Category: Doodles

Back in black streatchy jeans

I think i might be overestimating the streatchy-ness of my streatchy jeans. In combination with me sitting still most of the day and doing nothing but eating and playing computer games, the assilicious-ness of them soon will turn to flubber-container-ness.

So, I’ve been looking at gyms. Crap they’re expensive. And it still seems, well, extremely boring to do that kind of things, whassisname, oh right – “excercise.”

Got back to GBG a week ago, and it was a wonderful delivery from excessive heat. I landed smack dab in a two-day party that some folk threw together in the Valand yard, and although I was a bit too off to participate much, I had a great time photographing people from my studio window. Me and a poster of miffy were hiding in the darkness, throwing peanuts at all the people who were pissing behind the dumpster as there were no bathrooms available. (At a party with 300-400 guests who were all drinking beer as if they were trying to bail the Titanic. I’m still working on my metaphors).

Also, the comb-back hair-style I’ve taken to seems to be the official one. It makes me look slightly like an uppety twat, but at least my forehead gets some fresh air.

A bit of a rain, err, storm

With temperatures in the 40s, and with humidity that can only be described as totally fucked up atlantic, it was with desperate joy that I received todays short storm. And it really was a storm – during 30 minutes it literally poured down, making cars go “sploosh” through deep puddles.

Now it’s warm as hell again, and twice as humid. It’s bloody unbearable. I’m actually dripping with sweat and my pants feel like I’ve pissed myself!

—————update—

Here’s a video of the rain from the increadible stifling heat of the office. This is some ten minutes into the storm; it’s worth remembering that just ten minutes prior the temperature was in the almost-forties and not a drop of water in sight (if you don’t count all the miserable sweat, of course).

Three shades of hair.

Because beauty belongs to the world, I tough I’d share some self portraits.

From the top:
1) Mateusz sits in a really warm pizza place and would look even more haunted where it not for the miracles of image editing.
2) In Poland you can still smoke almost everywhere (but not train stations, go figure). In fact, I’m smoking right now!
3) The heat (today it’s 36C in the shade) has driven me to extreme measures, and apart from walking around sort of butt naked, i comb my hair back to give what little brain I have left some relief. Image taken in slightly warped two-part mirror; my head really isn’t as big as all that.

Travels of a sweaty gentlemen

Today is the first day that the weather has relented somewhat. It’s still almost 30 in the shade (that’s 86 degrees Fahrenheit for you metric-challenged) and the humidity is still horrible, but it’s getting better. (Or I’m getting accustomed to it)

Whichever way, I’m not going to Poland in the summer again. Ever, ever.

Caught a cold in Warsaw, and today is the first day that I’m not actually making diesel-engine sounds when I breath. Yesterday it was 48 degrees in the sun (118F). What the flying hell on a shit!

I’m keeping indoors until sundown. (Yesterday, after the sun went down, it was still 30 outside, btw.) Tomorrow onwards to Krakow to meet up a cousin.

As a result of my hiding, I’ve been online a lot and downloaded a pdf of Neil Strauss “The Game” — his biography of pickup artists and his way to becoming one as well. Fun read.

Other than that. I still haven’t found a good PC app to resize & crop images, so if anyone has any to recommend, let me know. I do take pictures occasionally, but can’t be arsed to download the drivers that would let windows recognize a stupid SD card. Stupid computer.

The less fuzzy but not quite bald eagle

I’ve always had trouble with my own haircut (and look in general): Occasionally I can appreciate the fluff, but asked how I’d like it cut, I just go meh. This presented a problem today as I didn’t know how to say “meh” in Polish, and ended up saying “just don’t make me overly friendly.”

Fair enough — it’s hotter today than yesterday, and I’m happy sheading at least part of that dead ferret which had been occupying my head for the past three months. Besides, it’s nice to go to a fancy schmancy hairdresser just cause I can afford it here; Services are one of the few things that still are cheap.

I’m in a rut and have walked up and down the same street I always walk up and down; This “autistic tourist” approach applies to wherever I travel, so I guess I’m just a very rut-oriented kind of person. Who wuddathunkit.

