post last year.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Epsom Salt As Hair Volumizier
Christmas Tale
John pressed the power button of his 4-D materialize and the room of the small apartment where he lived for eight months and a half was populated immediately colored shapes. Meanwhile, the speakers, a soft voice repeating for the umpteenth time that year on the Feast of Icsmas no woman could help but that this perfume bottle in the shape of the horse's head, nor males of that watch wrist with eighty different programmable functions, including the possibility of ordering a cappuccino at a distance in his favorite bar and enter the room in sync with the service of the waiter at your table, just like the guy who was spending on advertising hours. Not to mention the new materialized in 5-D now that all his colleagues had already bought or reserved for some time and that he would remain a wet dream for who knows yet As. The day before, listening to the news that he spoke of the strange celebration in a small village in Colombia arretratissimo, for a moment he remembered that when he was a boy his grandfather told him that once the party was called "Christmas" and so was occurred for many years, until the media had suddenly stopped giving her that name and soon everyone had adjusted to the idea that the name of that day in late December could not be that Icsmas and that nothing was Icsmas the day of the year dedicated to gifts.
Yeah, the fact remained that there were only two days to the fateful date and he had no idea how he would get a gift for her. He had in mente una gran cosa, per carità, un braccialetto, un ciondolo con un brillantino o qualcosa del genere. Non voleva mica metterla in imbarazzo, in fondo con Paola si conoscevano appena. Lei aveva cominciato a lavorare alla reception appena un mese prima e in quel poco tempo si era creata una simpatia fatta di sorrisi, rapidi ma intensi sguardi e quelle poche parole scambiate al mattino prima di salire al piano dove si trovava il reparto vendite, quando usciva per la pausa pranzo e molto più raramente alla sera finito il lavoro, dato che lei cominciava molto presto e usciva sempre almeno un'ora prima di lui. Forse quella simpatia era solo uno dei suoi soliti castelli in aria, visto che non poteva sapere se si trattasse della normale cortesia di una nuova arrivata nei confronti dei colleghi più "anziani", però chissà. Magari invece anche lei non aspettava altro che un suo cenno, un gesto, un invito... Ecco, dopo averle dato il regalo magari l'avrebbe invitata da qualche parte per passare insieme l'ultimo dell'anno. Per una volta, lui che non faceva mai il primo passo, avrebbe tanto voluto buttarsi.
Quel pomeriggio maledetto, appena uscito dal lavoro aveva fatto un'attenta e meticolosa esplorazione dei negozi del centro per trovare un oggetto carino da portarle la mattina dopo, l'ultima possibilità che aveva prima della chiusura dei loro uffici. Era stato un fallimento totale. In ogni posto dove era entrato, anche l'oggettino più piccolo che potesse ritenersi degno della sua attenzione had an incomparable cost to the state of its finances. The scene was always the same: it supported the monocle in the eye of the recognition system and the lady looked a bit 'disgusted with the display but the usual deadpan voice so polite as saying: "I'm very sorry sir, but you do not have enough credits to purchase this product. " And he cursed the day he bought the damn electronic razor blades spinning at 15, he thought those days were supposed to go yet before you have your next paycheck and be able to finally return to feeling a consumer like everyone else and not a residual of shit with a scrub brush to remove the water that was more or less what best suited to the eye the cashier before.
Suddenly he remembered a spot of local advertising casually that he had seen the day before on the screen to lift the floor of his house, walked down the 43 floors that separated his apartment from the mainland. He spoke of a medical center near his home offering credits in exchange for blood donations. Yeah, because no one would dream of giving their blood for free to someone else, God forbid. Yet it is said that once people did it, who knows if it's true. Anyway, why not try? The next morning he would wake up very early and before going to work would be gone from that center. Then sprint to the store where there was that bitch the cashier, just to see how to change this time his face while doing the packet. And then always in a hurry to work, just in time for the last entry in the morning before they closed the turnstiles at entry. It went through that turnstile, you! Yes, she wanted her little surprise for Paola was the best moment of the day's work. It would not make her wait.
Imagine instead what was his surprise when the next morning, getting out of breath in the lobby of that buildin 'with her beautiful little bag in his hand, he saw that behind the reception desk there was Paola. Total disbelief and with glassy eyes at the edge of tears John turned to older colleagues sitting next to the empty desk asking explanations. "Paola has called this morning saying it is not," he said, "seems to have his father is very ill in hospital." For a moment he stood speechless, unsure what to do and completely incapable of thinking. Then he regained his lucidity, he did say if they knew which hospital he was and went to his head to feel that it would take a morning's permission. He already knew what it would itch, but that would go to hell! At that moment, John would not have stopped at nothing, not even in the face of a threat of dismissal.
acceptance of the hospital, where he gave out piteously for a grandson become infirm, she prayed silently that he remembered bene il suo cognome, ma per fortuna dopo una trentina di secondi che a lui parvero ore, l'infermiera disse che il paziente era appena uscito dalla rianimazione e che per ora c'erano solo i parenti ad assisterlo. Tuttavia, l'orario delle visite sarebbe cominciato tra dieci minuti e quindi se avesse avuto un po' di pazienza avrebbe potuto trovarlo al terzo piano stanza 33.
