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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Thursday, May 27, 2004
This blog starts resembling a 'dream diary', or 'sonnik' as the Russians call it.

Last night, I dreamed that I was the mother in a big Gypsy family. At first, myself and my husband were riding a horse cart in the countryside, trying to sell some things that we had produced to the local farmers. I don't know what kind of things it was, but the farmers didn't like us, and kept chasing us away. At one farm a man took out a rifle and shot holes in these things that we were trying to sell, and warned us that he would shoot holes in us, too, if we didn't leave immediately. Well, we left, of course, and decided to go home, without having sold anything.
The horse cart somehow changed into a train, and we were on our way home. We didn't buy any tickets, just in case there wouldn't be any conductor checking the tickets. You could buy tickets in vending machines on the train, anyway, so when a conductor eventually came, we pretended that we had just gotten on the train and were just going to buy the tickets there.
After leaving the train, we had to walk a long bit until the house where we lived, and part of the road went along the sea. We stopped on the shore to sit down and have a smoke, and there, my husband told me for the first time, even though we had been married for many years, that he could control the weather through magic that his grandfather had taught him. He showed me how he did it, and created a beautiful sunset. Then, he said that he sometimes worked for a secret government agency that used his skills. I wasn't sure if I should believe him.
Our home was the former shared toilet in a large apartment house. Nowadays, the other apartments had gotten their own toilets, and the landlady had generously let our poor and homeless family move into the former toilet, as no one would allow us to move in anywhere else, although there was plenty of empty apartments. It was rather cramped for us and our five children, but we kept it neat and tidy. At this point, I saw the dream from the perspective of one of the family's daughters, instead. We were preparing to go to bed, since we all had to get up early next morning, but the landlady came and knocked at the door and wanted to speak with us. My father went to talk with her in the corridor, and we could all hear how the landlady told father that other tenants had been making a long list of complaints about us and wanted us to move out. Then, she started to tell him that we should be thankful that we were allowed to live here, and that all she expected was a little bit of respect, etc. I said to my mother, that it wasn't really our fault that we had to live here in the former toilet, was it?
Meanwhile, the tenants of the apartment next to us were having a big fight. They had been drinking alcohol all day, and now the man had thrown out his wife. She was only wearing a bathrobe, and was staggering around in the corridor knocking on other people's doors, screaming and crying. The landlady completely ignored this commotion, and just kept complaining to my father about us and how much noise we made. The drunk woman then tried to come into our room, and at first I tried to shove her outside again, because she scared me. But my mother said, that no one else cared about this woman, and she didn't want her to stay the night in the corridor, let alone go out in the streets. So, she led the woman to our table, gave her coffee and talked with her. I suddenly understood what my mother meant, and I also sat down at the table and gave her the advice that she should leave her stupid husband as soon as possible ...

Posted at 6:30 pm by turukhtan

 

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