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Little Max and The Wow Factor

Little Max was a lonely boy. He’s father was a very successful business man and his mother was always on parties or having tea with her friends; because of that little Max had to be by his own most part of the time. Sometimes by night his mother went to his room and gave him a night kiss, but that didn’t happen that often. His father never touched him because he thought that would make him weak and stupid.

Little Max didn’t have any friends, or anybody to talk to, except his toys and sometimes Mrs. Kwiatkowski, his tutor. She was a loving lady who always smelled like wild flowers and was very fond of Max, almost like if he were her own child. One time his terrible uncle Robert told him that she was paid to love him. That made Max felt very sad indeed. He asked Mrs. Kwiatkowski if that was true and she said in a calm voice “That’s not true at all, my little mouse; you know I love you dearly”. Max knew in his heart she was telling the truth.

Little Max was quite a normal child, but he had a big secret not even Mrs. Kwiatkowski knew: every time he made a story it came true, the characters in it became real. This could be a great thing, but there was a time when his room was full of his friends that he had to make a story about how happy they all lived in a place far from there and how they could come and go through a small door he drew on the floor.

The way his secret worked was like this: he create the character, which little by little started to take form and colours, then, when was completed, he said “wow” and the character started to move and be alive, but not any “wow”, it has to be a magical one, a real “wow”.





This days I feel hungry, hungry for sex, hungry for love. I'm not ashame to feel like that,  just are human emotions. I could find somebody to have sex with (boring), masturbation (boring). I don't have wet dreams though and I don't feel horny either, is complicated, every thing is, isn't?

I can't sleep at night, no, I'm liying, I do sleep, I can't rest and in the morning I feel so tired and during the day I feel sleepy. By night I'm awake and not tired at att, but I have to go to sleep and is all over again. Damn!

I've been watching movies, silly movies, some good, some bad. Sundays movies with pop corn and ice tea. If I were a movie star I'd love to make a movie with you, if I were a porn star I'd let you be the movie director.

Foxboy and empty words


Latelly I been saying I'm on strike, and I am, kind of, at least my mind is. I can't seem to make even a regular drawing. I have nothing to say, no ideas to draw or paint. I'm going to take a brake.

I wish I could be a writer or a poet, but I'm not. A photographer maybe.

The other day I finished "FoxBoy". I think he is cute, but it looks much better on real life. I should get him framed before something happens.

I just read "Pet Sematary". It was ok, not too different from the movie... or the movie wasn't too different from the book. As the Ramones said: "I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary, don't want to live my life again". I wish we have one here, not like the one in which they come back, I mean a "normal" one, hehehe. It have happened to me that one cat dies and I have no place to bury him or her. It would be nice a place like that. I buried one of my cats under the apple tree in my garden. Maybe I'll take her out and clean her bones... would  that be too creepy?

Running dry


I'm starting to feel like I'm getting blocked, artisty blocked I mean.

I have 10 canvases and now I don't know what I'm goint to pain. I was thinking about making a oil serie of imaginary friends, could be interesting.

The moleskine company bought me one of my moleskines. They asked me to give them one for some publisity they're going to make, so I get 200 euros and two weeks of non sleeping. I sent it on saturday so it will arrive today (or tomorrow).

I have to work on my entries for the moleskine exchange. I'm in two groups now but I'm really excited about one in partucilar 'couse I'm going to work with Szaza.  We have been writing to each other for the past 2 weeks (I think). She's an incredible artist and a very nice person. Thing is, I don't know what I'm going to make for the moleskines and I was looking forward to work with her and now I'm dry of ideas :(


Now I know what my next tattoo is going to be: and ouroboros, so I have to design it. I was thinking about a medieval one, but I'm not sure about it.  A long time ago I asked to the guy who makes the tattooes that if he could teach me how to make them and he said yes... I'm going to ask him again. Now that I don't have to go to school I have plenty of time to learn :D It will be awsome!!!

Piedra, papel o tijeras


Sometimes I'm sick of my own face. Is there and everybody else can see it, but why should I see it all the time? But there are sometimes when I see it and I don't recognize it, is somebody else's face. I look at it deeply, I see the eyes - deep brown, the lips - like a duck's mouth - the nose... I like my nose, but still is not my nose and not my lips, my eyes, eyebrows, etc. I ask to that person looking back to me at the mirror "who are you?" She asks the same to me. No response.

I never draw myself how I really am. Is me, yes, minus this, minus that. "Artist's license" is called, pure self indulgence I call it.

I'm selfish, yes and I have my egotheque of self portraits. I'm the only one there willing to be drawn, and my cats of course.

And now...

Today is Monday.

Monday and I already feel like I'm skiping classes, but is not true. These are the first days of my life, my real life out there. I still don't know what to do - my thesis, yes -.

I haven't got any reply from the girl of moleskine. Should I start to worry? Maybe not, maybe I should continue working and wait to see what's going to happen.

