mercredi, décembre 30, 2009

Fans of JFK

It is always nice for me to know other people who are into JFK.  This month, I was contacted by Senpai, an 13 year old Girl who likes to draw and read Mangas and who is really in Love with JFK.

She made a comic about her Passion and about how it feels when you fall for a historical President all while most of your friends and Class-mates are more likely to be the fans of contemporary Singers, Bands and Actors. She also described what happens when you  google for "Kennedy", in the hope of finding something useful or exciting, but get lost in an ocean of assassination-conspiracy-theories Crap and "JFK had Sex with < place any name that comes into your mind here >" Reports.

I recognized my own feelings more than once when reading her work.
The Problem with articles / Sites / Books  about JFK is, that there are WAY too much of them. And a whole lot of it is just freaking, weird nonsense. Unfortunately,  you often got this stuff as a gift from well meaning friends.
This is why I take the opportunity to publicly state: Please don't offer me JFK Books. Yes, there are some standard-works and must-reads and I do have them. If a new work worth reading gets published, I will know it and buy it myself. Offer me JFK Photos, drawings, dolls, figures, tapestries - stuff like this will be always appreciated. But I really do not need the opinion of another obscure researcher about who in his eyes, killed JFK, who slept with him and why this was the reason for the 9/11 attacks. (and yes, I DO own "profiles in courage")

Back to Senpai.  It is really nice to see that JFK still keeps on appealing to  people, even 47 years after his death. I love Senpais creative way to express herself and her feelings. A funny detail is, that she lives not far away from me. So we surely can meet in Real Life some day. Looks like the density of JFK-Lovers in the Vosgian Mountains is over proportionally high. Must be the air.

dimanche, décembre 27, 2009

Feast is over

I was pretty happy that I could return on dieting mode today. After 3 days of holiday food I am afraid to climb on the scale. But I'll have to on December 30, because I want to know my start-weight for 2010.
Not that there were any excessive eating, but my body is so much used to very low calorie intake that it will probably not let me get away with the salmon, the Spätzle and the occasional chocolate from the tree.

Now all I have is to survive the December 31. traditional Swiss  Cheese Fondue and then I'm ready to go into new year with exercise and low energy food.

I received some nice Gifts. Most pleasant were some new clothings for my JFK Doll, made by my mom. You know, I may be an old Lady now, but Toys or Toy-Supplies are still my Idea of a very ideal Xmas Gift. ;-)

The cat in front of the Doll is Flecki.

This morning I went up at the attic, cleaning it out a bit more. I took out a lot of boxes with old catalogs for Comics and Postcards I made somewhere in 1996. Pretty accurate, huh? I packed all that stuff into the car and will bring it to the recycling Yard within the next days. Good riddance.

I love being up there, dreaming about my new room. I try to imagine where the furniture will go, how the walls will look, once they are fixed and covered with Dado. I imagine the window, how it will bring light and air into my room.

vendredi, décembre 25, 2009

The Millenium Decade

We are going into the "week between the years" - one of my favorite times, it has something special, hard to describe.
These days, we are not only closing a year, but an entire decade. The first in the new century! Therefore, the usual summary and back-looking will be extended to the whole decade.

2000-2009 Personal Review

Best things that happened this decade:
* Got a Water Closet. (2005)
* JFK entered into my Life (definitely the very best) (2000)
* Got into a help program for starving single entrepreneurs and artists (2008)
* Got some well paid Jobs at publishers.
* Got the Cats Millie, Georgie (2000)  and Pico (2008)
* Had the Living room fixed (2006)
* Getting involved with Spreadshirt-Designs (2007)

Worst things that happened this decade;

* Death of Johnny Oddeye (2000)
* Minor Stroke, messing up my vocal capacities.(2001)
* High pressure (2001 - now)
* Car Accident (2006)
I only mentioned things that still affect me in a way or another. Interesting, that only these four came into my mind.  Either I am repressing a real trauma like a rape ore something, or I was rather lucky in this decade, after all.

Best decisions / things I did this decade:
* Starting the animated Movies (2008)
* Starting my Diet (2008)
* Swapping the Garden grounds with my neighbor (2006)
* Stopping doing comics (2008)
* Starting cycling (2009)

Worst Decisions / things I did this Decade: 
* Going to the Erlangen Comic fair 2005 (?) I'm still paying back a credit to a friend who loaned me the money I could do so.
* Overreacting many times which resulted in the loss of some real good friends.
* Loosing countless hours of my Lifetime with senseless debates on Forums. (2000- 2008)

All things taken into account, I think that for me personally, the decade was a good one, it was marked by steadiness (Hey - I am now living in this house and in this village  for more years I ever lived elsewhere in my life) and slow, but continuous growth into better conditions.

Things I am willing to achieve during 2010:
* Finishing at least one Film (probably "La Bête des Vosges") and make it successful.
* Achieving my goal in weight-loss. (I'm not far away from it, anyway)
* Having the Attic turned into my personal room!
* Having at least one new book published.
* Starting to work with Runes

I'll try not to:
* Bitch around too much when I am in a shitty mood.
* Get involved into idiotic Internet-Debates.
* Give in to any creative idea which would make me loose the trail of the projects in progress.
* Give in to my phobias and fears.

I'ill try hard to:
* Being reliable with the updating of this blog, as well as of the Weltenbibliothek.
* Take more time for spiritual tasks
* Celebrate every pagan observance that applies to me and my path.

jeudi, décembre 24, 2009

Merry Xmas!

To all who celebrate Xmas today, I wish you a very happy holiday and plenty of gifts as well as good food!

The above card was done by artist Geier in reference to our talk in the comments here.  A masterpiece of his talent.
Geier is the artist of several German Comic series. He mostly work on scripts by writers, such as Rochus hahn. One of his best known series is Horst: Its about a sex-addict Rabbit. You can read some of Horst's Adventures online in German and in English  Mature audience, only!  ;-)

mercredi, décembre 23, 2009

Tagged! First Book

Magaly tagged me in her Post about the first book she ever read

Well, first I thought that she meant the first "real" book, ahm... written one. This would have been the Western "Hondo Lane" at the age of 8.  - but Magaly herself told us about a comic, so I guess the rules are "anything of paper that has a story printed on".

My very first books were those tiny little children booklets "Pixi". I inherited them from my mother from the time she was a baby. I was about 2 years old when I started to handle them and was very fond of these little booklets. They occupied me an  endless time. I imagined my own story to fit the pictures,  (because of course, I could not read then).
Later, when I was able to understand the text it was interesting to discover that sometimes, my imagination was very close to what the actual story was and sometimes totally away from it. Sometimes I thought that my version was just better and sometimes I was happy that the story was not as sad as I perceived it when looking at the pictures only.

After the Pixie Booklets, I started to read Petzi and other comics such as Fix and Foxi and Felix the Cat.
We had a big warden filled with Micky Mouse and Donald Duck Comics from my Mom's childhood, but, it was funny, I never got warm with the Disney universe. As a child, the characters appeared to me as flat, ugly and somehow "cold".
It was the same phenomenon with the Fix and Foxi Comics of the more modern times (70ties); 
I grew up with the ones of the fifties (also inherited from my mom) and in comparison, the contemporary series was badly drawn in my eyes, almost vulgar, with a very primitive language. Indeed, the comics were subject of an inflationary use of onomatopoeia, which I found simply gross.

