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



   

<< August 2005 >>
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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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Sunday, August 28, 2005
Dead elk

I just came back from visiting my mum today. When I was staying with her, I revisited the dead elk calf that I had photographed back in spring.



Thanks to many hardworking animals, the corpse has now been reduced to some bones, hairs and green gook spread across the hill.












The jaws.

Posted at 10:12 pm by turukhtan

 

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