In quei dieci minuti si ripeté mentalmente almeno 150 volte la frase di circostanza che avrebbe voluto dirle per non sembrare inopportuno a presentarsi lì in un momento per lei così drammatico. La ripassò così bene che non appena se la trovò di fronte seduta nelle poltroncine di plastica della sala d'aspetto del terzo piano disse solo...
- Ciao...
She raised her head, revealing two terrible dark circles. He also managed to find her so attractive.
- Hello John ... What are you doing here?
Behold, I knew it! Figure of shit. Just the opposite of what I should do. And I do not have anything to say, shit, shit, shit ... He thought her to remove it from embarrassment.
- Have you been nice to come. (Bright smile) Think not that of my friends called me none. Bitches! Yes, one of them even sent me a message on your handheld to ask him how he was, imagine a messaggino! Too busy to buy those stupid gifts Icsmas ... John
instinctively hid behind the hand holding the package. She still felt pretty stupid standing there like a sausage in front of her, but now a bit 'less than before. Above all, she'd smile ... And he was about to pass out in front. Finally he managed to utter at least two words.
- But how's your father? What happened?
- now thankfully out of danger, but we are having really bad. Yesterday morning he had a car accident and had a deep wound to his leg. He lost a lot of blood and the doctors did not know how to do it because you know he has a rare blood type and blood banks could not find anything that was compatible ... Then the miracle happened this morning. They called the donation center and they said that just this morning a boy had presented early, practically at the opening, to donate blood and like a miracle, in fact, his blood group was just what my dad. Of course they knew that the hospital was waiting and brought here to ride the bags refrigerated for transfusion. The medical director said he would stand up to another hour, maybe less ...
- Really?
- Yes, I told you. I thought it was a supernatural sign. I know it's stupid to think so, but for a moment I thought a. .. But what have you? You are pale ... And then ... But are you crying?
- No, no ... Imagine ... um ... It 's just that I have done the stairs too much travel ...
- The stairs, but if you get in the elevator here in front of ... (Laughs) And that bag in his hand what is it?
- Ah, nothing remains of my breakfast ... Indeed, since here there is a basket ... By the way, what are your plans for New Year? 
John pressed the power button of his 4-D materialize and the room of the small apartment where he lived for eight months and a half was populated immediately colored shapes. Meanwhile, the speakers, a soft voice repeating for the umpteenth time that year on the Feast of Icsmas no woman could help but that this perfume bottle in the shape of the horse's head, nor males of that watch wrist with eighty different programmable functions, including the possibility of ordering a cappuccino at a distance in his favorite bar and enter the room in sync with the service of the waiter at your table, just like the guy who was spending on advertising hours. Not to mention the new materialized in 5-D now that all his colleagues had already bought or reserved for some time and that he would remain a wet dream for who knows yet As. The day before, listening to the news that he spoke of the strange celebration in a small village in Colombia arretratissimo, for a moment he remembered that when he was a boy his grandfather told him that once the party was called "Christmas" and so was occurred for many years, until the media had suddenly stopped giving her that name and soon everyone had adjusted to the idea that the name of that day in late December could not be that Icsmas and that nothing was Icsmas the day of the year dedicated to gifts.
Yeah, the fact remained that there were only two days to the fateful date and he had no idea how he would get a gift for her. He had in mente una gran cosa, per carità, un braccialetto, un ciondolo con un brillantino o qualcosa del genere. Non voleva mica metterla in imbarazzo, in fondo con Paola si conoscevano appena. Lei aveva cominciato a lavorare alla reception appena un mese prima e in quel poco tempo si era creata una simpatia fatta di sorrisi, rapidi ma intensi sguardi e quelle poche parole scambiate al mattino prima di salire al piano dove si trovava il reparto vendite, quando usciva per la pausa pranzo e molto più raramente alla sera finito il lavoro, dato che lei cominciava molto presto e usciva sempre almeno un'ora prima di lui. Forse quella simpatia era solo uno dei suoi soliti castelli in aria, visto che non poteva sapere se si trattasse della normale cortesia di una nuova arrivata nei confronti dei colleghi più "anziani", però chissà. Magari invece anche lei non aspettava altro che un suo cenno, un gesto, un invito... Ecco, dopo averle dato il regalo magari l'avrebbe invitata da qualche parte per passare insieme l'ultimo dell'anno. Per una volta, lui che non faceva mai il primo passo, avrebbe tanto voluto buttarsi.
