Nyt on yö. Minä kuljen yksin tyhjiä katuja. En tiedä, mihin olen menossa, hyvä kun tiedän mistä olen tulossa, ja ruumiissani soi tuhat kaunista ja voimakasta sävelmää, minun koko menneisyyteni, ja silmissäni loistavat tuhannen ihmisen silmät, silmien takana tuntemattomuus, tätä naista ei tunne kukaan, se ei ole vielä täysin syntynytkään, ei kukaan tiedä mitä se on tulevaisuudessa.
- Mirka Lattunen
El a întins spre mine o frunză ca o mână cu degete. Eu am întins spre el o mână ca o frunză cu dinţi. El a întins spre mine o ramură ca un braţ. Eu am întins spre el braţul ca o ramură. El schi-a înclinat spre mine trunchiul ca un umăr. Eu mi-am înclinat spre el umărul ca un trunchi noduros. Auzeam cum se încetineşte sângele meu suind ca seva. Eu am trecut prin el. El a trecut prin mine. Eu am rămas un pom singur. El un om singur
- Nichita Stănescu
Kunst ist nicht ein Spiegel, den man der Wirklichkeit vorhält, sondern ein Hammer, mit dem man sie gestaltet.
- Karl Marx
The Hermit’s Song
A hiding tuft, a green-barked yew tree Is my roof, While nearby a great oak tree keeps me Tempest-proof.
I can pick my fruit from an apple Like an Inn, Or can fill my fist where hazels Shut me in.
A clear well beside me offers Best of drink, And there glows a bed of cresses Near its brink.
Pigs and Goats, the friendliest neighbours, Nestle near, Wild swine come, or broods of badgers, Grazing deer.
All the gentry of the county Come to call! And the foxes come behind them, Best of all.
To what meals the woods invite me All about! There are water, herbs and cresses, Salmon, trout.
A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey Are my meat, Heathberries and Whortleberries For a sweet.
All that one could ask for comfort Round me grows, There are hips and haws and strawberries, Nuts and sloes.
And when summer spreads its mantle What a sight! Marjoram and leeks and pignuts, Juicy, bright.
Dainty redbreasts briskly forage Every bush Round and round my hut there flutter Shallow, thrush.
Bees and beetles, music-makers, Croon and strum; Geese pass over, duck in autumn, Dark streams hum.
Angry wren, officious linnet And black-cap, All industrious, and the woodpecker’s Sturdy tap.
From the sea the gulls and herons Flutter in, While in upland heather rises The grey hen.
In the year’s most brilliant weather Heifers low Through green fields, not driven nor beaten, Tranquil, slow.
In wreathed boughs the wind is whispering, Skies are blue, Swans call, river water falling Is calling too.
A moment ago, I suddenly heard a noise from inside my computer. It could have resembled a small explosion. It could also have resembled what I always imagine a gun with a silencer to sound like when it goes "PAK!" in the comic books (the sound is from the hammer). In any case, I prepared for the worst.
I shut down my computer and opened the side. At first, I could see nothing wrong, except this little piece of plastic (about 1 cm wide) on the floor:
I looked around some more, until I realised one of the straps holding the cooler in place was hanging loose.
Hmm ... I wonder if I have a guarantee on that one. I had to exchange the original cooler for this one, because it made a terrible noise, and I kept the paperwork for it ... except it's all in my basement in Kävlinge.
I guess it could also help if I, hrm, removed the dust from the computer's inside a bit more often ... this is an old and very dusty apartment.
I'm pretty much straightedge in practise, so all drugs have a heavy impact on me. Yesterday I couldn't sleep, because I had tea with Ainur. (It could also have something to do with the fact that I was so excited about my new plans to stay in this apartment even after Mihai leaves, because it would be just about SEK500 more expensive than my apartment in Kävlinge, anyway, and when you add the stress of commuting by unreliable trains etc., it's so much worth it ... I can easily compensate for the 500 crowns by not buying any ready-made food, including bread, or clothes. I found a pair of tweed pants in the trash last week, so my new fall wardrobe is all set. :oD)
Anyway, I tried without any too big success to convince Ainur to have one of the characters in the comic she's working on have vitiligo. The character is supposed to be partly based on Mitsu, so I just couldn't see why she should miss this opportunity. Not just because she could make the character look even more like Mitsu, give people with vitiligo a positive role model and reduce the stigmatizing of the condition. But the main reason is that vitiligo looks really cool! Especially on black people.
More information about vitiligo can be found at zebracorn.com. In India, according to this article, vitiligo (n.b. - in *women*) is so stigmatized that people with even the slightest trace of it aren't considered suitable for marriage.
Mum has vitiligo, and it looks really kickass. She has a pigment-less spot on her foot that looks like a mouse, and I've been trying to convince her to tattoo the contours of a mouse or rat on it to emphasize it.
Mitsu looks like she has some kind of vitiligo. Most dogs seem to have spotted black and white skin, and it's funny how the spots in the fur are different from the spots on the skin. Sergei's skin looks like it has some kind of seasonal vitiligo - in the winter, the parts that are least exposed to the sun become pink, but they magically turn black again in the summer after some sunbathing.
