I'm sorry I never healed the way you wanted me to heal

"mended but not healed"

just for fun?

I found a penciled sketch of this little bugger when I was fighting against the Mighty Pile Of Sketches who has made a permanent home at the corner of my desk and refuses to leave no matter how many clumps of paper full of hasty drawings and stupid ideas I rip out of its rotting flesh and throw in the trash bin. I have no recollection why I had drawn this, and then it occurred to me that this might be one of those rare pieces done in those silly little moments full of those naive thoughts that I might be able to draw something just for fun. Fun? I know that drawing just for the fun of it is totally lost for me, I can't get it back no matter what. Or maybe if I stopped drawing for at least a decade, lose all my artistic endeavors and never did another commissioned job for anyone. Maybe after that, I could draw something just for the fun. Maybe.

Thinking all this, I loosely threw some inks over the sketch and remembered how drawing was fun when I was ten and I was drawing superheroes and stuff. Now days I love drawing, I enjoy it, I can't come up with many other things I'd rather do professionally, it's basically the one thing I'm any good at. I have nothing else. But somehow it isn't fun anymore. Maybe it's meant to be this way, you have to lose the fun if you're going to do something seriously. Fun is being replaced with hate, frustration, unrelenting self-criticism and aim for perfection. It's hard. Harder than it was when I was ten. And even then I was a little bit frustrated that I couldn't draw the way I saw the images in my head. And I still can't.

Anyway, I like the way the tree branch came out, there's a nice sketchy touch in it, a very rare thing in my usually rigid inking. Maybe I try the same for some serious drawings. But thank you, my little horned friend, you made me remember something I hadn't thought for some time.

we are growing apart

"we are growing apart"

exhibition

"Broken"
March 1 - March 21 2010, Kouvola Art Museum, Kouta Gallery.

Go check it out if you happen to be in the neighborhood.

inks and pencils

Some work in progress.

Stam1na - Viimeinen Atlantis

I did graphic design and illustrations for Viimeinen Atlantis, a new album from Stam1na. The album went straight to number one on Finnish charts (selling by the way more copies than HIM, who also released their new album at the same week.)
Besides the normal jewel case, there's also two other versions of the album to which I also did the graphics, a Special Edition ( a 32-page book) and a gatefold LP. Both versions have sequential art, which I illustrated. I'll post pictures of them later, here is the jewel case:

















































A great project, great people to work with and what is most important, great music.

work in progress

Here's something I've been drawing. First one is going to be an illustration for my exhibition poster. Still trying to figure out the name for the exhibition. Names are hard, especially names that should represent a whole bunch on pictures, not just one. I do have a lot of bad names though, they are really easy to come by. But the good ones, they are still hiding.
Names and words. Words to describe pictures... one reason why I even draw pictures is that I don't have words for certain things; they must be shown, not explained. But I do have to say, that I kind of hate that when a piece of art is given such a fascinating name as "untitled 1" or even more captivating "untitled 2".







































This is usually the point where I lose my interest. Or here the most fun part ends. I got the pencils almost done and when I should start inking and coloring the pictures, I just start drawing something else. Finishing something doesn't intrigue me as much as the part of the process where I don't know what the outcome will be. Somehow you're always losing something, when things find their final shape. They become just one thing instead of being an endless amount of possibilities. The dreaming ends and all there is left is a reality which is bound into a one crippled form.