When I was about 8, I started to read written books in addition to the comics. Here too, I could dispose of a large book stock from my mom's youth and childhood, but oddly enough, the phenomenon was a reversed one: I hated the "old" books. When I read the book my mom liked best and about which she told me on how it was funny and cool, it was not funny, but just stupid. The book's title was "Mein Name ist Eugen" (My name is Eugene") and it was about a 12 year old boy who did a lot of Nonsense. The nonsense was supposed to be funny, but I just thought that it was bullshit and often  even really cruel: That little bastard killed a dog and almost another child and I'm supposed to find that cute? 
I'm wondering if that is a generation thingie. Usually my mom is the one who can't bear "bad" humor,  so why the hell did she like that tasteless shit so much? Well, I do accept it of course, just as she accepts that I like books she hates.

mardi, décembre 22, 2009

Feiertagskrach Adventskalender Türchen 22

Sorry, this Entry exceptionally is in German, because it is pat of an inter-blogger Project of a Blogger community that mostly speaks German.

Blogger Adventkalender Türchen 22

Der Tag nach Jule ist immer ein ganz besonderer. Der schwere Duft des gestrigen Festes hängt in der Luft, hier und da liegen noch die Schleifen der Geschenke auf dem Teppich, leere Sektgläser stehen herum und alles strahlt diese zufriedene Ruhe aus, auf die man sich in der Adventzeit so gefreut hatte.

"Der Jule-Topf war gestern auch besonders gut" lobte Jackie das Festmahl das es am Vortag gegeben hatte.
Präsident Kennedy. sass in seinem Sessel und sinnierte.
"Nicht wahr?" hakte Jackie nach.
"In den Juletopf gehören drei Sorten Fleisch; Rind, Pferd und Schwein. Unseren armen Zuchtbullen, der sich im Herbst den Kopf im Gartentor eingeklemmt hatte, habe ich wohl herausgeschmeckt, das Pferd auch. Aber ich erinnere mich nicht an das Schwein." sagte John F.
"Ich verstehe nicht ganz"
"Das Schweinefleisch! Die Sau! ich hatte keines!" insistierte Kennedy.
Jackie schaute ihren Gatten etwas verdattert an. "Der Topf war gut durchmischt, natürlich hast Du was abbekommen, wie wir alle" versicherte sie.
"Defintiv nicht.  Du! Hast Du das Schweinefleisch gestern bemerkt?" fragte John F. Theo, der gearde hereinkam.
"Die Sau! War da Schweinefleisch in Deinem Teller?"
"Ich denke schon..."
"Du denkst?"
"Ja, mein Bester, ich denke, stell Dir mal vor!"
"So war's nicht gemeint. Bist Du denn sicher? Wegen dem Schweinefleisch, meine ich."
"John, Du wirst uns hier doch nicht die amerikanensische Antwort auf das peinlichste Märchen aller Zeiten  liefern. Also bitte, das wäre defiitiv unter Deinem Niveau."
"Bäh, natürlich nicht! Darf man jetzt noch nicht mal mehr etwas nachfragen?!" entgegnete der Präsident sharf.
"Du fragst nicht, Du machst uns gerade eine Szene" stellte Theo trocken fest.
"ICH? Eine Szene? Ich habe nur gefragt! "
Jackie verdehte die Augen: "Du hast genervt und tust es noch und das ganz gewaltig!"
"Seit wann ist interessiertes Nachforschen Nerven? Ich habe lediglich die Feststellung getroffen, kein Schweinefleisch abbekommen zu haben und dezent versucht, die Gründe dafür zu erörten. Und ihr tut so, als wäre das ein Verbrechen!"
Theo atmete tief durch. Er nahm sich zusammen und beschloss, das Ganze pragmatisch anzugehen.
"Mensch, John. Wenn es Dir so verdammt wichtig ist, dann geh doch einfach in die Küche und frag Seita, unseren Koch. Der wird wohl wissen, was er in den Juletopf geschmissen hat. So ein kleinkarrierter Kuhdung, aber auch!"
"Zu kleinkarriert!" ging Jackie dazwischen und packte John, der gerade aufstehen und richtung Küche stiefeln wollte : "Ich glaube bei Euch beiden hackts!  Wenn Seita später in seiner Feizeit rumerzählt dass der Präsident, der als grosszügiger, würdevoller Herrscher gilt, in wirklichkeit ein gestörter Spinner ist, der sich nicht zu schade ist persönlich in der Küche aufzutauchen um nach beknacktem Saufleisch zu fahnden,  dann ist das Dein politischer Untergang!"
"Hast Du mich gerade gestörter Spinner genannt?!" fauchte John.
"Sie hats nicht so gemeint" versuchte Theo zu deeskalieren.
"Ich hab's so gemeint. Wenn Du DAS machst, dann HAST Du einen an der Klatsche!"
Ehe John F. antworten konnte, klopfte es an der Türe. Theo eilte sofort hin, um selbige zu öffnen, erschien ihm das Anklopfen doch wie der rettende Gong in einer Box-Runde. Vor ihm stand Seita der Koch. In seiner Begleitung war ein junges Mädchen, welches mit rotem Kopf auf den Boden starrte.
"Ich bitte um Vergebung, wenn ich störe" entschuldigte sich Seita um dann mit strenger Mine auf das Mädchen zu zeigen: "Diese junge Dame hier hat Ihnen was zu beichten!"
"Kann das nicht warten" antwortete JFK missgelaunt.
"Nein, wir hören wir sie uns jetzt an!" befand Theo.
"Na los, sag was Du getan hast!" befahl Seita.
"Wer bist Du überhaupt" fragte Jackie das Mädchen.
"Miryam, Küchen-Azubine" antwortete die Kleine.
"Sprich lauter" tadelte Seita.
"Ich...ich sollte doch gestern das Fleisch für den Juletopf schneiden" begann Miryam ihre Beichte.
"Und?" Das Interesse des Präsidenten war nun offensichtlich geweckt.
"Ich habe Scheisse gebaut, ich..."
"Sag nicht dauernd Scheisse, schon gar nicht in der Gegenwart des Präsidenten" unterbrach Seita.
"Ich hab Mist gebaut. Ein Ei gelegt. Einen Bock geschossen. Als ich gerade an der Rinderhälfte gearbeitet habe, ist mir die Laterne runtergefallen und voll auf das Rind geknallt. Sie verstehen?"
"Du hast das Rind flambiert?" fragte John F. ungläubig.
"Ne, die Flamme ist beim Aufprall erloschen, aber das Petroleum ist ausgetreten und hat die ganze Hälfte eingesaut. Naja, das Fleisch war natürlich voll am Arsch. Neues besorgen ging auch nicht, denn gestern waren ja alle Läden dicht. Die Kacke war am dampfen, da habe ich halt improvisiert: ich nahm also die erlegte Wildsau, schnitt mehr avon ab als vorgesehen um das Rind zu ersetzen und kochte das Schweinefleisch erst mal in Rinderbrühe, damit's halt wie Rind schmeckt. Naja, weil wir ja sowohl Rind als auch Schweinefleisch eher selten essen, wird's nicht auffallen - habe ich mir jedenfalls gedacht. "
"Also, nur damit ich das richtig verstehe" sagte Jackie" In dem Topf waren demzufolge einfach nur Pferd und Schweinefleisch."
"Ja, genau. Als Rind getarntes Schweinfeleisch, sie wissen schon, wegen der Brühe."
"Sehr interessant, mein Kind, aber eines würde mich noch interessieren" sprach John F, nun plötzlich ganz gelassen: "Warum hast Du es nicht so gemacht, dass Du nur einen Teil des Schweinefleisches in der Rindertunke gekocht hast und den anderen nicht, um die Illusion eines drei-Fleisch Topfes zu erhalten?"
"Ich habs in der Aufregung vergessen."
"Du bist sogar zu blöd zum faken, das ist es!" warf Seita ein. "Mister President! Ich bitte gnädgst darum, die angemessene Strafe für diese kleine, hohle Nuss auszusprechen. Schliesslich hat sie Ihren Juletopf verdorben."
John F. stand auf und warf sich in eine ganz und gar staatsmännische Pose. "Mitnichten, der Topf schmeckte ganz ausgezeichnt. Und das allein zählt doch, oder? Es ist nicht die Aufgabe von Präsidenten sich Strafen für Küchenazubis auszudenken. Übernehmen Sie das, Seita, wobei ich um Milde bitte, zumal der Schaden minimal war."
Seita verabschiedete sich und zog mit der sichtlich erleichterten Miryam davon.
"Soso, der Schaden war also minimal" grinste Jackie.
"Gut dass wir das jetzt auch wissen" doppelte Theo nach.
John liess sich in den Sessel sinken und schaute sich ungläubig um. "Kann es sein, dass wir gerade einen klassischen Feiertagskrach in der Familie hatten?"
"Sieht so aus." bejahte Jackie.
"Nein, wie ordinär! Dass MIR sowas passieren konnte."
"Das liegt vermutlich an dem Zuviel des Guten der Festtage. Wie heisst es so schön, nichts ist schwerer zu ertragen, als eine Reihe von  schönen Tagen." philosophierte Theo.
John F. war froh über die Milde seiner Gatten. Ihm war längst bewusst geworden, dass er sich nicht gerade souverän aufgeführt hatte und nahm sich vor, die verbleibenden Festtage lammfrom zu bleiben.


