Tinet is a cartoonist, illustrator, letterer, graphic designer, editor, translator and pig-keeper.



Other parts of Tinet's internet presence are, for instance:

The main website



Another blog



The Blog of Swine



Chirayliq



and some photos on Flickr



   

<< May 2004 >>
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Favourite entries

Photography:
¤ Mum and Ainur were visiting
¤ Sunny Saturday
¤ Cheap thrills
¤ Labour Day
¤ Definitely no Sergei Elmgren III
¤ Mum was here
¤ Nordens ark
¤ Cool weather today
¤ Piggies in my bed
¤ Black & white
¤ Two collages
¤ Bankhar mä!
¤ Lilac skies
¤ Kickass industrial sites
¤ Mayday
¤ Views from Pankow and a backyard
¤ Kugelblitz & cuddly 'street art'
¤ Shameless exploitation of workers and communists
¤ Berlin, Berlin
¤ Cuteness
¤ More Berlin
¤ Ouch, my feet ...
¤ Frosty collage
¤ Another fine old house hits the dust
¤ Horror and pigeons
¤ The smooth sides of houses
¤ Streets of Lund 2006
¤ Hungry for Hills
¤ Skärhamn
¤ Foggy sun
¤ Furry puppies
¤ Snow and a sleeping little baby
¤ Around the railway tracks in Lund
¤ The moon
¤ Lund in October
¤ The steaming sea
¤ Misc. scenes from Orust
¤ Territorial disputes
¤ Road Trippin'
¤ Sergei's tail
¤ Yellow
¤ The sleepy kingdom of Princess Mitsu
¤ A house, graffiti and a rook
¤ Green
¤ Feather canyons everywhere
¤ Sky and earth
¤ Misc. perspectives on Orust
¤ Mushrooms
¤ Fauna
¤ Flora
¤ A window
¤ Green landscapes
¤ My babies
¤ Dead house
¤ Dead elk
¤ Views on our home
¤ Pictures from a spontaneous cycling tour
¤ A parking lot in Malmö
¤ Twilight sky
¤ A once nice house
¤ Serpieri, the flying pig
¤ Yukata madness
¤ Rundown allotment garden
¤ Bristly!
¤ Furry!
¤ Home
¤ Dead animals
¤ Ängavallens gård
¤ Gothenburg
¤ One of the 2-3 pictures that actually came out perfect
¤ Where animals travel to their death
¤ Winter in Kävlinge
¤ Orient and Occident - blurry concepts!
¤ My baby is such a tease
¤ Eggs are interesting
¤ Here's the wuffie!
¤ The Carpathians
¤ Anti-kitsch
¤ Sunset over Kävlinge
¤ My cuddlymunchkins
¤ Streets of Lund
¤ Food

Dreams:
¤ Elephant digging up old bones + a burglary
¤ MSU in my subconscious
¤ Bad puppy
¤ The mansion
¤ A dream of menstruation in Sin City
¤ My dreams are so nice sometimes (aka Russian Policewoman)
¤ Desperately trying to reach MGU
¤ Blood, devastation, death, war and horror dream #6
¤ Family life
¤ Dreams, bloody dreams
¤ I need a sword
¤ Tony Blair & Lenin haunt me

Stuff:
¤ My thoughts on the presidential elections in France
¤ Just google it! - Nana version
¤ Meat has it all
¤ The amazing world of Swedish copyright laws
¤ Anna Politkovskaya
¤ It's about time we all get out and vote for love!
¤ Bilal's Nikopol vs. Moore's Promethea: Being possessed by gods and forced to have sex in comics
¤ Tinet's kitchen of pain
¤ The hymen is an evil MYTH!!!

¤ Gouache
¤ Pigasso paintings
¤ The Light comes from the Right
¤ Some kind of Valentine
¤ 2006 - a card and a snow Mitsu
¤ Serilda
¤ Standing on eggshells
¤ Mmm ... surströmming
¤ Rudolfo from the rapeseed fields
¤ The freedom to not choose
¤ Red China Comics
¤ Till alla svenskjävlar som inte klarar av att sätta komma i ert eget språk
¤ The Kostroma Elk farm
¤ The boob diaries part 4 - conclusion
¤ The boob diaries part 3
¤ The boob diaries part 2
¤ Breast cancer can be fun
¤ Why can't I wear a skirt and still be one of the guys?
¤ Garlic update #2
¤ Garlic update
¤ EU garlic is no good against vampires.
¤ I want to learn Maltese!
¤ Dirty men in the public library
¤ The marvels of life #4637
¤ My new life as a one-armed bandit
¤ Severiina exposed
¤ Severiina - a tale of an obsession
¤ On drawing techniques
¤ TschöRmen
¤ I might be going insane.
¤ 15 reasons




Some favourite blogs:

artifex
Baci dalla provincia
Кладовка
Saunahoney
Yellow Peril







Nyt on yö.
Minä kuljen yksin
tyhjiä katuja.
En tiedä, mihin olen menossa,
hyvä kun tiedän mistä
olen tulossa,
ja ruumiissani
soi tuhat kaunista ja
voimakasta sävelmää,
minun koko menneisyyteni,
ja silmissäni loistavat
tuhannen ihmisen silmät,
silmien takana tuntemattomuus,
tätä naista ei tunne kukaan,
se ei ole vielä täysin syntynytkään,
ei kukaan tiedä
mitä se on tulevaisuudessa.