Yesterday I got the scketchbook from Chris and I have to make my portrait for the
moly x portrait1. Is going to be exciting to work with such amazing artist from all over the world.


One Day

There are somedays, like this, when I feel so tired about so many thing. I'm out of school, I have to make future plans, even though there's always the chance of not surviving the next day, weeks, years and so on; but still have to make planes about everything.

I feel sleepy and I'm not going to bed, not yet. My eyes are half open - or half close - and my back is hurting me. I feel the apathy growing inside me, the void. Is strange.

I was angry, I felt like that. First it was a big joke, but soon I realized that the joke was on me - like a cheesy Bee Gee's song (I hate that one by the way) - . Now I'm not angry, still is not funny, but I don't feel anything about it. 

Still I wonder how can somebody say that my work is breathtaking and some time lather that didn't like it that much.

How stupid am I to let myself get in that situation.


Lady Orlando

Lady OrlandoLady Orlando

Journal page.


 Since I was a child I wanted to use clothes from another times. I have never done it, but I hope someday I will.

I been trying to write things in my journal, somehow it seems that the image is taking more and more place in it. The writing thing is been kept aside. Even if I try to write things down I can't get away from draw - like this - . My idea was to make a full writing with loads of detailes about loads of things and maybe, maybe a little image. But I started to draw. First my nose, the eyes, the mouth, when I realize the drawing was too big it was too late. The image had take all the page for itself. I added a little bit of writing, too little if you ask me.

I been reading latelly. While I was in Toronto last year my friend Anne lent me a Jeanette Winterson book - Lighthouse keeping - I read the book in three days. I found her writing very easy, for me - because english is not my first language - , but  not only easy, it stayed in me, her words, like some stories I've heard when I was a child, or maybe I told myself before going to sleep. I had to ordered by amazon. I need to have it, keep it close to me - maybe everybody has a little bit of the girl Silver in us - . Now I'm reading 'Oranges are not the only fruit'. It has become my new addiction. I had forget about reading for so long. I wans't in the mood for it and now things has changed. I want to read more, to know about things, maybe to write my own - why not? - . I don't watch tv latelly. It bores me to death. Sometimes I watch a movie. I have tons of movies I haven't seen here in my house, the list is long and is growing every weekend. I like to buy movies, art films, whatever. Sometimes I want to watch a light movie with a light plot, and then is when I think 'why I don't buy non art films?. Anyway there are two books I'm waiting and I will buy the Umberto Eco book this week, which makes me really happy. I still don't know if I want to buy 'history of beauty' or the uglyness one

I'm sitting here, writing, waiting, were are you? 

Is time for me to go to sleep now. I wish I could stay longer - should I wait? - I'm not sleepy, thought, I know you would be upset because you don't want me to be awake so late.


Journal 1

Journal 1

My journal
Journal 1 

 Yesterday coffe with my dad and Lluvia en el Europa - ¿dónde más? -. We were sitting there having fun, talking about... nothing, actually. I wanted to draw what I was drinking so I drew *image*.

This is one of the things I never done before amd I have to admit that ita was a nice experience, of course at certain point the waitress took away my cup so I had to drwa it by memorie -obviously, otherwise it would be more detailed.

-What's all about?

I found a list about 100 ideas - las cuales no son 100 sino 95, decía la página 'work in progress' - Is a list Keri Smith wrote. Creí que sería buena idea hacer algunas de las cosas listadas ahí.

Keri Smith's 100 ideas - but they really are 95! - *image*

This would be my #4 in the list. I didn't had a proper dinner yesterday and the Chai Tea was the last thing I drank or ate.

Encerré en un círculo esa parte, así sabré qué llevo hecho y qué me falta.

I see ghosts and shadows

It's been a few days I feel sad. 

The weather changes in my city and somehow reflects how I feel - is not only raining in the outside but in the inside aswell -.

I sleep all day. I should go to school but I don't feel like to. I don't want to seat and listen all over, again the stupid things the others have to say about this or that artist; they get overwelmed by something that has no meaning -how wonderful, how bizarre minds they have -. But I sit there anyway, quiet like a mute person. I don't like to be asked.

I'm not doing anything good nor anything bad. 

I see ghosts and shadows.

Keep thinking 'good I'm not suicidal', but what that really means? To be sad, to avoid feelings is not being suicidal too? And the sleeping issue? is it too?

I just read a list of a 100 ideas Keri Smith wrote  http://www.kerismith.com/funstuff/100ideas.htm . I should do some of the things listed in there. Maybe I could do 10 in a day... how am I kidding? two, maybe three tops. I only have one of the 5 moleskines I got as a reward for the London book fair. I should use it as a journal. Is one of the big ones for drawing  - scketchbook -. I don't like to feel like a need to make beautiful things for my journal, as sometimes I'm not a beautiful person at all, and I really need to write things down again. The typing thing is like too cold to me, impersonal at certain point. I'll try to make a bilingual journal... all this sounds grate. I know I might not do it anyway