Morgen geht es weiter bei 2Wölfe

lundi, décembre 21, 2009

A blessed Yule

Light was born again!

To all of you a blessed winters solstice, Happy Yule!

dimanche, décembre 20, 2009


It's funny, in what kind of weird things some people believe. I'm not talking about Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny, for these beings have their own truth and do exist, at least, in some way.

I'm talking about the totally braincracked faith some people apparently had into the climate summit in Copenhague. Come 'on. Did you really think one single second that the result would be more than the usual "yes, climate change is no good, we should do something and will do something when we have some time and money to spend and of course, when the others did something first. So lets talking about the whole thing later." If so, you are a fool, sorry.
And as long as countries like China with the world's best growing economy can shamelessly claim the developping-country bonus for themselves and when, in response to that, USA and Europe prefer to wait too, then nothing will ever change.

The Frost Patterns that covered the windows of our house this morning seem to contradict the theory of global warming. I know a lot of people who suddenly stop to take the threat seriously when they encounter a little snow under their feet. A look into the stats of storms and cyclones of the past ten years comparing to the rest of the 20 century, seems not as convincing as freezing a couple of days during winter. Face it: Most of us just look at what happens in the reach of their individual perception. It's not different for World Leaders.

samedi, décembre 19, 2009

Post Trip

Okay, its really cold now and I admit that Snow and winter can be stressful ;-)
There's ice on our windows, the kitchen is a freezer in the whole and I can't go pee without having my ass frozen on the toilett.
Went down to the Post office this morning and took these pictures on my way:

Okay, guess it's pretty much what most of you all see too, when going outside.

When I arrived, Post office was closed. It's supposed to be open at Saturday morning. While I was standing at the door, cursing the "reliability" of public services, the mayor's secretary arrived and said that she thought that with the weather condition, the post-office employee surely would not come to work, so she wanted to have a look at the office herself.
She could not process my letters, but offered to take them with her when she drives to town and send them off at the Post-office there. She then called the said employee to ask her what happened, and got the response that, indeed, she would not come because of the streets.
Okay, I admit that driving is  not easy now, but not impossible either. See Photos. Snowplow has done its job and the big lanes are even cleaner than that. The minimum in my eyes, would have been to inform the office that she would not come.
Anyway, the letters got off and in a silly way, I enjoyed the fact that the Secretary called me "a little lady" when she talked about me on the phone call with the post-employee. All while I'm not aware of any shrinking effect on my height due to dieting, I am apparently no longer perceived as "big" person.
That's very  fine.

vendredi, décembre 18, 2009

Shit happens!

Today the snow came - I mean really.  They announced it since two day and indeed, it was a huge load.
It was the kind of first-snow-day that causes chaos on the street, because its new and the snowplow hasn't passed by yet or didn't have enough effect.

Usually, I avoid to drive out such days. But today, I had to get Medics for Gribi. He's not well, so I didn't want to wait for better weather.
I drove down the snowy street very, very slowly.
Not slowly enough.
When the sharp curve came, The car didn't follow my driving and instead to take the turn, it crashed into an old stone-wall. Well, "crashed" is a too big word for what happened, but it was an impact.

Funny what your fist concerns in such moments can be. Mine was that I was too close at the house of the asshole-neighbors and that I didn't want - not for any wealth of the world - being seen by them and giving them something to laugh.
Since there were no human or animal being hurt and even the stone wall wasn't a particular person's propriety, I just drove away. I didn't know what happened to the car, but at least, it still rolled. I drove to the first stop of my trip, the recycling yard where I wanted to get rid of some trash from the attic. When I arrived there, I had the first look at the car: The damage was far less than I feared. In fact, just a plastic item beyond the bumper that was broken. And of course several scratches on the bumper itself.
I went to the mechanic who's just a few hundred meters away and had him have a look. He said that it was not a vital damage, I could still drive with that car, but will have the problem to be fixed of course. He was surrounded by a whole bunch of wrecked cars. "All from this morning" he said.

I then got Gribis Medics and shopped the few items I had on my "forgotten last time" list. At home, I received the call of the mechanic telling me that repairing my car will cost me 230 Euros. Shit, that's much.
But well, it was a very tiny accident. I feel like a drama-queen for blogging it at all.
Shit happens.

mercredi, décembre 16, 2009

Blog Adventskalender

The following Entry is in German, because it is part f a Inter-Blogger Project, sorry.

Heute bin ich dran mit dem Blogger Adventskalender. Schade, viele haben offenbar 
ihren Einsatz vergessen / verpasst und ich frage mich auch ein bisschen, 

ob sich der Aufwand lohnt, liest vermutlich eh kaum wer. Aber nun habe ich zugesagt, zwei Tage (den 16 und den 22 Dezember) zu übernehmen und das mache ich jetzt auch.

Nachfolgend eine kleine Vorweihnachtsgeschichte aus dem Antique White House Universum:

Der Schneeeulenmond, oder auch Dezember hat es so in sich, dass die Menschen den Kalender sehr viel aufmerksamer als im übrigen Jahr beobachten. Fragen wie « Welchen Tag haben wir heute eigentlich? » hört man in der Adventszeit deutlich seltener.
Das ist in der einfachsten Bauernhütte nicht anders als im Weissen Haus. Sogar Präsident Kennedy wird dabei ertappt, wie er jeden Tag auf den Kalender schielt – und das nicht um nach Terminen für Konferenzen zu schauen.
Auch heute war dem wieder so und diejenige die ihn dabei beobachtet hatte, seine Frau Anastasia,  sprach ihn darauf an.
"Wir haben den Sechzehnten. Noch 5 Tage.
 Fünf harte Tage",  seufzte John F. " Das ist fast so schlimm wie in der Kindheit."
"Sei froh, dass wir keine Christen sind, denn dann dauerte es noch ganze 8 Tage."
"Ach weisst Du, bei uns früher haben wir einfach zwei mal gefeiert. Einmal das heidnische Weihnachten am 21 und einmal das christliche Weihnachten am 24." 
"Gabs auch beide Male Geschenke?"
"Ja, Die Geschenke meiner Mutter, die Katholikin war, bekam ich erst am 24. Die meines Grossvaters der Heide war, schon am 21."
"Ist doch schön. Aber es kommt ja eh nicht auf die Geschenke an, nicht wahr?"

