the thunderous sound of broken dreams

There is a certain sense of liberty that comes with the thunderous sound of a dream braking. Of course  it doesn't come solo. There is also disappointment, shame, anger, remorse, bitterness and other fantastic feelings that make you feel like shit.

You may have wasted years wishing for a certain thing to realize and maybe you were always just one step away but after a certain amount of time you had to accept defeat. That's it you, lost.  No need to be shy about it.You are a loser. Maybe with a capital L maybe not. Nobody really cares. Nobody but you

What is it that really upsets you? Is it really not being able to live your dream? Is it not actually living your fantasy? But no reality is better than fantasy.Certainly while pining pathetically over your ''perfect situation'' you deliberately left out some inconvenient details. Your fantasy involves moments. The moment you get the Oscar, the moment you get the boy, the moment you get revenge.In that fantasy you never thought to include the before and after time. The fact that no matter who you are or what you have achieved your life to you will always feel mundane.

Maybe what is bothering you is defeat. YOU can not lose. YOU can not be that person. really? And why not?Were you born with a neon sign over your head that said ''will always get my way no matter what'' ?Well if you were then i can understand your distress. but if you belong to the 99,9% of the other half then welcome to the real world. the world where everybody gets screwed over, stepped on, bypassed and fucked up.Shit happens. Yes to YOU too. No special reason it happened to you, no you're not the chosen one.It just did.Randomly.

Is it that you believe that if you had done something differently things would have gone your way? Probably.But you weren't smart enough to realize it at the time were you?

Is it that you believe with the certainty of death that that was your only chance to happiness? Well ... i think that this is where most of us get stuck. But in reality every time you wish for something you do not wish it for your self at that moment. You wish that it will happen to your future self, a gall or boy you know so well as to be certain he will be deliriously happy when the moment comes. Actually and using those dreams that did come true as a reference, the feeling isn't that extreme at all. it is good, great, maybe fantastic but after a short, very short time, we start dreaming about something else.

So what is so bad about broken dreams? Nothing really because above all the unhappiness there is the sound of freedom.The freedom to dream a new dream.To dream a better one. To relive all the moments of  carefully planning your strategy, the butterflies in your stomach, the exhausting climbing of the steps to were your dream lies, the indescribable feeling of battles won. There is no certainty that this new dream will come to life, after all most of our dreams don't, but we have a great time pursuing them don't we?

So what i say to all of us that are living on a mountain of shuttered dreams is  that this is what makes us human. This is what connects us all together. The pain of losing and the will to carry on.

an exagerated compliment

just a  draft

The other day  i was trying  to design a poster for the new play i wrote. i wanted it to have a vintage feel, something simple, minimal yet mysterious and with some sprinkles of  danger. when i finished my first draft i send it to a friend  to get a second opinion and he said it reminded him the posters of Saul Bass. the name didn't ring a bell at first but when i Googled it understood who he was! he was that fantastic graphic designer that did all those classic film posters i always admired!
Personally i don't think my poster has any actual resemblance to his bold hand cut style but i guess there is a similarity in the use of color and the clear lines. it seems  my subconscious had worked in my favor for a change.
 
It was an exaggerated compliment of course,since i don't claim to bee even close to match the high level of  Mr Bass's skills, but it felt good anyway.
its nice to have people around you that are willing boost your ego..haha
here are some the classics Bass posters.

here is a also very cool book (i am definitely buying) about his work. Amazon.uk link
and  i found out the only children's book that he illustrated is being reissued Amazon.com link

How the fuck am I supposed to be creative?

For the last two years I have watched my country being sold, ridiculed, wrongly used and accused. i have watched my friends and relatives lose their jobs, their hope, their future. I have seen people searching in the trash for food. I have walked in streets full of homeless people. I have been scared to walk alone at night. I have watched drug addicts multiply. i have secretly wished all the immigrants would vanish and then felt bad about it I have been tear-gassed, chased and bullied by the police. I have watched the propaganda TV.

I have been told that my being poor would bring tourists to my country. that I should pay rent for living in my own house. that I should pay more and more taxes and if I cannot pay them I should give my house to the state. That if the wages fall to nothing we would all have jobs, that selling our electricity, water and railways would benefit me, that building concentration camps for the immigrants would make me feel safe. I have been convinced I am too immature to have a referendum. I have been convinced this is a legal government, I have been convinced this is all my fault.

For the last two years I have been scared, angry, mentally raped, sad and hurt .

For the last two years I have been watching us lose our freedom.

I try to remember my country as it was when I was growing up. i try to take pleasure in the little things. I try to read and educate my self. I try to love my friends more. I try to make simple plans for the future, I try not to worry for my daughter's future, I try to give up my dreams because they hurt too much, I try not to give up my dreams because it hurts even more.

Most of the time I feel trapped. Unable to leave and impossible to stay. And most of the time I ask my self: how the fuck am I supposed to be creative? 

a place to think

this is my park. it is not really  mine but i go there every day. i walk and i think. i think and i walk. i sit, i read, i play with my dogs, i drink my coffee, i watch the ants with my daughter, i dream, i write, i get organized, i go there when i am sad, i go there when i am happy. i have seen it in the winter i have seen it in spring,

 sometimes friends come,most of the times i am alone, i find shells of snails and i take them home,

 i know all the dogs that go there, i have seen people cutting trees, i have seen others plant them, i have planted my own...it died

 sometimes annoying people pass through with their motorcycles, most of the times its quiet,it nothing special , i have seen prettier

but it is my little piece of heaven

up close and personal

this is my house and its full of my weird artwork.i kind of feel safe surrounded by them. i guess that with the passing of time they will multiply and eventually i will be buried under them. happy thoughts. LOL..

frame those postcards i say !

here are some photos i took of my framed postcards.i tried to create an interesting situation for each one. it took me forever but i think they came out really good. afterwards i used a fantastic online photo editor called Picknik.easy to use and great filters. i loved to 60's one. hope you like them.

my frog prince

just finished my new illustration inspired by the brothers Grimm frog prince fairytale.i always loved that story!hope you enjoy