Quel pomeriggio maledetto, appena uscito dal lavoro aveva fatto un'attenta e meticolosa esplorazione dei negozi del centro per trovare un oggetto carino da portarle la mattina dopo, l'ultima possibilità che aveva prima della chiusura dei loro uffici. Era stato un fallimento totale. In ogni posto dove era entrato, anche l'oggettino più piccolo che potesse ritenersi degno della sua attenzione had an incomparable cost to the state of its finances. The scene was always the same: it supported the monocle in the eye of the recognition system and the lady looked a bit 'disgusted with the display but the usual deadpan voice so polite as saying: "I'm very sorry sir, but you do not have enough credits to purchase this product. " And he cursed the day he bought the damn electronic razor blades spinning at 15, he thought those days were supposed to go yet before you have your next paycheck and be able to finally return to feeling a consumer like everyone else and not a residual of shit with a scrub brush to remove the water that was more or less what best suited to the eye the cashier before.
Suddenly he remembered a spot of local advertising casually that he had seen the day before on the screen to lift the floor of his house, walked down the 43 floors that separated his apartment from the mainland. He spoke of a medical center near his home offering credits in exchange for blood donations. Yeah, because no one would dream of giving their blood for free to someone else, God forbid. Yet it is said that once people did it, who knows if it's true. Anyway, why not try? The next morning he would wake up very early and before going to work would be gone from that center. Then sprint to the store where there was that bitch the cashier, just to see how to change this time his face while doing the packet. And then always in a hurry to work, just in time for the last entry in the morning before they closed the turnstiles at entry. It went through that turnstile, you! Yes, she wanted her little surprise for Paola was the best moment of the day's work. It would not make her wait.
Imagine instead what was his surprise when the next morning, getting out of breath in the lobby of that buildin 'with her beautiful little bag in his hand, he saw that behind the reception desk there was Paola. Total disbelief and with glassy eyes at the edge of tears John turned to older colleagues sitting next to the empty desk asking explanations. "Paola has called this morning saying it is not," he said, "seems to have his father is very ill in hospital." For a moment he stood speechless, unsure what to do and completely incapable of thinking. Then he regained his lucidity, he did say if they knew which hospital he was and went to his head to feel that it would take a morning's permission. He already knew what it would itch, but that would go to hell! At that moment, John would not have stopped at nothing, not even in the face of a threat of dismissal.
acceptance of the hospital, where he gave out piteously for a grandson become infirm, she prayed silently that he remembered bene il suo cognome, ma per fortuna dopo una trentina di secondi che a lui parvero ore, l'infermiera disse che il paziente era appena uscito dalla rianimazione e che per ora c'erano solo i parenti ad assisterlo. Tuttavia, l'orario delle visite sarebbe cominciato tra dieci minuti e quindi se avesse avuto un po' di pazienza avrebbe potuto trovarlo al terzo piano stanza 33.
In quei dieci minuti si ripeté mentalmente almeno 150 volte la frase di circostanza che avrebbe voluto dirle per non sembrare inopportuno a presentarsi lì in un momento per lei così drammatico. La ripassò così bene che non appena se la trovò di fronte seduta nelle poltroncine di plastica della sala d'aspetto del terzo piano disse solo...
- Ciao...
She raised her head, revealing two terrible dark circles. He also managed to find her so attractive.
- Hello John ... What are you doing here?
Behold, I knew it! Figure of shit. Just the opposite of what I should do. And I do not have anything to say, shit, shit, shit ... He thought her to remove it from embarrassment.
- Have you been nice to come. (Bright smile) Think not that of my friends called me none. Bitches! Yes, one of them even sent me a message on your handheld to ask him how he was, imagine a messaggino! Too busy to buy those stupid gifts Icsmas ... John
instinctively hid behind the hand holding the package. She still felt pretty stupid standing there like a sausage in front of her, but now a bit 'less than before. Above all, she'd smile ... And he was about to pass out in front. Finally he managed to utter at least two words.
- But how's your father? What happened?
- now thankfully out of danger, but we are having really bad. Yesterday morning he had a car accident and had a deep wound to his leg. He lost a lot of blood and the doctors did not know how to do it because you know he has a rare blood type and blood banks could not find anything that was compatible ... Then the miracle happened this morning. They called the donation center and they said that just this morning a boy had presented early, practically at the opening, to donate blood and like a miracle, in fact, his blood group was just what my dad. Of course they knew that the hospital was waiting and brought here to ride the bags refrigerated for transfusion. The medical director said he would stand up to another hour, maybe less ...
