Yet another year is drawing to an end. I had better not even guess how much of it that was spent sitting like this:
Credit and merit where merit is due!
Justice as soon as shells burst
If you have hatched and were labeled as “One”
We must assume you were first
If it says “Second” where you first saw the light
--- So says every good referee ---
Second you are and will second remain
No matter how close you might be
We’re ever so sorry, egg number three!
For a life of less corn, full of scorn
But you must have been lazy, a terrible sport
Even before you were born.
One more poem, just for the hell of it? ---
As autumn leaves are falling
I fall away
You are green and healthy;
You are boring! -- you may stay
Gravity now calls me
Away from your healthy lot
I don't think I can stand you
Please let me plunge and rot.
This election is a particularly worrying one, with the “Sweden Democrats” on the rise --- a funny name for a party that has imported German National Socialism and dressed it up to look Swedish and democratic and decent. None of which it is. The special thing about the SD is that it’s a party for fellow travellers. Regardless if you join them for just a short ride with some illusion of personal gain or all the way to “final stop, Auschwitz!” with right arms stretched you’re welcome, as long as you follow them one station closer to power. This means that you don’t need to think that much, and up to one fifth of the voting stock and a number of von Papen-ish parties seem to fall for it. Eerie.”
Other simple stuff that I made post finissage: This door with eyes becoming my favourite butterflies, the ubiquitous Cabbage Whites.
Let’s have a look at the details! Nothing is ever simple, and the eyes-turned-butterflies of course don’t stop transitioning there.
That’s about all that I have right now, save but for small stuff like this one, it might speak for itself. Decision, decision.
“Now it’s not far from house to house / But far from heart to heart”
Nils Ferlin was referring to the fast but heartless highways that they were beginning to build in his days, but it goes perfectly well for information highways too. We connect so easily, but it is futile as we do not quite reach each other this way, and in business context this means No Show. As this globe gets overheated, we’ll just sit there with our excellent contacts:
“It’s burning here!”
“Really? Here too!”
And nobody will have the heart put the fire out. Consuming sensibly, staying on the ground and all necessary last-minute implementations become Somebody Else's Problem. How much for communication when caring is gone.
Trying to see beauty in the middle of impending doom, I painted “Cloves” --- digital, saving a failed painting on cardboard.
I also invented The Abdominable Galtan, a parody monster, on the “political maps” that you may see here and there. (Sometimes referred to as “GAL-TAN”.) Galtan, this daft beast, can only think in terms of left vs. right, mild vs. brutal force. But I couldn’t care less if we’re ruled by an elite of idiots or an equally idiosyncratic herd. I am also oblivious to whether this rule is to manipulate you or whip you into submission.
What a cutie. On the lighter side, here’s “Cherries and Windfall”. It’s made in ink and many, many layers of watercolours on a thirsty piece of cardboard.
The odd little WW-beetle is something that I’ve seen two times in my life. The first time when having a dangerously high fever in my teens. The other after staying awake for three days and night, finishing my Bachelors’ thesis. Creepy-crawley. But the other time I was but in my twenties, and we were immortal back then.
I have already decided for an explanation, why do I draw and next paint on such an ephemeral material? I used to do fine oils (Winsor and Newton's best, Madame!) on carefully selected canvases, much the way that Rembrandt, van Dyck and Artemisia Gentileschi did. I will explain to the dofus that they made paintings meant to last as long as civilisation, in their case a few hundred years ahead. And so do I! I waste fine ink and watercolours and some faux gold even (a few modest strokes for fun, I don't think you see it here) on a recycled piece of cardboard that'll last for many, many months --- as long as our civilisation will.
The latter won't be recycled, obviously.
As a proof of this I point to the
Speaking of things unsustainable. I had a grass fire near me this month, and the yellow airplane in the background that lifted to pour water on it (I saw it myself) came from the same airport as some of the planes that cause it... So my dragon now bears the colours of our local airline. It transports people who in nine cases out of ten couldv'e taken the train instead.
To make all of this extra funny: Our local flight is sponsored by our taxes. It can't fly by itself any better than a kiwi bird -- or fruit -- can. So this grass fire belongs to the citizens. We own every flame of it, obviously.
Lastly, this is
As I write this the war in Ukraine has carried on for a round month, and both sides are showing signs of fatigue, and so are the spectators. The length of a war is generally measured from the first shot fired 'til Armistice (or, failing that, cease-fire of varying degrees of stability) but I wish that there was a name for the Fatigue Point, when wise warriors for the umpteenth time in history come to the insight that wars (with a few smashing exceptions) can't be won really.
But we're fighting a different war with such success: The war on nature. This one I made as a comment on Volvo Cars, which plans to build a fine Electric Car Battery Factory, which sounds grand until ou learn about the -- already inhabited -- wetlands where they plan to build it. You can't make up a better illustration of greenwashing or "Green Growth", no matter how you try. You can't make this up at all.
This is merely
I see that I last January (2021) sketched a quite harsh overview of Sweden and its repressive ways – I still stand by it. Historical reasons and guesstimates aside, this Pandemic Anti-Culture Special has been fattened with new restrictions aimed, above all, against culture.
Go to shopping malls, not theatres.
Work, don't hang around in bars.
(Joy can't be taxed.)
So this recent happy little piece (ballpoint pen/Photoshop) originated from that. I saw a lot of that no go tape (whatever it’s called in Real English) the other day.
Another recent piece in the same vein -- I found a good piece of cardboard. More ballpoint, watercolour, no electricity.
Here's some other good company. The people on Insta says that it must be some kind of Iris or See-weed.