- Mirka Lattunen



Necuvintele

El a întins spre mine o frunză ca o mână cu degete.
Eu am întins spre el o mână ca o frunză cu dinţi.
El a întins spre mine o ramură ca un braţ.
Eu am întins spre el braţul ca o ramură.
El schi-a înclinat spre mine trunchiul
ca un umăr.
Eu mi-am înclinat spre el umărul
ca un trunchi noduros.
Auzeam cum se încetineşte sângele meu suind ca seva.
Eu am trecut prin el.
El a trecut prin mine.
Eu am rămas un pom singur.
El
un om singur

- Nichita Stănescu



Kunst ist nicht ein Spiegel, den man der Wirklichkeit vorhält, sondern ein Hammer, mit dem man sie gestaltet.

- Karl Marx



The Hermit’s Song

A hiding tuft, a green-barked yew tree
Is my roof,
While nearby a great oak tree keeps me
Tempest-proof.

I can pick my fruit from an apple
Like an Inn,
Or can fill my fist where hazels
Shut me in.

A clear well beside me offers
Best of drink,
And there glows a bed of cresses
Near its brink.

Pigs and Goats, the friendliest neighbours,
Nestle near,
Wild swine come, or broods of badgers,
Grazing deer.

All the gentry of the county
Come to call!
And the foxes come behind them,
Best of all.

To what meals the woods invite me
All about!
There are water, herbs and cresses,
Salmon, trout.

A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey
Are my meat,
Heathberries and Whortleberries
For a sweet.

All that one could ask for comfort
Round me grows,
There are hips and haws and strawberries,
Nuts and sloes.

And when summer spreads its mantle
What a sight!
Marjoram and leeks and pignuts,
Juicy, bright.

Dainty redbreasts briskly forage
Every bush
Round and round my hut there flutter
Shallow, thrush.

Bees and beetles, music-makers,
Croon and strum;
Geese pass over, duck in autumn,
Dark streams hum.

Angry wren, officious linnet
And black-cap,
All industrious, and the woodpecker’s
Sturdy tap.

From the sea the gulls and herons
Flutter in,
While in upland heather rises
The grey hen.

In the year’s most brilliant weather
Heifers low
Through green fields, not driven nor beaten,
Tranquil, slow.

In wreathed boughs the wind is whispering,
Skies are blue,
Swans call, river water falling
Is calling too.

- Unknown old Irish poet








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Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Dreams, bloody dreams

I was a naughty girl of maybe twelve of thirteen years, who teased everyone and made all kinds of pranks at the expense of others. I lived in a small village surrounded by woods.
There was a blond boy in the village who I knew was in love with me. I thought he was kind of interesting, too, but mostly in the sense that it was so much fun to play with his feelings. For instance, I would pretend I liked this other boy in the village (who, according to this dream, was none other than poor Aeron in his younger years), and stand with him in the schoolyard, kissing and hugging, while looking over to the blond boy who loved me every once in a while.
One night, I decided to dress in a white bed sheet and pretend to be a ghost, scaring people who happened to still be on the roads at this late hour. I passed by the house of my blond lover, and considered throwing stones at his window and then scaring him. But then, I spotted a woman walking on the path leading into the forest, and decided to try scaring her, instead.
I snuck up behind her, and then shouted loudly "BOOOOO!" while waving my bed sheet. But when she turned around, I could see it in her eyes that she was a crazy woman.
She had a long, sharp knife in her hand. I tried to run away, but she had already grabbed me, and she stabbed the knife deep into me so many times that I couldn't count them, and then I was already dead.

Then, I had another dream.

I was one of the pupils at a very large Russian boarding school. The building that housed the school was ancient, dark and decayed. Girls and boys, of course, went to separate classes and lived in separate wings.
My class had just come out from the swimming hall. Two friends of mine were heading to the toilet, and I joined them. The toilet in the main wing of the school was enormous like a waiting hall at a train station. Indeed, there were wooden benches in long rows, where you could sit down while waiting for a booth to become vacant. All of the booths were by all means not occupied, but in many of them the toilet bowl was stuck with loads of toilet paper and dirty water was running out of it. Yet others were completely soiled with shit, piss and menstrual blood. And when I tried to open another booth, the door wouldn't open completely, although there was no one inside. I could just glimpse that heaps of green tarpaulin and undefinable, smeary chequered blankets were packed on the floor around the toilet bowl, preventing the door from being opened.
Since all toilet booths that could be used appeared to be taken, we sat down on one of the benches and waited. In the other half of the hall, we could see the boys' toilet, and watched giggling as the boys were playing in there and running after each other, while a teacher tried to make them stop. Then, I noticed some teachers and police men that were doing something in the section of benches between the girls' and the boys' toilets. I couldn't see properly, but they were bending down and trying to lift up something.
More teachers and policemen came to the scene, and slowly they were able to get a grip in the thing and heave it up from the floor between the benches. And the higher they lifted the thing, the more obvious it became to me that it was the dead body of a very big man, who was completely torn to shreds by stabbing wounds, from which the blood trickled out as they lifted him.
I froze in shock, and couldn't help but keep staring at the monstrous scene of the mutilated corpse covered with blood. By and by, other pupils started to notice it, and when they started to scream in terror and knock each other over trying to run out of the toilet hall as quickly as possible, I was finally able to break my haze, and I ran out with the others, away from that thing, but I could not get its sight out of my eyes.

Posted at 7:23 pm by turukhtan

bubu
May 29, 2004   08:10 AM PDT
 
puukolla voi kutitellakkin... pistellä ja kiusata ja terän välähdyshän on aivan IHANA!!!!
Name
May 23, 2004   10:08 AM PDT
 
Yep!
Amir
May 20, 2004   09:06 AM PDT
 
Straaaange dreams. You have a passion for knives. The most horrible weapon ever made!
 

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