Kas pole tore et....
Is it not great, that:
...On olemas inimesi, kelle sõrmed on koos savi või liimiga hilisõhtasest meisterdamisestning et see ongi nende "pohmell" (et sõrmed hommikul savised , LOL)
...there are people whose fingers have got clay or glue all over them from late night crafting?
...kellega on võimalik jagada kogemusi teip-mannekeeni tegemisest enda keha peal ja sellega seotud teadvusekaotustest, kuna teip hakkas kopse kokku suruma ja enne kui jõudsid mõelda et lämbud avasid juba põrandal silmi?
...there are people to share experience with about making a taylor mannequin on your own body from duct tape and the loss of consciousness related to this because the tape started to suffocate you and the next thing you knew you opened your eyes on the floor?
...kes ei unista mitte kuulsusest, vaid uuest õmblusmasinast?
....there are people who dream of not fame and fortune, but a new sewing machine?
...kes ei kirjelda esimese asjana kohtudes oma viimast pohmelli, vaid mõtisklevad, kuidas vanaema leerikleidist tehtud halloweenikostüümist imekombel jälle kleit saaks... ja kuidas ravida kuumast liimist tekkinud põletushaavu...või kes saevad ja haamerdavad öösiti elutoas, et oma kirjutuslauatool ümber kujundada.
on ju toredad inimesed.
...there are people who won´t start descibing their last hangover first chance they get meeting you, but ponder upon the possibilities of turning the new halloween costume back into grandmama´s dress. And their "hangover" is a hot glue burn or hammering injury.
Kiiksuga kunstiinimesi kohtan peaaegu iga päev. Näiteks ka eilane ei olnud miskit erilist. Lynch, kiiksuga kunstnik, ei midagi uut siin päikese all.
Artists with a kink. I meet them every day. Nothing new under this sun. Lynch either. So what if his kink was a little bigger....
Ja täna oli trammis üks rõõmus jotaproua, kes ei teadnud, kuhu ta sõidab...aga ta oli vaimustatud sellest et linn näeb välja nagu laev ja Kaubamaja ätnav ongi lennukite maandumisrada. Millegipärast tuletas ta hääl Edith Piafi meelde. Selline mitte küüniline, aga trotslik, eneseteadlik, ent ka abitu..... Ei midagi uut siin päikese all. Igal kunstiinimene kindlustab oma seljatagust erineval moel. Mõni alkoholi, mõni Niiilusa niiilusa issakeneküllkui suursuureookeaniga. Ühed hullud kõik?
And today there was this happy old drunk in the tram who had no idea where she was heading. But she was all taken from the idea that the city looks like a huge ship and the street is like a planes´landing strip. Her voice reminded me of the movie-Edith Piaf. Not rebellious, but independent, self- assured but also helpless. Nothing new under the sun. So some of them drink to ease the pressure and some of them dive into the OMGSOBEAUTYFUL, bigbigoceanlike OMGWHATABLISS.
Mis see minu kiiks oligi.... mina ei hakka jooma, mina ei hakka mediteerima...aga.....
kuramus, kas mul polegi selgelteristatavat kiiksu või?
I am an artist, so....what is my kink?....What? Nothing? Am I in denial or do I not have it? Am I really even an artist then? ... I think it is like this: when the pressure in art is too big, I write poems. When I dont get ideas for poems, I knit. When I am trying to take part in a competition, I get inspired by going to the library. It is all part of the same thing, but they have started to balance each other up and compensate for lack of inspiration on other fields.
Oi, ma pean kohe hakkama mõtlema. ma olen küll üleüldiselt pisut napakas...aga äkki pole sedagi eriti...?
...On olemas inimesi, kelle sõrmed on koos savi või liimiga hilisõhtasest meisterdamisestning et see ongi nende "pohmell" (et sõrmed hommikul savised , LOL)
...there are people whose fingers have got clay or glue all over them from late night crafting?
...kellega on võimalik jagada kogemusi teip-mannekeeni tegemisest enda keha peal ja sellega seotud teadvusekaotustest, kuna teip hakkas kopse kokku suruma ja enne kui jõudsid mõelda et lämbud avasid juba põrandal silmi?
...there are people to share experience with about making a taylor mannequin on your own body from duct tape and the loss of consciousness related to this because the tape started to suffocate you and the next thing you knew you opened your eyes on the floor?
...kes ei unista mitte kuulsusest, vaid uuest õmblusmasinast?
....there are people who dream of not fame and fortune, but a new sewing machine?
...kes ei kirjelda esimese asjana kohtudes oma viimast pohmelli, vaid mõtisklevad, kuidas vanaema leerikleidist tehtud halloweenikostüümist imekombel jälle kleit saaks... ja kuidas ravida kuumast liimist tekkinud põletushaavu...või kes saevad ja haamerdavad öösiti elutoas, et oma kirjutuslauatool ümber kujundada.
on ju toredad inimesed.
...there are people who won´t start descibing their last hangover first chance they get meeting you, but ponder upon the possibilities of turning the new halloween costume back into grandmama´s dress. And their "hangover" is a hot glue burn or hammering injury.
Kiiksuga kunstiinimesi kohtan peaaegu iga päev. Näiteks ka eilane ei olnud miskit erilist. Lynch, kiiksuga kunstnik, ei midagi uut siin päikese all.
Artists with a kink. I meet them every day. Nothing new under this sun. Lynch either. So what if his kink was a little bigger....
Ja täna oli trammis üks rõõmus jotaproua, kes ei teadnud, kuhu ta sõidab...aga ta oli vaimustatud sellest et linn näeb välja nagu laev ja Kaubamaja ätnav ongi lennukite maandumisrada. Millegipärast tuletas ta hääl Edith Piafi meelde. Selline mitte küüniline, aga trotslik, eneseteadlik, ent ka abitu..... Ei midagi uut siin päikese all. Igal kunstiinimene kindlustab oma seljatagust erineval moel. Mõni alkoholi, mõni Niiilusa niiilusa issakeneküllkui suursuureookeaniga. Ühed hullud kõik?
And today there was this happy old drunk in the tram who had no idea where she was heading. But she was all taken from the idea that the city looks like a huge ship and the street is like a planes´landing strip. Her voice reminded me of the movie-Edith Piaf. Not rebellious, but independent, self- assured but also helpless. Nothing new under the sun. So some of them drink to ease the pressure and some of them dive into the OMGSOBEAUTYFUL, bigbigoceanlike OMGWHATABLISS.
Mis see minu kiiks oligi.... mina ei hakka jooma, mina ei hakka mediteerima...aga.....
kuramus, kas mul polegi selgelteristatavat kiiksu või?
I am an artist, so....what is my kink?....What? Nothing? Am I in denial or do I not have it? Am I really even an artist then? ... I think it is like this: when the pressure in art is too big, I write poems. When I dont get ideas for poems, I knit. When I am trying to take part in a competition, I get inspired by going to the library. It is all part of the same thing, but they have started to balance each other up and compensate for lack of inspiration on other fields.
Oi, ma pean kohe hakkama mõtlema. ma olen küll üleüldiselt pisut napakas...aga äkki pole sedagi eriti...?
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