ghost town

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pe care parte a oglinzii esti tu acuma? ba { fluiera }

no touch-i-i-ing.

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apoi m-a pocnit cu o bila de hartie in ochiul drept

si ascultam dreadlock holiday -

totul vine de la ∫ine

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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

half dead + half sleeping : half twisted - half stirred xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx - ª -ª -º

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

monkey

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

monkey

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

monkey monkey walked up the hill,

came tumbling down the other side

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

i want less of myself and more of this . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 0

tourist through life part II

collected triffles, maggots and more, more, more, more...

. . . if you look l o o o o o ng enough will reality start

looking like / /// your mind wants

it to ? ? ? ?

or are we pushing escapism ?

pharcide of the moon and we've got tickets to take you there

or pass out in front of the pharmacy door.

time keeps tic-ing we start tac-ing

like you can't hit the shore without crashing into other waves, pushing further

and further, and further with each wave of consciousness or unconsciousness;

{ _ _ _ _ _ }

can't keep running away from yourself and into others

feels like a stone with water sipping through its veins

take-away people

moving like tectonic plates

-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_

mirror mirror on the wall

who am i after all?

.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.

listening to coco rosie's new and i started making a collage of their pics,

and included some of the stuff that's been pilling up in ff-found folders on my computer.

handpicked memories with a touch of _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ and sprinkled with plenty of pepper.

tourist through life

with a passport for fleeting thoughts. i keep reality in broken pieces tucked inside my pocket.

miriam and mi

*

perhaps i cannot be enough for this or nothing less than this, so time suction pores now rest.

pull my teeth out one by one

while we wait

old transparent blue yellow milimetric cardboard grey white paper transfer print glue and RYB string.
wrong words expressions junk and much less.

0123

Met the sky and kissed the sea, but i always knew that the sky couldn't embrace me, nor the sea rest me. Down the drain in sinking spirals, the night is bleached by turning. Try to accept the the wheel, end up washed out,burried beneath its hard crust. a new i everyday to sea.are we all just washing machines, tumbling moments inside ourselves until they crumble to fine pixels of sand? Does nothingness rest our souls finally? Billions of turning wheels in the street, chearning, grinding, pounding, falling, ticking, talking,,,one repetitive motion to grind us all into one.

when i grow up i want to make good fertilizer.

wednesdays are yellow

insides remain invisible to the naked eye, still we can only guess.,chimney sweeper gave me 7 little broom ends for luck this morning.

heads disappearing and reappearing

Mini series of creatures and creations for Jumatatea Plina Bookstore.

don't look

turbo tudor's first exhibit.

croissant cu mici

The world is a college of corporations, the world is a business, the world is spinning off its axes,

why chicken can't fly

last weekend i took part in a workshop on comics held by Laurent Maffre in Bucharest
and this what i pooped out: a short story about us chicken.

sunshine wash all waste away

 
 
 

from Romania

what's it like to live in Romania and be part of the E.U. you wonder? I've been asking myself the same stinking question, and it's been rotting my brains for the past month. This is the answer i've been able to come up with: my first sort of "serios/political" comic story. Below is the package for the CD that goes with the it, printed on ivory flipping paper. all for my personal insanity and www.eurocartoon.eu.

Special attention to ladies'&childrens' hair bobbling

Over here we have some stickers i made a couple of months ago + a friend's hand-drawn.

i like to refer to this piece as death with flowers. and it is some sort of a flag.

this was meant to be a flyer for dropdread, yet ended up as a sticker. it didn't turn out exactly how i thought it would but still i like, the same way i like rotten cheese, even though it stinks.

i went home for 2 days and this is what i remembered.

and this goes BONUS: a nice link to some sexy old shiznit. as the saying goes: you can take the shit out of the man but you can't take the man out of shit, hihihi...

______ can do all that nasty work for you, so you won't have to!

owl williams

good nait, i've been trying to upgrade this shiznit blog for a while but still seem to be facing perilous difficulty in maintaning contact with section 456/7.1 of my existence, oh well, but as soon as i'll get a bit of internet on my computer and more clarity of mind i'll upgrade with some friendly hunter drawings and other such paraphernalia.

all is just work in progress.,of the this,


here's a strange selection of pictures i've ended up with on my desktop by various artists whose names don't all come to my mind, like Victor Brauner, Nan Goldin and a couple less known.



and here's a couple of links from the internet: http://www.helsinkibiennale.com/artist.htm, http://www.aniceideaeveryday.com, http://www.thisisreallybadnews.com/

typographish vork by russian avant-garde. f*^-'#)}-k!!!

http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2002/russian/
it's old, but still feels fresher than most of the shit we're seeing today. iashido showed me this site, explore it and if you're into typefaces take a look through http://www.dailytype.ru/.

dilated-pupils''and'tense muscles eyes cannot believe

this is part of the crazy shit you can find on one of my favourite sites which is also in the list of links on this blog, and the incredibly magnificent site iz http://www.specialissue.net/ it contains a select variety of magazines which might be of some interest to yer visual appetite.

taking the dead for a stroll in the park

this guy is disgustingly good

check his gruesome, grueling, bleah stuffs at http://www.taylormckimens.com/.

refrigerator fun

Untitled folders on the computer, empty desk drawers, revolving doors and all. Time's always ticking and talking. Maybe time's passing is our only certainty. Waking up just in time to watch the sun set, thinking you've probably woken up 2 days after. Wishing you'd stayed up long enough not to sleep the whole day. Battery lows charged in sunlight. Blue blue sky. Towers cut down the sky. Roofs are patches of skin. But through the cracks of the streets rays of glowing light burst and evaporate when they hit the asphalt. Orange-pink blue grey blurry sharp blades of soft light.

Advertising signs have already started blinking in the streets. Now the rays look like claws hooked to the clouds to keep the sun from falling. Everything. Ripples, drops, making their way back into the sea, the ocean. Filtering a base vibration. Ice caps melting, economy crisis hits, general melt down. Some things are connected some are too disconnected, no web of care or understanding to connect them. Rosebud. Copy paste, people dancing like people they see on TV, looking like what they see in magazines and posing like models every step of the imaginary way. born slippy. sliding doors, doors that open from the floor, cold old floor. Brrr, energy buzzing, some sounds always in the distance even with supposed deep silence, i guess silence is hard to hear in the city. dirty epic-underworld. Jjjjj, sounds in our vocabulary composed and ordered, out of their multitude to form a base and then the branches of music stretch further away, from roots to the whole, veins pumping clay drops of honey to seep through our nest of insides. Mirror mirror on the wall, what lies inside me?

yes

http://www.theyesmen.org/
http://www.theyesmen.org/movie




http://www.wildblueyonder.wernerherzog.com/