Kaum dass Anastasia dies gesagt hatte, setze John F. seinen beunruhigenden, düsteren Blick auf. Verstohlen wie ein Schuljunge blickte er zu Boden um dann aus den Augenwinkeln in Anastasias Richtung zu blinzzeln.

"Bring das mal einem Kind bei. Egal ob Rückkehr des Lichtes, Geburt von Jesus oder Mitras oder allem zusammen -  klingt ja alles sehr schön, aber wer glaubt, dass Kinder nicht erstlienig wegen der Geschenke Weihnachten zufiebern, romantisiert selbige hofnungslos. Wenn man sich als Kind auch noch etwas ganz spezielles gewünscht hat, dann tritt dieser eine Wunsch voll und ganz in den Vordergund... So wie bei mir, als ich zehn war. "

"Erzähl!" lächelte Anastasia

Ich hatte mir Pfeil und Bogen gewünscht. Dies sogar schon seit zwei Jahren, aber früher hiess es immer, ich sei dafür noch zu klein. In jenem Jahr hatte ich aber Grund zur Annahme, dass nun endlich etwas daraus werden würde.Und so hielt ich es spätestens seit dem 12. Adventstag vor lauter Vorfreude nicht mehr aus. 
Ich hatte schon damals eine politische Ader und versuchte daher, einen früheren Termin für das Julsfest auszuhandeln. Mit diesem Anliegen biss ich jedoch auf Granit. Denn, so lautete es übereinstimend aus der Erwachsenenwelt: Das Julsfest wird gefeiert, wenn der Jule-Hirsch das Sonnenlicht wieder findet und das ist am 21. Tag.

« Jeden Tag nach Litha, der Sommersonnenwende, scheint die Sonne etwas weniger lang. Das  nicht gesendete Licht versteckt sie an einem geheimen Ort und dort wird es verwahrt bis zu Jule. Dann kommt der Jule-Hirsch und bringt das Licht zurück zur Sonne und diese gibt es dann wieder stückchenweise auf die Erde zurück, jeden Tag etwas mehr davon » So jedenfalls erkärte es mir mein Grossvater. 
So logisch das Ganze klang, mir wollte trotzdem nicht recht einleuchten, warum der Hirsch das Licht immer erst am 21. Tag findet.  Ich schlug daher vor, ihn mit dem Einsatz von modernen Suchmethoden - einer Hundestaffel oder mit Scheinwerfern bestückten Zeppelinen – zu unterstützen.

Keine dieser Anregungen stiessen bei meinen Eltern auf Zustimmung. Nur meine kleine Schwester Kathleen war von der Idee angetan. Was angesichts der Tatsache, dass sie ihrerseits auf eine sehnlichst gewünschte Stoffpuppe zufieberte, verständlich war.

Und so beschlossen wir, die Sache eben selber in die Hand zu nehmen. Unter dem Vorwand nur etwas ausreiten zu wollen, holte ich mein Pony und wir galoppierten hinaus in die Kälte. 
Am Anfang war alles ganz leicht und machte auch viel Spass. Spielerisch guckten wir überall nach, wo man unserer Meinung nach eine Ladung konserviertes Licht versteckt halten könnte, unter Felsen, in Baumhöhlen, hinter Holzstapeln oder in alten Heuschobern.
nach einiger Zeit fing Kathleen mit dem "Du, Jack, ich bin müde, mir ist kalt und ich will nach Hause" Genörgel an.
"Wir haben das Licht aber noch nicht gefunden" wies ich ihr Begehren zurück.
"Mir egal; ich habe Hunger".
"Wir reiten jetzt noch zu dem Baum dort, wenn dort nichts ist, kehren wir um."

Als wir beim Baum angelangten und nichts fanden, schlug ich vor, es noch ein bisschen weiter, bei den Dünen zu versuchen. Als dort auch nichts war, lenkte ich das Pony in den Küstenwald. Kathleen hatte schon bei den Dünen kategorisch nein gesagt, aber mittlerweile hatte ich ihr das Mitspracherecht schlichtweg entzogen und ritt immer weiter, ihr Gequängel ignorierend.

Fast gänzlich unbemerkt von uns, hatte sich der Himmel zwischenzeilich arg verdüstert. Dunkle Wolken zogen auf, eine eisige Brise wehte vom Landesinnern heran und trieb uns Tränen in die Augen. "Ich will nach Hause, ich will nach Hause! Ich sag alles Mama und dann verhaut sie Dich fünf Wochen lang!" Kathleens verzweifelte Drohung erstickte fast in ihrem Schluchzen. Endlich sah auch ich ein dass es Zeit war, umzukehren. Das Pony war durchgeschwitzt und fror und auch ich fühlte mich nicht mehr wirklich wohl.
Nun fing es an zu schneien. Zunächst nur wenige Flocken, dann mehr und nach wenigen Minuten ware es so, als ob Frau Holle persönlich die Kissenschlacht-Party des Jahrhunderts feiern würde. Ich konnte kaum noch etwas sehen. Kathleen wimmerte und das Pony schnaufte und zitterte.
"Sind wir bald da?" scherbelte Kathlens Stimmchen hinter mir.
Das war allerdings gelogen. In Wahrheit wusste ich nicht einmal mehr, wo wir waren. Die Landschaft versank immer tiefer im Schnee, es wurde dunkel und ich fror und schlotterte.

Plötzlich hörte der Schneefall auf. ganz abrupt. Mir war auch gar nicht mehr kalt. Vor uns lag eine stille Waldlichtung, versunken im unberührten Schnee. 
"Wo sind wir" fragte Kathleen. 
"Ich weiss es nicht."

Aus der Mitte der Lichtung schimmerte ein eigenartiges Licht. Es war hell, warm und zog uns wie magisch an. Ich trieb das Pony voran und so näherten wir uns der Mitte der Lichtung.
"Schau nur da!" Rief Kathleen.
In der Mitte der Lichtung, tief im Schnee stand ein goldener Kessel, gefüllt mit Licht. Daneben wachte eine schneeweisse Hindin. 
"Wir haben es gefunden! wir haben das Julelicht gefunden" rief ich voller Aufregung. 
"Dann lass es uns holen und dann gehen wir aber wirklich nach Hause".
Ich sprang vom Pony und wollte auf den Kessel zugehen als plötzlich eine
kleine Fistelstimme aufschrie: "Halt! Was wird das, wenn's fertig ist?!"
Neben mir stand ein knorriger, kleiner Kobold, fast so hässlich wie die entsprechenden Holzschnitzfiguren, die man auf diesen kitschigen Rollenspieler-Börsen kaufen kann.
"Ich will das Julelicht holen" antwortete ich dem Zwerg.
"Bist Du noch bei Trost, Du saublöde Blage?!" giftete der Kobold.
"Was willst Du eigentlich!? Lass mich jetzt durch!"
"Wenn Du das Julelicht jetzt schon, am Sechzehnten, in die Welt bringst, was wird dann wohl passieren?".
"Ich kriege meinen Bogen früher."
"Du gierige, kleine Null, NEIN! Na gut das vielleicht schon, aber hast Du mal zwei Sekunden über die Konsequenzen nachgedacht?  Also, pass auf du Genie! Wenn Du die Wintersonnenwende am 16 stattfinden lasst, werden die Tage wieder länger, das Licht wird also wieder verteilt."
"Ja, eben, nachdenken Du Hirni! ...und reicht dann natürlich nicht bis zum 21. Juni, zu Litha. Ergo, wird man Litha auch vorziehen müssen, auf den 16. Juni. Dann natürlich auch nächstes Jule wieder auf den 16. Und was haben wir davon? 5 Tage weg, verloren, im Nirwana! Zeit, gestohlen von einem kleinen Spinner der nicht warten konnte, bis er seinen depperten Bogen bekommt."
Nun wollte ich meinen Bogen zwar dringend, aber dann doch nicht um den Preis, gleich Schuld an einer Verschiebung des Raum-Zeit Kontinuums zu sein. Ich beschloss also, dass es doch nicht so schwer sei  diese  5 Tage noch warten.
Ich wollte gerade wieder in den Sattel steigen, als mir plötzlich schwindelig wurde. Alles drehte sich und ich versank in einem schwarzen Loch. 