- Really?
- Yes, I told you. I thought it was a supernatural sign. I know it's stupid to think so, but for a moment I thought a. .. But what have you? You are pale ... And then ... But are you crying?
- No, no ... Imagine ... um ... It 's just that I have done the stairs too much travel ...
- The stairs, but if you get in the elevator here in front of ... (Laughs) And that bag in his hand what is it?
- Ah, nothing remains of my breakfast ... Indeed, since here there is a basket ... By the way, what are your plans for New Year?
Saturday, December 18, 2010
What Is Discharge Like Before Menestration
Exactly at this moment, sto finendo di inchiostrare le 24 tavole de: "Il Dono." Questo lavoro è sia, con molta probabilità, il mio lavoro di esame, ma anche il primo capitolo di sei, di una storia più lunga che vorrei proporre in giro.
Ok, basta.
Questa è la prima tavola nele sue tre fasi.
Matita.
China. 
Colore. (photoshop)
Il progetto sarebbe idealmente in black&white, ma ho comunque provato, dato che sto imparando la colorazione digitale adesso, a colorarlo. é giusto dire che il risultato finale non è tutta farina del mio sacco... sono stato fortemente aiutato in fase finale da Antonio, my prof, who has improved the lot of all. But I'm learning all his tricks eh!
Hope you enjoy!
hello
Ps this table was stained on a mac .. but now that I took on my old pc the colors look a lot darker ... this is to say that the original colors will be seen well on the screens Apple signed.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Japanese Kimono Cloth Doll
They are coming!
no, not true ...
these guys are just Extras (for now, then who knows) that appear in a vignette of the comic on which I'm sweating in qusti days. qadesso the place because I got half eSATA work!
the theme will be based on which the story seems clear to me, but also some surprises in store!
soon (hopefully) new details!
beautiful! 
no, not true ... these guys are just Extras (for now, then who knows) that appear in a vignette of the comic on which I'm sweating in qusti days. qadesso the place because I got half eSATA work!
the theme will be based on which the story seems clear to me, but also some surprises in store!
soon (hopefully) new details!
beautiful!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Eye Contacts Shuringan
something about ... Mary
hello!
last night I was at Ligaria and I attended a great concert! at the end of the show, a joke between me and the other was asked to write a review on the event, which I did when I came back home!
find it here !
go see it and also take a look at the blog, there you will find some interesting things!
ps the next post will be a preview of the tables Cuio I'm working at this time! are slow fuck, lentooo! 
hello!
last night I was at Ligaria and I attended a great concert! at the end of the show, a joke between me and the other was asked to write a review on the event, which I did when I came back home!
find it here !
go see it and also take a look at the blog, there you will find some interesting things!
ps the next post will be a preview of the tables Cuio I'm working at this time! are slow fuck, lentooo!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Will Mice Get Into Plastic Tubs
What is culture?
Last week, my son twelve years old asked me: "Dad, but you need to study history?"
confess that at first I had to think a lot 'to give a convincing answer, and even after, in retrospect, I do not know if I could lend credibility to my thought that no one can divide the life (and thus its culture) in compartmentalized and therefore each piece is important to build their thinking, but also know that Cardinal Mazarin, Richelieu's successor as Prime Minister of France, was actually Italian, not French as many people think that believing in the history books is the French name Italianate Mazarine when it is done exactly the opposite, or rather than the word "salary" derives from the fact that ancient Roman soldiers were paid in kind, and very often with salt (hence "Salarium" indeed), who was among the basic necessities most appreciated.
confess that at first I had to think a lot 'to give a convincing answer, and even after, in retrospect, I do not know if I could lend credibility to my thought that no one can divide the life (and thus its culture) in compartmentalized and therefore each piece is important to build their thinking, but also know that Cardinal Mazarin, Richelieu's successor as Prime Minister of France, was actually Italian, not French as many people think that believing in the history books is the French name Italianate Mazarine when it is done exactly the opposite, or rather than the word "salary" derives from the fact that ancient Roman soldiers were paid in kind, and very often with salt (hence "Salarium" indeed), who was among the basic necessities most appreciated.