I took my camera with me to work, in case I'd meet some hedgehogs that wouldn't mind posing for me. No hedgehogs showed themselves, though, but after work I went biking around a bit, looking for views to practise my photography on.
This is an old wooden house in a neighbourhood not far from where I live. I sometimes bike past it on my way to a supermarket, and I've always admired it. I was going to take pictures of it for a long time now, and today, when I finally made it there, I realised it's being torn down.
I finally got my camera today. I ordered it last week, but the shop by mistake sent it to my billing address in Kävlinge, instead of to my shipping address in Lund, so it took a while before I got the slip.
I'm so used to my Zenit and Mihai's Nikon D70 that this little thing feels like a toy, and I can't quite believe (yet) that it actually can make decent pictures.
Today, while trying to learn how to use it, I was mostly just making silly pictures of myself.
Otherwise, the day was really weird. As mentioned, I had to go to Kävlinge. I went there by bus, but when I wanted to go back home, there weren't any buses until an hour or so later, so I decided to hitchhike. I went to the usual street where I've always hitched rides from Kävlinge to Lund, and started sticking my thumb out. It's never easy to get a ride there, partly because the place where I start is still inside town, and most people aren't actually going to Lund, and partly because people don't *want* to pick up any hitchhikers.
So, guess who the only person was who stopped before I had walked all the way up to the motorway was? Well, it was a guy I was about 90% sure I had already encountered.
Last November, when I was going to a hospital in Lund to have a lump in my boob examined, the train I was going to take was cancelled, and I would miss my appointment, unless I could make it there some other way. I went to stand by the roadside for 30-46 minutes, until this one guy finally stopped his car. He said he could take me to Lund, so I got in. Then he said that he wasn't actually going there originally, but ... and then he mumbled something I had to ask him to repeat several times until I finally understood what he was saying: "I'll drive you if you ... massage me ... *here*." I stared at him in disgust, told him that he must be completely insane, and got out. I gave him the finger when he drove away, while frustratedly wishing I had castrated him, written down his number plate, or at least kicked in one of the back lights on his car ... I didn't feel like hitchhiking anymore, so I went home and called the hospital. And it was no problem for me to come an hour or two later.
Back to the future. I was standing in about the same spot, and this guy stopped his car. When I saw him I instantly thought I recognised him - dirty-brown hair, metal frame glasses, moustache, pot-belly, red face, in a dark grey car, somehow reminding a bit of the dad in the Belgian film La Promesse (played by Olivier Gourmet) - and when he asked where I was going, I quickly answered, "To Lund - but I'm not going with you! Good-BYE!" He just said "oh, I see", looking a bit confused, and drove off. (And I forgot about the number plate again ... though I'm actually only *90*% sure it was the same guy.)
Well, I kept on trying to hitch a ride, and worked my way all the way to the motorway. There, two (!) buses on their way to Lund passed me by (the railroad between Lund and Kävlinge is closed over the summer, and there's always one or two buses as replacement for every train), and I hated myself for not staying at the station and waiting for a damn bus. I had already almost given up when a completely nice and decent young man in a turquoise VW Polo (much like the one of my arts teacher in Urjala) suddenly stopped and gave me a ride to Lund.
As for this morning, the delivery of Sydsvenskan (which constitutes about 130 of the 150-160 newspapers and magazines I distribute each morning) was three hours late, so I earned some extra money. (We get compensated for the time we have to wait for the newspapers.)
In any case, I'm happy, because I now have a cool camera, and because I can listen to Bob Dylan and Jimmy Eat World.
Last time I was visiting my mother, I got an irresistible impulse: Make a pig! Make a pig! Make a pig! Within a couple of hours, I had produced the most recent addition to my dysfunctional pig family. His name is Serpieri, after the Italian artist who has drawn classical "erotic" comics like Druuna.
He has now joined my two other pigs - Severiina, rescued from a second hand shop, and Sergei Jr., sewn by myself.
Mihai thought he looked really retarded, and wanted to play with him. Okay, so he was throwing Serpieri in the air, letting Serpieri "jump" through a ring (a chewing ring for dogs that he found somewhere in Austria), and then he started talking about how Serpieri probably wanted to fly a bit. Since Serpieri spends all his days on my bookshelf, gazing through the window over the streets and houses outside, he probably wished he could fly.
I assumed that Mihai was just trying to provoke me to wrestle with him, so I didn't take his suggestions too seriously. Until Serpieri took off. Through the window.
I looked down at the street, and Serpieri's first flying lesson hadn't gone so well ... he had landed on the sidewalk four floors below. (Luckily, he didn't hit anyone ...) I rushed out to rescue him, and while I was making my way down the never ending stairs, Mihai watched a couple pick him up, talk and laugh at him, and place him in the wrought iron decorations on the side of the house (to the right in the picture below). Mihai says that if they'd have attempted to kidnap Serpieri, he would have thrown Severiina at them.
After a moment I had finally gotten down, and could bring him back home again ... But Serpieri still dreams of flying.