Als ich aufwachte, lag ich in meinem Bett. Der Medicus stand im Zimmer, gleich neben meiner Mutter und lächelte gutmütig während er das Fieberthermometer schüttelte: "Es ist schon besser geworden" sagte er. "Verabreichen Sie ihm weiterhin alle drei Stunden Essigwickel, dann kriegen wir das Fieber in den Griff."

"Dann war alles nur ein Fiebertraum?" fragte Anastasia, die gespannt gelauscht hatte.
"Der Ritt war real. Und der Schneesturm auch. Als wir nicht nach Hause gekommen waren, hatten uns unsere Eltern gesucht und fiebernd im Schnee gefunden. Wir mussten danach eine wirklich dicke Erkältung überwinden - und eine Strafe bekam ich natürlich auch aufgebrummt, weil ich Kathleen in Gefahr gebracht hatte mit meiner verrückten Idee. Trotzdem habe ich aus dem Erlebnis auch etwas gelernt, dass eben alles seine Zeit hat und man nicht versuchen sollte, den Lauf der Dinge auszutricksen."

Morgen geht es weiter bei Fehrian

dimanche, décembre 13, 2009

No snow

Nice and calm third advent today. I wasn't up in the attic today, since it is too cold. We had a couple of snowflakes, but not real snow.
I like the snow very much. It slows down the cars and brings this certain atmosphere of peace I enjoy so much. Hope, Gods will let it snow here soon, and long. After all, the Vosgian Mountains once where known for hard, snowy winter, as soldiers of WW1 and WW2 bitterly remember. The Elderly here tell stories on how deceased people couldn't get buried in Winter because the soil was too frozen. Later, the Vosgian Mountains became a well visited place for winter sports.  This is all gone now.
 In the 11 years I live here, I experienced 2, maybe 3 winters with snow for more than   a week. The rest is just this wet and cold in-between weather that sucks everybody. I'm a child of the middle-European Ice age heritage, I WANT snow! 
Fuck Climate Change.

I spent much time working on the Bête des Vosges Movie. I am still as passionated by this project than I was at the beginning, if not even more. It's so fascinating to see JFK acting in this haunting story and feel with all my senses how much he enjoys it

samedi, décembre 12, 2009

Further Memories

This morning I was again up in the attic / my future Room to clean it. And again, I found a couple of items that triggered a lot of memories. This time its a set of Photos I took almost 16 years ago of our cats. 
We lived on a farm in Germany then. The farm was alone in the forest and the next neighbor was a big estate one kilometer away. 

This Picture was taken in April 1994. It shows the stairs leading to the porch of the house. Above is the 11 months old Gribi, cleaning the head of his sister Pitschi. Since his early kittenhood, Gribi had the habit to clean the other cats. 

Gribi, on the same day.

In front of the house, the forest began. The cats went into it every morning. The big white cat is Oddy (Johnny Oddeye). I had him until the year 2000, when he died at the age of 16. Oddy was the best feline friend I ever had. It took me years to get over not having him anymore and I still miss him today.
To the left of Oddy is Pitschi and to the left of Pitschi is Lea, another sister of Gribi. We lost Lea here in France. One day she didn't come home again.
The cat in the background is Zazou. He died in 2005.

Oddy at the door and Pitschi on the stairs. 
It is so strange to look at these old photos with pets who have passed away long time ago, in a home we don't have anymore. In fact, Gribi is the last being, (except my mom and my Horse Hondo) who still share the memory of our German farm in the wild.

jeudi, décembre 10, 2009

Wonderful soundtrack

An hour ago, I received the first file of my Music Composer Wolfgang Mittendorfer containing the Soundtrack for the 2 finished Sequences of La Bête des Vosges.
I am impressed, overwhelmed and just plain happy about the result. It's simply fantastic. Full orchestral score and you wouldn't believe it's digitally made. WOW, THIS made my day!
It's so much of a difference if you just take some existing music for a film or if a real composer arranges a soundtrack that actually matches every action, emotion and atmosphere in your movie. 

I hope so very much that we will get somewhere with this project, I'd hate so see all that work and creativity done for just 3 copies of the DVD sold and the rest left for the basement to rot there. Here comes my business-counselor into play:  She said that she will work out a marketing plan for that work together with me, once it is ready. 
That is the difference to my Books and comics;  I am the only author.  If they don't sell well, at least, I am the only one concerned. Here, I have the Music Composer and the actors who spoke the dialogs who are in the same boat as me and I'd hate to disappoint them.

mardi, décembre 08, 2009

Give me a break

Back from Basel reloaded, in company with my mom this time. I'm pretty exhaust and looking forward to the days when hopefully, I just can leave the car where it is and stay home or go out cycling. But I still will have to go buying the Yule Tree, pay the power-bill in town and...go to the Vet with Pico.

We received a nice card from her telling us that he is due for the renewal of his rabies-vaccination.
Packing *that* cat into the carrier and drive it to the Veterinarian will be a challenge for my nerves, as usual. Sigh.

I make good progress with my film Projects. I am finishing Scene 25. Work goes on smooth and nicely.
Again, looking so much forward for calmer days. I have enough of all that driving and travelling and shopping  and administrative duties, such as the renewal of my health insurance and all that annoying stuff.

samedi, décembre 05, 2009


Yesterday I came back from the monthly  Trip to Basel. I left my mom there, because she has a visit at the doctor on monday. This means that I have to go back to Basel on monday too, to take her home tuesday. It would have been less stressful for me to just stay in Basel as well, but I had to come home feeding the animals, and especially, to take care of Gribi.
It was terribly cold when I arrived here, yesterday. The night encountered frost and I chilled in my bed. Today, I fired the oven like a maniac, and still had a hard time to warm up the room.

The day in Basel was a productive one, because I got an arrangement for the exhibit of my work in early Januray 2010 at...well, at the local Horsemeat store. I know it is pretty unusual and probably offending to some of my readers.
In  fact, I noticed that the store had paintings all over its back wall and some time ago I found the grit to ask the butcher, if he was the painter. He replied no, but that he shows different artists in a 6 month turn. I said hat I am an artist too and we agreed that I can have the next turn, starting next year.

So now, I am alone at home looking trough my originals trying to figure out which ones could appeal to the visitor of a butcher-shop.

I also received a copy of the analysis-report the business-counselor made about me. I received grades in different themes, such as "knowledge of business environment" where I received best, along with "skills at production". But I made least in the "commercialisation" departement. *whine*.
But all in all, it was a positive report.

jeudi, décembre 03, 2009


Cleaning the attic digs out a lot of memories. Some items dwell there after having been moved from the previous attic, where they went after years of rotting in the pre-previous attic... and so on. Most of these goods are stuffed in boxes and I forgot a long time ago what exactly they contain. Now I am forced to have a closer look on each object in order to dospose of them in a more definitive way. Inevitably, memories emerge, some of them more welcome than others. From the bad memories, embarrassing ones are the most hard to bear. The above picture shows one.

