sighed his way over to the unlikely pair.
"Boys, I can hear you two hollerin' from the back room, keep it down will ya now?"
He realised he could have been the type of guy to have just shouted it from the frontdoor, but then concluded that he liked being a thorough man. Its not often one encounters a soul willing to go all the way in an act. Someone who knows that they will be there from start to finish. Harry knew what he wanted: quiet and his books.
One wouldn't consider a friend of a grumpy old man as a literature afficionado, but Harry was one. He had a collection of dusty library books and he traded them in regularly for a new ones. He knew he might never read them all, but he thought he might atleast be consistent with his thoroughness.
He also liked old French movies. Though he had no idea what they were saying, he liked the statuesque faces the actors made after their twittering monologues dotted a comical stream of oboe flutters.
"I can't even concentrate on the last couplet of King Lear" he added to emphasise the intrusion of the unwanted volumes.
"Harry, you old fool, why do you have to insist on complaining about everything? We were just discussing this new fence I most generously put up last night while you two lazy ones had long hit the sack" retorted the grump.
"Yes, we were discussing the pros and cons of my film career as well" insisted the animal, but with little effect.
"Fence? Ah. An unsightly blemish on our pasture"Harold concluded and walked back, as he had out, with hands lost in pockets.
"Blemish?? This is not miss Arizona's face we're having to upkeep here Harry, its pure and simple divisions...Harry?? HARRY!".
His neck had at this point stretched much further than a common tortoise and realising this himself he slowly sunk back into his checkered blouse, turning his attention back to a more resonable opponent. The horse.
The grumpy man had not always been dubbed as such, he actually, as everyone else we hope, had been given a name by his mother. Paul found sooner and not much later in his life that being termed "The Grump" was much more satisfying than being called Paulie, Paulo, Paulkins or any other varient of the kind.
The reason he had become an noun-turned-adjective, was because he was indeed rather grumpy most of the time. This doesn't mean he wasn't a lot of fun to hang around with, it only means that he was often rather annoyed by it.
The grump blankly stared at his hairy opponent. He suddenly had the urge to kiss the spot right between the creature's eyes but of course abstained himself. The cloud spotted sun intermittantly made that very spot shine like silk only known by the original weaver's fingers.
He imagined the horse made up of crosshatched electrical wires and then the creator delicately adding one silk hair after another upon this celestial skeleton.
"Your smile reminds me of this girl I once knew in juvie" mentioned the celestial skeleton.
Realising his drole daydream, the grump snapped out of it and focused on the task at hand.
What task? The fence was built. End of story.
The grump decided that if he walked away all would be solved. He swung his shoulder around and headed off to his house.
"Hold on a minute? And the fence? It stays here? Long and ugly and and in the way?".
Horse's questions tried to catch up with the grump but were too slow.
"Turn to channel 3, Les coeurs d'un profondeur is on. Its in french and you won't understand it, but it is one of my favourites and it will make you understand about the fence,"wisdomed the grump as his hands pushed his legs to get up the porch steps.
"How do you know that?" questioned the still unsatisfied silken horse.
"I will hide it from you no longer. We can now share things of love, as a master never could and a neighbor only will"
There was once a fence that stretched miles into the distance. Two old men lived on one side of the fence and a horse on the other. They were good neighbors.
"It's up! It's standing! Why are you being so contradictive??"spouted the old man with furrowed brow.
"You just put this thing here because you don't love me anymore" hoarsly quipped the mare.
"Its not a question of emotions, its a purely practical matter. Without a fence havoc will arise, and personal boundaries will be infringed on. Here, read this" impatiently a pamphlet swopped hands.
"Ahaaa, ok now I get it"
Nodded horse sarcasticly.
"You know" said the latter, "I'm think of getting in the films again".
Shut up.
The horse couldn't tell who said that so he concentrated himself on the fence again.
"Couldn't you have painted it a prettier color?" he nagged
"Look I painted it aubergine, it don't get any fancier than that" grumped the grump
"Hmm"
Horse's thoughts wondered again"If you had seen me in that 1976 flick with Clint, you wouldn't have thought so lightly about what color this fence was... Clint was such a darling"
The grass shuddered slightly, the grumpy mans clothes lifted a little and a couple of the horse's tail hairs tickled his hind leg.
Creek. Crak.
The Grump turned around to see his lifelong buddy step outside onto the front porch of their hillside abode.
The buddy's Christian name was Harry, and though he liked the sound of it, he never really understood why he couldn't just have been called Harold.
He had the time he had the time to change, he didn't want to change but now that he thought he was going to he didn't think that it wouldn't happen.
He walked down the steps, with mere throws of his legs and nestled his worn shoes into the inviting soil.
Hands casually in his wide pockets he sighed his way over to the unlikely pair.
"Boys, I can hear you two hollerin' from the back room, keep it down will ya now?"