What is certain is that today's schools does nothing to help the kids understand why it is important to increase their culture by linking the various pieces and especially encourages them to establish concrete links between what they study and their everyday life, much less this task is fulfilled by the mass media, which in fact create continuous dystonia in the younger generations by proposing models based solely on the concept of use and consumption, possibly rapid, instilling in them the concept that everything has more than 10 years is outdated and therefore useless. Not that everything in the recent past was different, mind you, but it is certain that more progress the world (now we can not even say "the West", since our models so-called "advanced" we have exported anywhere in China have their work cut McDonald's on the corner and the Wii in the living room home instead of books) and, paradoxically, less importance is given to knowledge and cultural diversity at least in the eyes of those who govern us, given the importance that is given to their protection. E 'of the news last week that Italy is last among the EU countries in the percentage of public expenditure devoted to the culture (0.2% of total), but that others are more virtuous of us, do not think .
To close, because I'm lucky to have young readers on my blog, I'd like to ask a question of who from the school (primary and secondary objectives but also thinking about the university's speech might not be too different) is released recently, or still hangs in there. Have you ever had a teacher in your classroom in the middle of his lecture will ask, "and what do you think?". Well, I asked my son and the answer was no.
desolate, no.
I think this "no" says it all alone, without the need to consider what I wrote earlier.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Buy Desert Eagle .50 Canada
for you ...
After much hiding, I want to dedicate a post to the person who is at the center of my thoughts ...
Rather than a real post, this is a series of words. I did not know how to turn them over, they did not want to be together, like when you make a dough for a cake and the ingredients they do not want Read amalgamate. I finally had to resign and just knock them down, one above the other ... Can be found below.
ask me everything but I did not ask for anything
at this moment I can not be less sad than it looks
acted in the brain prior to use to not think about what will come out from my mouth
if I have finally reached the end of my concerns then why does my head tells me I'm still alive?
have a body riddled with holes to fill ... to see them all, just two eyes are not enough.
Monday, November 1, 2010
How To Make Silican Giantcup Cake
Lucca 2010
this Lucca does not feel like talking, except to say that it did not go well, it hurt, it normally.
the above picture is a clue anyway.
thank you once again (for the last time I swear) Ivan and Mary Magdalene!
to the next. 
this Lucca does not feel like talking, except to say that it did not go well, it hurt, it normally. the above picture is a clue anyway.
thank you once again (for the last time I swear) Ivan and Mary Magdalene!
to the next.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Swing Set Blueprints Free Swing Set Blueprints?
a site that everyone should know
I now come from Blog Donatella , where yesterday she has updated with a post about his health after being admitted to the emergency which is was forced to submit to her eating disorder.
The news you already read you even if you go that way, not good nor bad, are the same as that could give any person who is in her condition, which is in the hands of doctors and with the hope (which is also mine) that while the rebuild as soon as possible. If nothing else, his fortune is to be in un ambiente a lei familiare, visto che l'ospedale dove si trova è lo stesso in cui lavora. Ma mi accorgo che sto replicando le stesse informazioni che trovate anche sul suo blog, oltretutto cose che lei sta provando sulla sua pelle e che mi sento inadeguato a raccontare io, anche perché non è questo che volevo fare.
Mentre scrivevo l'ennesimo commento al suo post, facendole capire quanto vorrei esserle vicino e poterle trasmettere un po' di forza, mi è balzato davanti agli occhi il commento di un'altra sua lettrice, Mia Wallace (spero non si offenderà se la cito qui), che segnalava un sito web dove reperire informazioni su tutti i centri medici/ospedalieri e le associazioni a livello dealing with national treatment and care of the eating disorders . I thought that for once I could not even simply to write because I'm closer now that is so bad, to send virtual hugs and wait for the next update ...
I thought that something as important as the existence of this web portal perhaps needs more emphasis. Perhaps the only one who was unaware of the existence of a site like this and maybe are also the only one not to know that this site is done tremendously well and for once the public money ( the site is made by the Ministry of Health) has been spent as it should be!
Perhaps ... precisely.
But if not, then it would mean that there are other people like me (not sure Mia, and I thank him and I certainly do not take credit for having done so first the alert) that they knew that there was a so simple, straightforward information with a detailed and easy to use search engine to find the nearest hotel to you, the one with the features that seem most appropriate, as well as lots of other data, documents, help for those who literally " does not know how to get on "(I was one of them and when I are found to seek help for a friend with the same problems, I really wish someone tells me immediately that there was such a chance).
Here is the link to invite you all (those who suffer, but also those who are close to those who suffer) not to give up a visit to get help at any level you want it to do:
Perhaps not even the first who reported this site here on the blog world (I think people like Veggie, Michiamomari, or others that I follow and whom I respect for what they are doing to help girls in trouble). Certainly I would not be the last doing it. In fact, if you can I suggest we call it even in your blog or anywhere else you think is useful to do so has greater visibility and at least everyone knew existed. Then, as always, it's up to us to decide whether they want to help us, but the important thing is that we feel disoriented as I was when I did not know where to turn.
