Happy New Year!

Workahamsterholism

Not what I'd call fine arts, but might do as an illustration -- perhaps it is better to let the motif squeak for itself?

(Ink and watercolour on paper. Enjoy, and don't work that much.)

Merry Xmas!

A quick little thing made with a ballpoint pen and a little electricity... Merry Christmas!

This is post no. 100 of Paintstakingly -- thank you for following these serious follies :)

Dear Santa Claus,

I haven’t been a good child all through this year; it has been very rough for body and soul, not mentioning the remains of my heart. Still, if I may wish for something that would be good for all and not just little me…

I’m not interested in wrapped gifts, nor money. As for money, I’d rather do without. I’m very in for something that some grownups call Citizen’s Salary. They tell me that you have less worries then, they sort of give you a few golden coins a month so that you can eat and have a roof above your head that stays in one place and doesn’t threaten to fly away. That you can work with something worthwhile, even something that you’re good at, that you get time for friends and family and love even. Dear Santa, I dream that some grownups could start their own small business too without dreaming nightmares about money.

Some say that grownups are lazy and don’t want to work. I don’t think that they know how much happy people can work. Some say that we can’t afford giving so many golden coins away for nothing. It’s not for nothing. Dear Santa, the grownups look so sick and tired, and often they have to stop working after a few years. They don’t work because they’re happy. Deep in their hearts they work because they’re afraid! I wish that we could pay them to be happy and healthy, not to be sick and tired and without a home and you name it, Santa Dear. That costs money too.

I could go on, but now I’m sure that you have plenty to do. It’s a pretty big gift, and I hope that the reindeer are strong enough to pull it, but it would be our happiest Xmas ever.

Santa, Please?

Yours Sincerely,

Joakim

Ps. May I wish for a White Christmas too?

- - - *** - - -

Giant Spider Butterfly

It's a shame that I can't show you what I and my dancing friend have brewing -- my part in it is something between illustrations and art -- so instead we land in the Weird Animals Dept., throwing a wink to my friend M. I don't know if M. really wants her name spelled out, much owing to her well-founded, entirely rational... fear of butterflies. Butterflies! Fluttering dreams of the summer meadow... dear M, what turned our dreams into your nightmare?
"They're yucky, their eerie! They look just like spiders with their skinny creepy legs; once you forget about the wings they are spiders!"

Instead of arguing with this spin-off product of arachnophobia, I give you this Giant Spider Butterfly [Arachne Jumboyeti] to consider. Brrrrr?

- - - *** - - -

Ps. This week I gave my somewhat baroque English a little more exercise, too many words and a little imagery for Ohana Magazine. The subject is Stockholm Underground Culture and how to survive it...

Map vs. Reality

A sketch drawn in ink on paper, then turned negative. But Photoshop gave us happier cosmic colours. The entire universe wants cheering up, to be more positive on the whole.

November Lights

November! How can we make this collage of collected gloom somewhat merrier? Just a sketch on recent footage for a change, but I tried...

Concerning the rich measure of angels in my works as of late, I encountered some mild emotional blackmail in the form of a nice, beautiful but sadly Christian christian during my latest exhibition. She wanted to convince me that Jesus tries to reach me through these angelic visions, and that He should be believed in because He loves me etc. etc. which isn't proof really. (It wasn't even my worst case of emotional blackmail -- it was actually quite lame.) I told her that I'm baptized already, and passed Confirmation too, and don't suffer any lasting scars from either, and that all my attempts at communication with the Eternal Spheres have ground to a perfect standstill and cease-fire. She was gentle about it, however (no threats of sulphur). But now we may begin with a little sympathy for the devil...

...and add other things from below (no attempts at realism, merely trying to cheer up) such as fish...

...and other creatures of pure sub-surface improvisation.

If I believed in angels I would probably not paint them. Angels are, for me, Longings Unfulfilled, heralds of the kind of paradise that must vanish if you come too close, bursting like a soap bubble when pricked by the mortal needle edge of reality. Angels very rarely come down to pose in the studio that I do not have (that would be something. Spread your wings a little, please?) Instead we have this creature, whatever it is:

And with that, I thought, we'll call it a day. It's just a sketch, and descanzar es salud -- to rest is healthy.

Swamp of Unpaid Music

This little scene is an illustration for my article in good ol' Slynglar, a fanzine in Swedish for those who studied to become Something Useful but got infected with Culture instead. Some of us who write it got so infected that we made culture a living -- or keep trying to -- and when you do that you encounter various blokes who try to have you working for free. These cadgers appear in all disciplines -- this particular sermon I croak for emerging musicians submerged in the Swamp of Unpaid Music.

Those who absolutely want to might see some familiar characteristics, even reminding of Yours Sinc. in the frog/toad. Ribbit.

Coffee Nymphs Finished

Voilà, Coffee Nymphs in full colours. Served without further ado, as Yours Sinc. is suffering from Exhibition Fatigue in the middle of a Midissage... So as for a description of what these nervy beings are and how they came about, please see the previous week.

The whole little work...

I had to add just one happy cup. We need some hope.

Coffee Nymphs Post-Vernissage

So the vernissage+concert was finished at last, and especially the latter went well but demanded a huge lot of planning and logistics (one dancer, one singer, one poet, one violinist -- wonderful people -- and little me on the piano) so Yours Sinc. is now very tired. They tell me that I played well (we did get a fair little audience after all) and I might actually believe that, but I'm a little too exhausted to enjoy the success...

And here, I've just begun on a couple of Coffee Nymphs. They look frightened, somehow, a little scared that a little mug and a little company just might turn into something warmer than Latte, hesitating in front of a cup of Unplanned Luck. Having met too many pairs of these unromantically cold feet, I just had to start on this study from Singleholm City. There you go. Just try a sip.