Its out of a hand made comic album I made back in 1980. Well, look at THAT crap!
I was 15 and convinced that I could draw. Unfortunately, everyone supported me in that idea, instead of advising me to take art-lessons. Otherwise, I probably would have made progresses far quicker than I did.
The Content of these obscure Comics is interesting tough, as they show what concerned me in that time. The stories are about a prussian cavalry soldier and a weird inventor who lives in a trash-bin. Their adventures relate a lot to the present I lived in and reflect the fear of a nuclear WW3 we all had back then. Pretty odd stuff.

mercredi, décembre 02, 2009


Finally, today was our Rhiannon celebration. I decorated the living room and dressed up the altar.
In the early morning I was in the woods, searching for moss and twigs to build the decoration for the Rhiannon-candle.

Rhiannon is a celtic Goddess. She is said to have once appeared riding on her horse on the lands of King Pwyll. He wanted to know who this unknown rider was and sent a servant to meet her. But she fled and the servants horse was not fast enough to catch up with her steed.
Pwyll then ordered his best rider to follow her,  but he didn't have more luck. Another man, riding on the best horse of the kingdom, also failed. King Pwyll then decided to engage the chase himself. He followed her a long time and when his horse was exhaust, he cried out loud and begged her to stop and wait for him. She stopped and said: "If you called me earlier, it would have been better for your horse." She said that she was in love with him and wanted to marry him, instead of another one her father wanted to marry her with force. Pwyll accepted.

There is another story telling that Rhiannon was falsely accused of murdering her son, but as a couple of sources say, this legend probably comes from christian times.
The original wedding story of Rhiannon and Pwyll is interpreted as the union of the King and his Kingdom, when majesty meets creativity. In the Celtic tradition, true Majesty only came trough the female principle. So Pwyll would need her sacrement to become a real king.
In addition to that and on a more earthy view, I'd say that the legend teaches men to just communicate with women, instead of trying to impress them with physical efforts alone. ;-)

I didn't know about Rhiannon, until I had dreamt of JFK saying to me that we should choose her day (2. December) as the remembrance day of our bond. Learning about her story made me understand why. If she stands for the "kingdom" and creativity, it is the kingdom of my artistic and creative life who meets its King, Pwyll,  who is, in my case, JFK.
I think, Rhiannon is a wonderful Goddess who teaches women to find her own ways. She is a free, fearless horsewoman who doesn't accept any domination over her.

Rhiannons Day marks the start into the time of the year when we all await the return of the light. A happy time of enchantment and expectations.

May the Blessings of Rhiannon be with all of you.

mardi, décembre 01, 2009

Back to normal

Gribi is better. The fact we stopped the Furozenol Medic helped him in the way that obviously, he hasn't nausea anymore. Of course, his heart misses that medics, sometimes he has a few minutes of hard-breathing, but I think that he suffers a lot less from this than from eternal nausea.
His disorientation is better, too. He meows when he awakens from deep sleep, because he doesn't recognize where he is in the first moment.
And he protests loudly when I leave the sofa to go working on the computer or elsewhere. But there, I can't put him to sleep just for being a little tyrant ;-)

I went on my regular visit at the doctor, too. He is satisfied with my blood pressure, but wasn' happy about me having lost another 8 kilos since the last time I was in his cabinet and on his scale. Funny, how I get less and less positive response for getting thinner. Some time ago, everybody admired me, now everybody thinks I became anorexic.
Well, I'm not. If it were for my upper body and legs, I'd stop dieting, because I'm merely skin and bones there, but I still have a "pillow" to get rid of at my belly and butt.
Being not so heavy can have advantages: It's less risky to work on my future room. The wooden floor there is so fucking rotten that some years ago, I broke right trough it, badly injuring my leg. That was when I weighed more than the double I do now. I didn't dare to go to that attic since then, not until my weight-loss. But even now, I feel the wood giving up under me at some places. I don't know how the worker we will hire for replacing the floor will do it, he's heavier than me. Hope he won't break his neck.
Tomorrow is Rhiannon - I'm so looking forward for it.

dimanche, novembre 29, 2009

No Minarets in Switzerland

The Result of this sundays Referendum in Switzerland could be a surprise and will - if the trend is steady - provide a lot more hot debates on the subject.
Despite what the previous polls suggested, the Proposal for a minaret-ban will be accepted by a majority.

This means that swiss governement is forced to outlaw minarets in Switzerland. This is probably not compatible with the constitution and also not with international treaties Switzerland signed.
Opposants to the Minaret Ban showed themselves disappointed in first reactions. One politician said that the attempt to persuade population hat minarets are nothing to be feared of and won't introduce Sharia in Switzeland, failed.

In my opinion, the problem is much more complex than this. The Classe politique simply failed to take the fears of the population seriously. It's so easy to put people under the "right-wing" label in order to avoid a deeper discussion upon their point. The fears from political Islam are real. They may be unjustified, exagerated, whatever, but still, they are there and real emotions. On a long term, it doesn't help to just repeat political correct statements and ignore people's concerns.
This ignorance was shown at the beginning of the campaign in a drastic way: The Poster (picture above) of the pro-ban side was prohibited in many swiss cities. It was considered as "racist" and therefore banned. The ban was seen by a lot of people as cutting the right of free speech - a thing political Islam would do, and therefore, taking away of the posters probably helped to keep away the minarets.

early sunday morning

I just went up, fired the oven and took Gribi out of his night-room, to give him his morning-medics. He is pretty calm, took his pills and juices and powders without struggeling and is now on the sofa, quiet and relaxing. What will the day bring? Will he be better?

Today, First advent, is for most of you the start in the Yule time, the day to start to decorate the house for the season. As I mentionned in previous posts, I am a bit behind you, because for me, First advent will only start at December 2, day of Rhiannon, the day of "JFK and me" (sort of a spiritual wedding-day). A day that will truly close the Passionszeit,  cleaninng the energies for Advent. I just can't wait for it and reading on all your blogs how you start into advent NOW, with your photos of wonderful deco makes me a bit impatient. But I WILL wait. ;-) - So all your efforts to weaken my will, is in vain ;-))

I just hope Gribi will be well, so that Rhianon day will not be tainted  - or even dropped if it comes real bad.
This sunday is also a special day for the Swiss people who will have to decide in a referendum on two hot topics: For one, a group asked that Minarets - these towers that are part of mosques should be prohibited. Read about it here.
There have been a lot off discussions in the Swiss Blogger Community about that subject.

Second proposal in that Referendum is whether or not Switzerland should stop to sell any kind of weapons to other countries. Well, this would make an end to the old tradition that swiss neutrality was first of all, selling canons to both sides...

The Results will be interesting. For those of you who understand German, here you can get the news updated. For French speakers:;tab=loadprogram;vid=11550951

I wish you a fine sunday.

samedi, novembre 28, 2009

Gribi again

Gribi is not well. We had to go to the Veterinarian with him yesterday late. Because he was constantly meowing and complaining.
The Diagnosis was again heavy nausea and a further decline of his cognitive capacities, meaning that he meows because of disorientation and fears due to mental disorder. She gave us a medic against the nausea and said we should stop the Furozenol, which is a heart medecine that is not good for kidneys and will cause nausea. Gribis greatest prolem is, that he has two diseases: Heart AND Kidney insufficiency. A medic against one issue unfortunately affects the other in a negative way. Only the Fortekor Medic is designed to help both organs. So Gribi is now only on Fortekor.