If I can, I try also to make a banner or something to spread on blogs. Will update soon.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Poem To Ask For Money As A Shower Gift
surreal situation ...
... you are ever happened?
Let me explain ...
About a week ago I received a call from my friend and colleague Terry, asking me if I want to take him to an exhibition of comic Monza circuit, where he would perform in the drawing along with other authors, including leather Ponticelli, in front of the stand Passengers. I obviously jumped into the car and take off in the first showers in the evening of a flood that would have made it impractical Milan ... but oh well. We arrive racetrack without much difficulty, we lose a couple of times in seeking fair and then we meet all drawing on a patchwork of boxes.
Initially I was standing there as a moral supporter, but the desire to design soon took over and I cornered the two narrow sides of the wall of canned goods.
Well ... because it surreal? 
... you are ever happened?
Let me explain ...
About a week ago I received a call from my friend and colleague Terry, asking me if I want to take him to an exhibition of comic Monza circuit, where he would perform in the drawing along with other authors, including leather Ponticelli, in front of the stand Passengers. I obviously jumped into the car and take off in the first showers in the evening of a flood that would have made it impractical Milan ... but oh well. We arrive racetrack without much difficulty, we lose a couple of times in seeking fair and then we meet all drawing on a patchwork of boxes.
Initially I was standing there as a moral supporter, but the desire to design soon took over and I cornered the two narrow sides of the wall of canned goods.
Well ... because it surreal?
And I will say, "Actually I do not know well neither do I. ..."
the circuit will have been half empty if not for the space dedicated to the fair, has been The torrential rain that fell throughout the day, it has been for the new experience of "perform" in the design supported by talented designers with people going and makes you a lot of pictures, or have been the cold cutlet sandwich.
What I mean is that it was a wonderful experience that has satisfied my hunger a little sick to this world, and I want to thank Terry, Christian, Alberto and all the other designers with whom I shared. Also I invite you to go see all the photos on the event, where obviously you will find the work of other artists, can be found here .
Trust me, it's worth it!
(as I speak ultimamente...)
Monday, September 20, 2010
Native American Wolf Symbolise
Sometimes They Come Back ... Colin Farrell
Era da un po' di tempo che pensavo che m'avrebbe fatto piacere cimentarmi su dei personaggi vecchi. E con vecchi intendo dire anche di quando ero alle medie o alle elementari.
I n questo caso si tratta di una dea della pioggia che se non mi ricordo male si chiamava Lemia; l'avevo ideata per un racconto dai toni fantasy durante il primo anno di liceo. Aveva di particolare il fatto che l'acqua, trattata da lei, appariva come un sottile telo di velluto, che però si disfaceva e rifaceva in continuazione, creando mondi particolari ecc ecc. Si, da piccolo i viaggioni me li facevo eccome...
Era da un po' di tempo che pensavo che m'avrebbe fatto piacere cimentarmi su dei personaggi vecchi. E con vecchi intendo dire anche di quando ero alle medie o alle elementari. I n questo caso si tratta di una dea della pioggia che se non mi ricordo male si chiamava Lemia; l'avevo ideata per un racconto dai toni fantasy durante il primo anno di liceo. Aveva di particolare il fatto che l'acqua, trattata da lei, appariva come un sottile telo di velluto, che però si disfaceva e rifaceva in continuazione, creando mondi particolari ecc ecc. Si, da piccolo i viaggioni me li facevo eccome...
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Can A Health Card Be Id At The Casino?
rulez
This work was commissioned to me by my friend Mob, singer Colin Farrell, punk band from Milan. Their album, "Are not serious", would be released shortly, and I was asked to work on the cover, which I did very willingly. I posted here almost all the steps that led me to the final result, which, however simple, has satisfied both me and the band!
first drafts of ideas (there was a third but I posted that I did not like ...)
selection and review to china
design to the back of the album
final result! (The idea of \u200b\u200bthe black circle behind the figure, such as the graphics were designed by Mob, I would say, very apt) 
This work was commissioned to me by my friend Mob, singer Colin Farrell, punk band from Milan. Their album, "Are not serious", would be released shortly, and I was asked to work on the cover, which I did very willingly. I posted here almost all the steps that led me to the final result, which, however simple, has satisfied both me and the band!
first drafts of ideas (there was a third but I posted that I did not like ...) 
selection and review to china 
design to the back of the album 
final result! (The idea of \u200b\u200bthe black circle behind the figure, such as the graphics were designed by Mob, I would say, very apt)
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Customize My Own Buckle
A drop
Hello people!
Today I place this story of the most Kafkaesque of Italian writers (though I read that he hated be compared to Kafka, who knows why? Or maybe you understand very well ...).
