Wolves in the walls

Last week I pulled on my simple painting clothes, picked an assortment of brushes, carried some house paint jars from our art society's gallery and painted for the first time in months.



Each member of our group was free to paint a mural piece in the plywood wall of a local construction site. Impudent vandalism! (With the city's permission of course.) I didn't have any crystal clear image in my head, just a quick pencil sketch, so I just painted and watched where the picture went from there. I think it came up with a little sprinkle of Mononoke Hime, werewolves, an androgynous deity and a kitschy feeling of some social soviet art. And I admit, a little bit of Jon Snow's Ghost too. And also because I adore White Shepherd dogs.

It was challenging to use latex house paints as a medium and even more challenging to get the proportions even somehow right, but it felt so good to paint after a long pause! Painting with huge strokes without focusing too much on the details felt like art therapy, just splashing the paint on the wall and letting the brushes guide the way.

The special bonus in making public art is when you get nice or perplexing comments from the people that pass by. I guess the best comment about this piece was from a fragile-looking granny, who thought I was painting horses. I was aiming to portray wolves, but oh well, art is free for all interpretations! 

I wish I could do more huge works like this, this was my second wall piece and I'm aching for more practice. If you ever get the chance to try mural painting or spraying a graffiti (hopefully legally), I really recommend trying it!

If I look back I am lost.

The morning brought such happiness to me it pushed tears into my eyes.

For a month and a half, practically the whole summer, I've been locked in a void. You could call it apathy, but to me it meant more like death of the old spirit, and in the process also the death of my inspiration. More than anything it was a time of deep personal growth. Walking through days in a gray mist has felt much like a wasteland of depression, but not precisely. It was more of a period of cold silence and growth, focusing sometimes even selfishly on my inside and letting the dark and unnecessary burdens shed like snakeskin.

In the morning I could feel the inspiration flowing again, and I've rarely felt that grateful. So that's why I'm so happy now! It's hard to photograph such a feeling, so I'll just add a list here of little slightly vain and visual things I enjoy at the precise moment:

Bang bang! 

I started missing my bangs since they've been absent for months now. 

Cutting them again always feels like meeting an old friend.

30's half moon manicure with a sharpened edge and a matte finish has stuck to my nails for weeks.

I gave our orchids some coffee and they started to bloom like crazy!

I wish I could say the same thing about our poor herbs.

In the game of thrones, you win or you die.

It was worth all the wait to get the free hours to spend with these brilliant books!

 I devoured the first part quickly and now the Clash of Kings is waning towards its end.

 Bravo, Mr.Martin, bravo.

I've worn a lot of strappy shoes lately, so this trio is a current favourite. 

All are second hand, from flea markets and eBay. I found the used Jeffrey Campbell's Clinic shoes when there was still snow on the ground. I was aching to use them, but I had to get them repaired first because both of the platforms ripped off when I took them for the first walk. :-D Just my luck, but now they're good to go!

“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.”

Last but never the least, comics.

I've always been certain that comics can teach you some profound lessons of life.

This particular scene is in my all-time top list and I wanted to share it with you.

And this reminds me that I've got a two-person comic club meeting with my friend, 

so I have to run now! I wish you all a wonderful Saturday evening. ♥

Stockholm syndrome

One of the highlights of this summer took place about two weeks ago, when my sister snatched me away with her to Stockholm, Sweden's beautiful capital. She got me flight tickets as a graduation gift, how sweet is that! ♥ I was absolutely thrilled about the trip since I must have been one of the few Finns who had never been to Stockholm before. And also because I truly needed a break, a little adventure to draw my mind away from the everyday life.

We stayed in the city for a couple of days. Shopping felt trivial (though it accidentally bore some fruit, but I'll get back to that later) so our master plan was to wander aimlessly in those old, picturesque streets and eat. A lot. Here are some moods from the trip through a 50mm lens:

Vegan blueberry pie @ Hermitage

Stockholm has some great vegan and vegetarian options, but the best of all to me was Herman's. 

I almost wept when I tasted their buffet treats, had to take multiple portions!

 The only thing that puzzled me a little was how similar the local people looked. They are often described as stylish and I'm sure they are to most people, but I felt like walking in the middle of a clone army straight from the fashion catalog. Of course everyone's fully entitled to dress the way they want, but still: creepy! I know there must be lots of people with very individual styles out there, but I just couldn't find many. The goal of my next trip to Stockholm is to find them. ;)

They were playing this song! 

My pretty sister ♥

Otherwise, how could I not enjoy my time there? The narrow alleys of Gamla stan, comic book stores, vintage boutiques, veg sushi and countless beautiful old buildings all over the city. One of the best parts was when the royal orchestra started playing Danny Elfman's Batman theme the second we walked into the crowd (somehow they knew my secret identity, *gasp*!).

Much like the syndrome, the city captivates you in its beauty and you might quickly grow to love it. And it almost made me write this entire post in Swedish.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend

I've never desired real diamonds, with their sparkling cuts and heavy prices that are often paid with blood. But the music of King Diamond is another kind of diamond. I saw the godfather of spook stories and metal tales last weekend at Tuska metal festival. For some reason I hadn't attended it before although I've grown roots in the metal scene since I was a little girl, so it was about time to fix that!

source

King Diamond is a fairly new thing for me, as I was introduced to his music through my love's record collection. At first I chuckled at his rather unique voice, but the amusement grew quickly into amazement. Long live the King! The show was better than we expected, it was a true pleasure to see the old rocker perform so purely and full of heart! He kept the stage's ghost theater alive with his grimaces and flawless sounds, and we didn't even mind that he didn't play our favourite songs.

Otherwise Tuska was full of sunlight (to the joy or agony of all black-clad citizens), cold, over prized beer and the biggest pit I've seen in a while. King Diamond was the only act that I went there for, but I also checked out Testament, Kreator, Dark Buddha Rising, Ihsahn and some other bands I've seen before. Good times, fellas!