His nausea is better, but he starts to breath a bit heavy, which is of course due to his weak heart and the lack of Furozenol. Also is his serious disorientation still there. This may be caused by the lack of sleep he had because he suffered too much from nausea. It also may be an irreversible further decay of brain tissue.

It is heartbreaking to see him awakening every 3 minutes and loudly meow because he is "lost". Its a bit better when I sit next to him. It always was, but since yeserday it doesn't help as it used, he cries if I am there or not.
It is so difficult to let him "alone" (meaning: him on the sofa when I am at the computer 2 meters away) that I can't get any work done.  If he doesn't find back to a better state, I have to take a decision.

Nobody can imagine how horrible and difficult this is for me.

vendredi, novembre 27, 2009

My future new home

As I mentionned recently, The noise problemes are more and more hard to bear for me. Even tough they don't occur all the time of course, when they do, it's hell and I can catch up less and less with the stress caused.
I think that my decreasing tolerance is also partly due to my life circumstances. I don't have an own room. I Iive in the living room which has to be living room, office, working area, sleping room and dining room all in one - for me and my mom. But she, at least, has an own room upstairs where she can sleep and has her own space. I don't have an own space. Ok, the living room is pretty much decorated and organised according to my taste and needs, still, its not the same. There's no place for me to retire myself.
In past time, my living-rhythm  which included a nocturnal life during severald days each month, partially equalized this:  The night was mine. No noise, no calls and no disturbing. These nights provided me the necessary time of retirement and I could sleep the noisy day away.
Early this year, I gave up the nerdy lifestyle, finding a new, stable rhythm. I get up at 8:00 and go to sleep at 22:00 The time between is planned up to the minute. It has a lot of advantages, I am more productive. But I feel how the continuous stress begins to attack my deepest inner nerves, because I now don't have any own space anymore. The only thing left are my cycling tours, then I am free, all for my own. But it isn't enough.

This is why the need of an own room has become real urgent. Our house has more space than we actually can live on. It needs to be fixed. Upstairs, above the room of my mom's room, there is an attic, where I plan to install MY room. (See photos)
It needs a new floor, for the old one is rotten. It needs a window to be cut into the wall. It needs the walls isolated and covered. A lot of work - a lot of money will be needed. Still, I am determined to achieve all this during 2010. I really hope I can.

From now on, I will post about the progress here.

Very first step is cleaning the room. Since 11 years now, some of the furniture, books and a lot more out of my past dwells there, covered with dust and mostly destroyed by mice. Time to get that all out of the house, sorting into what I can keep, what may go on Ebay and what may go to waste. Will continue the wok tomorrow.

jeudi, novembre 26, 2009

Thanksgiving day

Our Thanksgiving Day was very fine. The Turkey really was tasty and huge enough to feed a Wolf pack. I wisely decided not to count the calories today, or it would had ruined the meal. Still prisonner of my anorexoid fears,  I am of course worried that the unusual load of energy will ruin my body and diet, of course, but I enjoyed todays liberty anyway.
The photo to the left shows the bird in question, after being cut...
The Cranberry sauce was...delicious.
Thanksgiving: Definitely an experience to renew next year.

In the morning, I went out on a cycling tour to the Etang des Cailloux. Its all wet and cold there now, But it did me good anyway. I took this photo of the quarry.

back to drawing-work now!

mercredi, novembre 25, 2009

Thanksgiving's Eve

Early this year, my mom expressed the wish that we should celebrate Thanksgiving. Now are we neither Americans, nor do we live in America, but since she was ready to commemorate all the "odd" holidays *I* actually added to our family tradition, it was nothing but fair to follow her ideas as well.

Thanksgiving is three things; Turkey, Pumpkin and cranberry sauce.

The easiest to get was the pumpkin, we already have a big one last from this seasons garden harvest. I like the idea of doing away with it on this occasion, because I don't feel like carrying that monster into the Advent time. Pumpkins are for autumn.
As for the Cranberry sauce, it was harder. Our two Cranberry plants are just planted and certainly will not yield any fruit this year.  Searching for finished Cranberry sauce was difficult. I tried a lot of specialty suppliers, Traiteurs and importeurs of foreign and exotic stuff, but no one had Cranberry sauce. One even said the me "if you want to eat american dishes why don't you just go to the next McDonald?". Okay, so american Cuisine isn't exactly at the fashion here.

I ended up finding what I looked for at Ebay. A glass with Cranberry Sauce finally was shipped to us - from the United Kingdom.

As for the Turkey, we ordered one at our local butchery who promised to have it ready for today. This morning tough, it wasn't. The butcher apologized and promised to bring it to our house this afternoon. He did came and now we have a magnificent 3kilo Turkey ready for the oven. We embalmed it with mustard and put it on the fridge.

We will see, if tomorrow I can put together some good Thanksgiving menue.

mardi, novembre 24, 2009

Days after

Now that November 22 is trough, I am restarting myself a bit. I look forward for December 2, the Celebration of Rhiannon and the time, I traditionally begin with the Advent decoration.

Looks like the storm we had will bring us much colder weather. Winter is coming, no doubt possible!
I did a lot of work, mainly on the films, but also on other projects. The Scene I currently draw on is a bit tricky and takes a lot of concentration.
I am pretty disappointed that Anime Studio's Support hadn't a better answer to my rendering issue than the assumption that my file aws to big for my system and therefore the latter did not render the avi in order to save memory. Well, if that would have been the case, than the same problem wouldn't had occurred on another file as well, much lower in size this time. What does it take to have a software company admit that their product has a bug?
Anyway, I have bypassed the problem in the meantime, but the presence of the bug itself doesn't make me confident for the future.

dimanche, novembre 22, 2009

This is the darkness, this is the flood

November 22

After a couple of sunny days, a rainstorm came over the land last night. It's rainy and windy. The sadness of the lonely sky in grievance ads to the heavy atmosphere of this day, the darkest in the cycle of the year.

JFK's assasination was 1963.
Therefore, he is now dead as many years as he was alive: 46 years.  Approaching this age myself, I get aware on how young this really is. Or, how fast time passes and how short our lives are.

I still remember the day when I was a little child and some guy came at our door to sell JFK memorabilia. My Grandma who usually never bought something at the door, took a memorial coin. all while talking to the seller, she wept. I id not understand a thing and - well -  had kind of hard feelings against JFK, because he made my Grandma cry.
In the eighties, a first wave of critical, yet anti-JFK journalism emerged. As the unhappy, angsty teen I was back then,  I liked to see "myths deconstructed".  However, the whole subject didn't interest me enough to get deeper involved.
In the early nineties, some of the deconstructed myths were deconstructed themselves and the world started to find the balance between canonizing JFK and portraying him as Satan.

I saw my first JFK assasination documentary on TV and felt slightly sorry for him.  In the late nineties, I added some of the subject to my comics. Only a bit. Still, it wasn't real interest.
It was at the End of 2000, when JFK entered into my life with a powerful step, not to say with all presidential authority. I spare you the details, because they are deeply spiritual and personal, but it surley changed my life in a fundamental way and still does. His influence goes far beyond my artistic work. I learned a lot from him.
Getting trough the Passionszeit and living this day under the painful assignment of his death is a price a pay gladly for all the gifts I receive  from him.