In any case, I hope you like it as it pleased me!
Happy late summer to ... And
PS one last thing: with Enigma and Fighter we are organizing a meeting (apparently in Milan, but is not yet 100% sure) for Sunday September 19 . An excellent opportunity to meet (and in some cases review) so many people I met here on blogger!
On our blog (mine and that of Eni and Fighter) will be soon the details of this appointment that can not miss!
A DROP (D. Buzzati)
A drop of water goes up the steps of the staircase. you feel it? lying in the dark, listening to his mysterious journey. How does it do? Jumping? Tick, tick can be heard intermittently. Then the drop will stop and perhaps for the remainder of the night There is no longer alive. However salt. From step to step is up, unlike other drops that fall perpendicularly into compliance with the law of gravity, and eventually make a little pop, well known throughout the world. This not: gradually rises along the stairwell letter E the immense tenement. Not that we, adults, refined, highly sensitive, to report it. But a servant of the first floor, dingy little ignorant creature.
noticed it one evening, late, when everyone had gone to sleep. After a while, 'he could not restrain himself, got out of bed and ran to wake the landlady.
"Madam," he whispered, "Sir!"
"What?" became the mistress of collection. "What?"
"There is a drop, lady, a drop that comes up the stairs!"
"What?" asks the other in amazement.
"A drop that goes up the stairs!" repeated the servant, and almost began to cry.
"Go, go," swore the lady "Are you crazy? Marsch Back to bed! You've been drinking, the fact here is shameful. It 's a novel that is missing in the morning, wine in the bottle! Ugly dirty, if you believe ..."
But the girl had already escaped rincattucciata under the covers. "Who knows what the mind will never jumped on that stupid," thought the lady then, silently, having already lost sleep. And involuntarily listening to the night that dominated the world, she heard a curious noise. A drop up the stairs, positively. Jealous of the order, the lady thought for a moment to go out and see. But what ever could have found the miserable darkened light bulbs, hanging from the railing? How to trace a drop at night, with that cold on-ramps dark?
In the following days, from family to family, the rumor spread slowly and now everyone knows the house, although they prefer not to talk about, how silly of which, perhaps, be ashamed. Now many ears are strained in the darkness when the night fell to oppress mankind. And who thinks of one thing, some another. Some nights
drop silent. Other times, for long hours does not make that move, up, up, it seems that we should not stop. Flying hearts when a tender hand seems to touch the threshold. Just as well, and not 'stop. Here it goes away, tick, tick, going upstairs. So the positive side of the tenants' mezzanine think they are now in secure. The drop - they believe - has passed in front of their door, or will have more chance of disturbing them, while others, such that I'm on the sixth floor, now have reason for concern, not more of them. But who says that the drop in the coming nights will resume the journey from the point where he reached the last time, or rather not start over from scratch, starting the journey from the first steps, always damp and dark of abandoned rubbish? No, not even they can be considered safe. In the morning, leaving the house, if you look closely at the scale is never a trace remained. nothing, as expected, not the smallest footprint. On the morning of those who take more rest this thing seriously? In the sun the morning man and 'strong,' a lion, though a few hours before stunned. Or that those dell'ammezzato are right? The rest of us that had not heard anything and we kept free from even a few nights we hear something. The drop is still far, it's true. We get only a faint ticking, faint echoes through the walls. However, it is a sign that is rising and is getting closer. Even sleeping in a room inside, away from the stairwell, not needed. Better to hear the noise, rather than spending the nights in doubt whether there is or not. Who lives in those rooms sometimes answers can not resist, slips quietly in the corridors and stands in the ante-Frost, behind the door, breathing pending hearing. If you feel, no longer dares to leave, a slave of indecipherable fears. Worse, however, if all is quiet: in this case as a rule, which just returned to bed, just not then restart the noise?
What a strange life, then. It claims it can not do, or groped remedies, or find an explanation that melt the soul. And not even being able to persuade others of the other houses, who do not know. But then what would this drop: - demand with infuriating good faith - perhaps a mouse? A toad came out from the cellars? Not really. And then - they insist - that would be the case for an allegory? One would like, so to speak, to symbolize death? Or some danger? Or the passing years? Not at all, gentlemen, is simply a drop, just coming up the stairs. Or more subtly means represent the dreams and visions? Cherished and distant lands where it is assumed happiness? Something poetic words? Absolutely not. Or even the most remote places on the border of the world, which never comes? But no, I tell you, no joke, there are no double meanings, question, alas, just a drop of water, as far as we assume, that at night comes up the stairs. Tick, tick mysteriously, from step to step.
Today I place this story of the most Kafkaesque of Italian writers (though I read that he hated be compared to Kafka, who knows why? Or maybe you understand very well ...).