He realised he could have been the type of guy to have just shouted it from the frontdoor, but then concluded that he liked being a thorough man. Its not often one encounters a soul willing to go all the way in an act. Someone who knows that they will be there from start to finish. Harry knew what he wanted: quiet and his books.
One wouldn't consider a friend of a grumpy old man as a literature afficionado, but Harry was one. He had a collection of dusty library books and he traded them in regularly for a new ones. He knew he might never read them all, but he thought he might atleast be consistent with his thoroughness.
He also liked old French movies. Though he had no idea what they were saying, he liked the statuesque faces the actors made after their twittering monologues dotted a comical stream of oboe flutters.
"I can't even concentrate on the last couplet of King Lear" he added to emphasise the intrusion of the unwanted volumes.
"Harry, you old fool, why do you have to insist on complaining about everything? We were just discussing this new fence I most generously put up last night while you two lazy ones had long hit the sack" retorted the grump.
"Yes, we were discussing the pros and cons of my film career as well" insisted the animal, but with little effect.
"Fence? Ah. An unsightly blemish on our pasture"Harold concluded and walked back, as he had out, with hands lost in pockets.
"Blemish?? This is not miss Arizona's face we're having to upkeep here Harry, its pure and simple divisions...Harry?? HARRY!".
His neck had at this point stretched much further than a common tortoise and realising this himself he slowly sunk back into his checkered blouse, turning his attention back to a more resonable opponent. The horse.
The grumpy man had not always been dubbed as such, he actually, as everyone else we hope, had been given a name by his mother. Paul found sooner and not much later in his life that being termed "The Grump" was much more satisfying than being called Paulie, Paulo, Paulkins or any other varient of the kind.
The reason he had become an noun-turned-adjective, was because he was indeed rather grumpy most of the time. This doesn't mean he wasn't a lot of fun to hang around with, it only means that he was often rather annoyed by it.
The grump blankly stared at his hairy opponent. He suddenly had the urge to kiss the spot right between the creature's eyes but of course abstained himself. The cloud spotted sun intermittantly made that very spot shine like silk only known by the original weaver's fingers.
He imagined the horse made up of crosshatched electrical wires and then the creator delicately adding one silk hair after another upon this celestial skeleton.
"Your smile reminds me of this girl I once knew in juvie" mentioned the celestial skeleton.
Realising his drole daydream, the grump snapped out of it and focused on the task at hand.
What task? The fence was built. End of story.
The grump decided that if he walked away all would be solved. He swung his shoulder around and headed off to his house.
"Hold on a minute? And the fence? It stays here? Long and ugly and and in the way?".
Horse's questions tried to catch up with the grump but were too slow.
"Turn to channel 3, Les coeurs d'un profondeur is on. Its in french and you won't understand it, but it is one of my favourites and it will make you understand about the fence,"wisdomed the grump as his hands pushed his legs to get up the porch steps.
"How do you know that?" questioned the still unsatisfied silken horse.
"I will hide it from you no longer. We can now share things of love, as a master never could and a neighbor only will"
There was once a fence that stretched miles into the distance. Two old men lived on one side of the fence and a horse on the other. They were good neighbors.
28.3.08
Curiousities found in a 10th grade agenda
-Is your name Fred? Can I call you Fred?
-When I cross the road I feel like I'm in Australia
-Hello I cam from Sweden
- Is that a blague? Or are you rigoling?
-Ich bin der naked goat wo liebt blaue Pumpernickles, aer nur mit Schnitzelsause
-What's brown and sticky? Nigeria in glue?Poo? Nooo my friends - A STICK!
-And then they bargain bought...their lives
-Do you have a 5ft plastic chickon in your head?
- "If i hd a horse I'd horse whip you"
-Don't play stupid with me, I'm better at it :D
-We're not retreating! We're advancing in another direction
-If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence you tried.
-Hah! you didn't get a , because it says you're a retard (en retard)
-When I cross the road I feel like I'm in Australia
-Hello I cam from Sweden
- Is that a blague? Or are you rigoling?
-Ich bin der naked goat wo liebt blaue Pumpernickles, aer nur mit Schnitzelsause
-What's brown and sticky? Nigeria in glue?Poo? Nooo my friends - A STICK!
-And then they bargain bought...their lives
-Do you have a 5ft plastic chickon in your head?
- "If i hd a horse I'd horse whip you"
-Don't play stupid with me, I'm better at it :D
-We're not retreating! We're advancing in another direction
-If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence you tried.
-Hah! you didn't get a , because it says you're a retard (en retard)
20.3.08
19.3.08
Du-plo-cunt /n.[n. doo-plo-kuhnt]
-noun Slang: Vulgar
Someone, usually female, who is both immature (duplo blocks), two faced (double in Portuguese) and a total bitch (cunt).
Someone, usually female, who is both immature (duplo blocks), two faced (double in Portuguese) and a total bitch (cunt).
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