There is  a verse of the Cohen Song "Gipsy Wife" in my head;

"Too early for the rainbow,
too early for the dove,
these are the final days,
this is he darkness, this is the flood"

This is the way I feel on November 22.
The grief over John Kennedys assasination is one of the things that don't get better with time passing, but worse. It seems to me that this very particular moment - the final shot in his head -  created a peculiar singularity: The point in time and space when his life was suspended. Like a phonograph needle stuck in a record, different from that only in the way that what's repeated eternally, is silence.
This sudden suspension stays as it is, with all its horror and can't be altered by any means. The more time goes by, the more this aspect seems to enter in the foreground. For one, it's the pain of loosing his trail, as we grow older ourselves, our memory fading away as collective Remembering does.  All this while for JFK, it makes no difference if he is dead since two minutes or a century ago. It stopped to make a difference the  second he lost consciousness, the needle being stuck at this one moment, leaving his last cognitions for ever suspended in time and space.
A least, this is the perception we have, when looking at the singularity from outside.

Only the living of spiritual experiences that are as deep as they are utterly subjective and therefore hard to comminicate, can revise the awe of said singularity. By taking a leap beyond the point where the needle is stuck, we are able to see and hear the grooves that were never played yet. 
This leap is hard to accomplish, therefore I am grateful for every time I could do it, with the help of JFK.

Despite all of its duskiness, the verse out of the Cohen song above promises that "rainbow" and "dove" will come. To me, they will come on December 2, the observance of the celtic Godess Rhiannon, the day when I commemorate my bond with JFK, a day of light, love and joy, the beginning of advent for Yule.

A phrase out from a song of Jacques Brel also seems to fit: The cryptic "Quand les fils de novembre nous reviennent en mai". (When the sons of November will come back to us in May) It is out of "Mon plat pays" where he poetically describes his native land, flemish Belgium. Indeed, also for JFK we commemorate his departing in November and his birth (coming)  in May.

The fact that JFK's Life and its dates seem so much tied to the more universal rhythm of nature and the ever repeating Wheel  of seasons, growing, blooming and dying, ads a lot of Solace to everyone who, like me, is bound to this rhythm.
I don't know if it is true, but I once heard that a people in India restarted its Chronology after the assasination of a beloved leader. An interesting way to alter the singularity of Horror  by means of constructing a continuity after the moment of suspension, involving both, the living and the departed being.
So I am adding to the countless chronologies around the world my personal one.

Have a good start into the year 47!

samedi, novembre 21, 2009

Sixth day in the countdown for November 22

Saturday: Feet of John F. Kennedy.

Last day in our week entirely dedicated to JFK's Body and the thoughts all around the subject.
Again, I will present a photo instead of a drawing, because I am as bad in drawing his feet than I am with his legs. The photo shows JFK in a situation he probably enjoyed the most; all wet from bathing in the sea, his toes in the sand. He was not always this relaxed: His back problems and the fact that one of his legs was 2 centimeters longer than the other made a continous pressure on his feet during the years, slowly deforming them and make it harder to find good shoes. He wore special orthopedic shoes: cardigans, made of solid horse-leather.

As I said, drawing feet is not where I'm at best. Its okay when I can draw them with shoes an, but my naked feet mostly look clumsy and stiff. I should do more practicing.

And here we are at the end of this week. Tomorrow is November 22.

vendredi, novembre 20, 2009

Fifth day in the countdown for November 22.

Friday: Legs of John F. Kennedy.

I really don't know what to tell you about JFK's legs, except : Look at the photo to the right. This is why I don't add a drawing today, because I am simply not able to draw *these* legs in an accurate way. I tried, but failed. Poor talentless me.

It's funny hearing men praising "long legs" on women, because long legs are more typically a male attribute. Men have long legs, not women. As I said - just look at the photo.
My mom don't really like that picture. As a  veteran of the Woman' right Combat, she thinks that the whole pose is pretty macho: Him sitting on a far better chair and Jacqueline sitting behind and beyond him. I usually answer that she has the best place one could have in this universe, because her hand is right at his ass. Hey! Whaddaya expect more?
Jacqueline actually was a modern woman, more than any First Lady before her - but she also knew what her people expected from her function. I  think that the submissive pose is less due to the fact that he was the man, but more to the one that he was the president.
JFK himself was very open but he also took a lot of care to keep a permanent distance between him and the rest of the world. When becoming president, he insisted that even his closest friends had to call him "Mr. President". This is one of his typical dualities: One side of him was fellow-like, with baths in the masses, allowing petting and hand-shaking. The other side was more distant and dignified than most other presidents, admitting no one to be on the same level as himself.
Back to the legs...I really do not know what to tell more about them. Except that they are breathtaking. A pain in the ass to draw, an eternal challenge, source of joy and despair.

Tomorrow: JFK's feet.

jeudi, novembre 19, 2009

Front and rear

Fourth day in the countdown for November 22.

Tuesday: Waist and beyond of John F. Kennedy

We come to the body part that is mostly of special interest. For any artist with any muse ;-)  This entry will be difficult to keep decent.
Going down to JFK's Waistline, we can merely guess what's beyond his clothes. I have some photos showing hin im wet bathing shorts glued tightly to his body, revealing the shape of his behind. His cheeks certainly were well-built, neither too flat, neither too big, just right. Or in more simple words: He had a nice ass!
The front part is harder to guess. There are some obscure witnessing from people who claim to have slept with him. The description of his parts vary widely and seem to depend on wether or not the person left JFK in good terms.
The level of truth of these reports must be considered with a lot of care. As a biographer once said: "If all these stories are true, JFK spent more time having sex than he had days in his life."
What we do know is that he was circumcised at the age of 21. He obviously hated it and called the Mayo Clinic, where it was done, the "dirtiest hole on earth".

Still looking at the wet-shorts photos, especially when looking at them long enough, it suddenly seems possible to sort the folds into what's just fold and what's... well, you know. Maybe it's just my imagination. However. According to the impression received this way, I have reasons to assume that his intimate parts were as well proportionated as the rest of the body.
I drew him naked a lot of time in my stories. Even full frontal.  All while I have become more and more skeptic about the depiction of violence, I still believe that the rendering of natural nudity is nothing wrong or bad.

Tomorrow: JFK's legs

mercredi, novembre 18, 2009


Third day in the countdown for November 22.

Wednesday: John F. Kennedy's Chest

After his hair and his face, we are inevitably go down to the parts of the body that are usually covered with clothing most of the time. Still we have Photos of JFK in bathing shorts or just bare chest, so we know how he looked there.
JFK's chest was as well proportionated as the rest of his body. He lived in a time when a man wasn't asked to go to the gym in order to get over-muscled and therefore being seen as "handsome", "healthy" or whatever. His son, JFK jr. had a lot more the kind of "beach"-body later, typically required in the eighties and nineties for menfolk. So there is a nice comparison between the generations. Useless to say that I prefer the older one. To my feeling, steely arm-muscles, where the veins look trough the skin like kind of worms, are all but sexy.

Of course, JFK had chest-hair, a thing that is more and more seen as unsuitable or even gross, today. One can often read that chest hair and pubal hair were "at the fashion in the sixties". This is nonsense. People back then just were as they were, and simply nobody thought of doing some shaving on these body areas.  Therefore you can't hardly speak of a fashion, since a fashion would reqire some active practice. Today's practice of full-body shaving actually IS the fashion. A fashion that probably would have alienated the people in the sixties, including JFK.
I am not really into too much chest-hair, but JFK's is just fine, since it is limited on a pretty triangle, leaving the rest of the chest clean. Nice and easy to draw. Because drawing body hair is always a bit tricky. In most of the time, it lets the figure look "dirty". This is due to the fact that in proportion, the hair would be much thinner than the finest pencil line.
JFK's arms were not too, but pretty long and his hands rather big. His fingers were bony and definitely not frail. Only the size of the hand prevented them to look gross like the paws of a lumber-jack.

Tomorrow: JFK's Waist, Hips and butt.  (I know you ALL gonna read this one ;-) )