Dragon Oil and Poor Lighting

Sorry about the poor lighting. November -- the worst month in the Swedish year -- is here in its full disheartening unglory. So the footage of the finished-at-last painting Nipponiana had to be shot in a parody on daytime looking like this:

Here it is anyway: Nipponiana, drying and trying and dying to be seen...

On the peaceful side there's a pair of iconic Japanese schoolgirls.
And on the less peaceful side there's a never-ending swordfight going on.

We have a few soothing flowers too, might be cherry blossom.

The weary artist is now considering a nap. When I wake up I'd like there to be snow, bright and angel white. Or I'd fancy waking up in April.

On Swapping Food and Changing Economy

Food Swapping is coming to Stockholm, Sweden, and this was ordered for a Facebook forum dealing with this endearing subject -- I got very free hands, and made... hands.

Once a surrealist, always a surrealist. If you have grapes to grow and give, it might change into something else, and this is what Food Swapping is All About.

I hope that the group (sadly not official yet) will be successful and large. Sweden needs more like this. But I imagine wider swaps; why not art swaps or work swaps or perhaps even swapping lives? And economy wants swapping dearly. It might change into something that actually looks like a market, tents and stalls and fruit stands and all. We might use money for swapping wares and services easier (this might even become the first reason to have a currency -- I beg your pardon for this unusually wild suggestion) -- that is, if we have to use money at all. Let's swap.

Talented Friends and Must-See Dance

A little music composed by Yours Sincerely, marvellously choreographed and performed by friend Anita. (Skymning means Nightfall in Swedish.) There's a children's corner tinge to the orchestration -- due credit goes to the dancer for this idea as the piece (originally for piano only) reminded her of dancing as a child. Voilà:




Speaking of next to angelic things, here's another friend, Karin the Poet (mentioned last week)

who is flying on the poster for my next show where one might see Anita live, hear me on the piano in the company of a good violinist, listen to the gently chocking poetry and see a little artwork of mine in real life. I aim for Gently Chocking too.

A Little Decadency

And so I'm done with my little animation + a dollop of music for Karin Lampa, friend and poet -- I'm sorry that her somewhat lecherous poem -- "Ice Cream House" -- is impossible to translate into English or even into its original Swedish. It's an allegory, or so she explained, on seeing a couple -- he and she -- becoming increasingly intimate, and you note with sadness that you are none of them... So deliciously odd things are thrown into into the verse, however, so many tastes and delicious lack of tastes that it might be read and heard any which way anyway.



But no time to rest. The show with the Poet and dancing friend Anita is drawing nearer -- the latter asked for a bit of decadency on the poster for that event, which I am working on right now.

Voilà! And cheers.

(To be continued...)

Meowing whilst Waiting for Showtime

The artist (or suchlike) has only had time for light sketching while planning a show + exhibition, which means too much running about and too little sitting still to do art. (This is not art, it's just a sketch.) Perhaps it would be better to be a cat? Cats (I am borrowing one right now) have this wonderful ability to just collapse, let go, fall down into a furry lump and let the rest of the world run itself, we merely keep our vigilant ears up...

Nice but not very exciting. So I made this distillation slightly in the manner of Hieronymus Bosch... Still window. Still something somewhat feline.

Swing Magnifique

A little while ago I had the joy of hearing Swing Magnifique again (unfortunately without charming singer Josefin Peters) -- these excellent interpreters of Jam Manouche, or French Jazz à la Django Reinhardt. A pencil made on the spot got a little digital colour afterwards, and here we are:

From left to right --
Terese Lien Evestad; violin
Filip Berglund; contrabass
below Filip we see maestro Åke Jonsson; rhythm guitar
next Daniel Grahn; guesting accordion
and last but not least Tom Buhre, solo guitar.

One point with using digital colouring is that the artist, suffering from a Less Magnificent Cold, can't ruin the original with electric paint no matter how violent the coughs and nasal explosions go.

(The original is not too bad, I guess. But a little colour cheers one up, and looks better on a screen.)

Party in Oil, with Angels

This is written in a hurry as I'm going to a party -- partying is more important than blogging. But it might amuse you to see the Angel of Stockholm Central Station finished and drying in the sun ---

--- paint still glittering. Elephants prefer red shoes, by the way. They don't like yellow shoes at all.

Party time! I do need a party.

Headless Oil and Soft Violins

I've been able to steal some time for my oil painting. This week: A somewhat headless person among rowanberries (I don't know why. Any suggestions on this head are welcome...)

...and...

...the strained hand of the painter in progress. I think that I may thank fellow artist Valeria Montti Colque for the turquoise colour of the scull; I've always found her Mexican art inspiring.

In his attempt to make a living, Yours Sincerely must sometimes put his beloved perpetual oils away and do some quick painting for bread. It is still fun to be given somewhat free hands and spread a little dalírium to the world, such as this soft fiddle.

I did the outline in some kind of red -- nicer than black outlines, I felt.

This is the whole, by the way, used as an invitation for a concert.

- - - May I go back to my oils now?

His Excellency Mr. Fredrik Reinfeldt of Sweden as a Penny Pig

Sweden is hopping merrily towards a new election, come next Sunday. Whilst the main purpose of voting is to keep the 'Swedish Democrats' out (half nazis, half idiots, the former capacity half hidden behind the latter) one might still want a change of government. Behold, thus -- oink -- of His Excellency.

While the Swedes are still pouring money in, it's anybody's guess where they go out. I guess for the ear; others might have other suggestions. Nobody knows. Oink.