In any case, I hope you like it as it pleased me!
Happy late summer to ... And
PS one last thing: with Enigma and Fighter we are organizing a meeting (apparently in Milan, but is not yet 100% sure) for Sunday September 19 . An excellent opportunity to meet (and in some cases review) so many people I met here on blogger!
On our blog (mine and that of Eni and Fighter) will be soon the details of this appointment that can not miss!
A DROP (D. Buzzati)
A drop of water goes up the steps of the staircase. you feel it? lying in the dark, listening to his mysterious journey. How does it do? Jumping? Tick, tick can be heard intermittently. Then the drop will stop and perhaps for the remainder of the night There is no longer alive. However salt. From step to step is up, unlike other drops that fall perpendicularly into compliance with the law of gravity, and eventually make a little pop, well known throughout the world. This not: gradually rises along the stairwell letter E the immense tenement. Not that we, adults, refined, highly sensitive, to report it. But a servant of the first floor, dingy little ignorant creature.
noticed it one evening, late, when everyone had gone to sleep. After a while, 'he could not restrain himself, got out of bed and ran to wake the landlady.
"Madam," he whispered, "Sir!"
"What?" became the mistress of collection. "What?"
"There is a drop, lady, a drop that comes up the stairs!"
"What?" asks the other in amazement.
"A drop that goes up the stairs!" repeated the servant, and almost began to cry.
"Go, go," swore the lady "Are you crazy? Marsch Back to bed! You've been drinking, the fact here is shameful. It 's a novel that is missing in the morning, wine in the bottle! Ugly dirty, if you believe ..."
But the girl had already escaped rincattucciata under the covers. "Who knows what the mind will never jumped on that stupid," thought the lady then, silently, having already lost sleep. And involuntarily listening to the night that dominated the world, she heard a curious noise. A drop up the stairs, positively. Jealous of the order, the lady thought for a moment to go out and see. But what ever could have found the miserable darkened light bulbs, hanging from the railing? How to trace a drop at night, with that cold on-ramps dark?
In the following days, from family to family, the rumor spread slowly and now everyone knows the house, although they prefer not to talk about, how silly of which, perhaps, be ashamed. Now many ears are strained in the darkness when the night fell to oppress mankind. And who thinks of one thing, some another. Some nights
drop silent. Other times, for long hours does not make that move, up, up, it seems that we should not stop. Flying hearts when a tender hand seems to touch the threshold. Just as well, and not 'stop. Here it goes away, tick, tick, going upstairs. So the positive side of the tenants' mezzanine think they are now in secure. The drop - they believe - has passed in front of their door, or will have more chance of disturbing them, while others, such that I'm on the sixth floor, now have reason for concern, not more of them. But who says that the drop in the coming nights will resume the journey from the point where he reached the last time, or rather not start over from scratch, starting the journey from the first steps, always damp and dark of abandoned rubbish? No, not even they can be considered safe. In the morning, leaving the house, if you look closely at the scale is never a trace remained. nothing, as expected, not the smallest footprint. On the morning of those who take more rest this thing seriously? In the sun the morning man and 'strong,' a lion, though a few hours before stunned. Or that those dell'ammezzato are right? The rest of us that had not heard anything and we kept free from even a few nights we hear something. The drop is still far, it's true. We get only a faint ticking, faint echoes through the walls. However, it is a sign that is rising and is getting closer. Even sleeping in a room inside, away from the stairwell, not needed. Better to hear the noise, rather than spending the nights in doubt whether there is or not. Who lives in those rooms sometimes answers can not resist, slips quietly in the corridors and stands in the ante-Frost, behind the door, breathing pending hearing. If you feel, no longer dares to leave, a slave of indecipherable fears. Worse, however, if all is quiet: in this case as a rule, which just returned to bed, just not then restart the noise?
What a strange life, then. It claims it can not do, or groped remedies, or find an explanation that melt the soul. And not even being able to persuade others of the other houses, who do not know. But then what would this drop: - demand with infuriating good faith - perhaps a mouse? A toad came out from the cellars? Not really. And then - they insist - that would be the case for an allegory? One would like, so to speak, to symbolize death? Or some danger? Or the passing years? Not at all, gentlemen, is simply a drop, just coming up the stairs. Or more subtly means represent the dreams and visions? Cherished and distant lands where it is assumed happiness? Something poetic words? Absolutely not. Or even the most remote places on the border of the world, which never comes? But no, I tell you, no joke, there are no double meanings, question, alas, just a drop of water, as far as we assume, that at night comes up the stairs. Tick, tick mysteriously, from step to step.
And because we are afraid.
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