Got me a Polish cell today, so I can be contacted at number +48 698 861 180. I might check the usual number from time to time, but since it’s a painful process to change the simcard in the phone I got, that won’t be too often.

Going for some tea. Y’all be good while I’m gone.

The fuzzy eagle has landed

I left Gothenburg, a city shrouded in clouds which manages to be both cold and asphyxiating at the same time, and landed in Warsaw ten in the morning.

Got fed by granma, slept a bit, talked biz with dad and talked misery with my granma. The more I think about it, the more I suspect that the moody genes are a wonderful combination of my paternal granmothers worrywartines, and on the maternal side the fear of authority. More research is needed.

Really have to get a haircut tomorrow. Which, btw, is the aforementioned birthday on which you should send me smut cause I feel like an alpacka in heat and it’s not the good kind of heat; It’s way too bloody humid here, and the mosquitoes are on a killing streak so I have to stay indoors after sundown. (think “vampires with insectoid eyes”)

My plans so far: Stay here over the weekend, then go south to visit relatives, then visit cousins in Krakow. Yay. Just really really need that haircut.

Move on up, move on down. Da-dum da-dum

Mark Melvin, the promising and strapping young artist from England, left two weeks ago, and it was sad. There’s definetly a vacation feeling to all of this, only that I’m going to return to a university that doesn’t seem to have my best interests in mind, and it’s a bit unsettling – there’s five of us left in the class, and since the course is being discontinued, I’m looking forward to the curriculum…

On a more or less sudden impulse I bought me a ticket to Warsaw. Leaving tomorrow in the early morn.

The past week has been uneventful. I’ve been working at the store.

And that’s it.

OK, OK, last weekend I went out with a friend from work and his sister, and that was nice. I actually have some nice pictures of that, but since I’m on a stupid pc I can’t really be bothered downloading an iPhoto replacement just to resize the images off the camera (I mean, c-hraist).

I’ll get a Polish cell-number tomorrow and’ll post it here.

Have birthday on Wednesday. Send me pictures of you naked.

Underlying

I tried to distill the motivation I have for The Boy with Half a Pinky, and arrived at these three paragraphs:

A project to measure the load-carrying capacity of text, an attempt at outright lying without speaking falsely and an illustration of automatic, biological narrative.

How far can one stretch the imagination to accomodate for ones beliefs in the face of contradictory (or inconclusive) evidence, and what is the quality of succesful propaganda (both the quality of the propaganda and the quality of our reaction to it, as well as the mechanisms that bridge the gap between what is presented and our internalisation of a message)?

Where exactly are you lost in the transition between presupposed understanding (unselfreflecting knowledge) and the rest of the world?

The galleries webpage is located here, where you’ll find more info about the exhibition.

All those megabytes add up to a whole pile of gigabytes

Even though I don’t consider myself to be a stuff-junkie, I’ve found myself in a situation where I more or less everyday walk around with a bunch of gear. The stuff itself isn’t all that interesting; An external harddrive, a USB2-stick, compact digital camera, iPod & cellphone.

It struck me that I’m a walking storage facility. Let’s calculate a bit

iPod: 40gb
HD: 80gb
USB2-stick: 2gb
Digicam: 500mb
Cellphone: 80mb (Memory Stick + built in memory)

Not accounting for the formatting, that’s 122.580GB of storage that I carry around with me more or less all the time. (Which is why sewing a really nifty backpack is quite high on my to-do list.)
Ok, so the harddrive is usually nine tenths full, as is the iPod. camera, stick & cell are say one third full.

There’s no point to this post, just that it’s all rather cool. If I could only offset my lazy monkey-brain memory with some on the hd, I’d be set!

And of course, I took a look at my desk and there’s roughly 300 cds & dvds (50% of each), a harddrive from a bricket iPod, one 4GB and one 40GB hd that I used in my bondage-iMac & a DSLR with 512mb. A lot of space.

If all the empty and unused space in the world saved data in a forest and there was no-one there to use it, would it make a wooshing sound or would only the trees shudder because someone sooner or later would try to print all that data?