One week later

I feel rusty updating only once a week - but it's only becouse the things i do during the week .. i can't show yet. The game is taking A LOT of time.
All the writting i do is dedicated to that story. I hardly have time to draw.
I got back on a movie project i started a year ago - it's comming out nice.. but.. slow.
On the photo side... well.. here i can update.
This weekend i had a great assistant. I will post some photos Radu made but only after we get together for the processing.
In the meantime - here are some of my shots.

model: sascha

And one from the last week shooting made by my friend Dan Melinte.

Weekend's Work...

Lately almost every weekend i'm booked with shootings.
This is a selection of shots from Saturday. I got time to process them as the Sunday shootig was postponed next week.
(finding out about the delay resulted in a long night out for me where i drank all the money from the shooting with my friends)
What am i working for again ???


This is Ana - she wanted some outdor photos.







And this i Adela - my agent - who's present at all my shootings.
If you want some photos you should talk trough her.





and the two:

Remains of the day...

I hardly have time to sketch anything these days. It gets me furious - so i had to slip somthing trough today.
It's not much but damn it feels good to draw.



ref from a photo i took not long ago.

LiveLiquify

Trying to explain what Photoshop Liquify does...


I'll set up a beter tutorial... once i loose my teeth.

Captures 1

I will not be able to keep this clean and fresh.
As Whitaker put it - "Oils are not messy, painters are."
Well... without being too oily.. i'm messing the place - i'll keep posting shots like these just so you know i don't slack off that much.
last week:


(yep - mirrored)


Two weeks ago

The Happiest Snail

From Zilnic

illustration by Alina Spatariu

“This world has turned into a machine. Driven by consumerism and engulfed in constant competition, people became mean, always so shady and afraid, watching their back, greedy, insensitive, aggressive, indifferent, killing the very planet they live on. “

Such a lousy speech, he thought… I’m not greedy, I’m not aggressive even if I look like a punk, I’m sensitive enough to charm a delicate girl, I care for the planet and actually distinguish the facts from the demagogies and I love competition. Is what gave birth to each of us – at least once in your life you were the best, the fastest of them all.
His mind was already stretched. He felt he was shot trough a hose whose ending was jerking ahead of him by the power of his desires and his mind was trying to catch up dragging all his muscles and frustrations mixing all the hormones and the concerns into units: seconds, meters, friction coefficients, etc. Tom Garuda was riding at 218 km/h knowing he will be too late anyway. Much too late. The road ahead of him was bending completely aware of all his limits.
At the destination the snail has just finished having a delicious portion of warm milk. The cow was in a good mood – she made the treat – they were chatting for two hours or so. That’s very quick for the snail and quite long for the cow. She always enjoys chilled out conversation – the snail is always chilled - not to mention he doesn’t drink too much – it was a nice afternoon. In his twisted world, the snail was talking science – what a charmer. The wind blew him the other day and he realized that speed is the true portal to another world.
“Why bother like all the other snails to find the escape gate in the infinity of the spiral that makes us? The sensation of speed is so unreal I had the feeling I could see the fundamental particle”, said the little fellow.
"Fundamentals are so beautiful. Touch one and you'll feel like climbing the hill of a virgin's breast while she sleeps in a summer day in the barn"
“Just dare the road, watch the big wheels spinning, think about the forces in place or imagine you’re born as one of the cars. Get close, feel that speed. I’m sure the sensation will split your world in two. With enough speed you can split the atoms. Physics as we know them are able to shift their laws at super speeds. We’re just stupid and ignorant of the possibilities around us.”
For such a wild speech the cow blushed and out of control gave the snail a hot milk bath. Snails are always crazy yet this specific little brat had something truly electric going between his eyes.
“Dude, if you’d be the most delicious grass, the most flavored flower, I would refrain myself from eating you, for this words.” said the cow as she was pushed out.
They said good bye and hoped for another encounter. With snails all the plans are always based on... hope.
Annabella Sue was releasing the cow earlier today. Worried and happy in the same time, she was doing everything with a lost look, picturing him on the road – riding that bike like crazy.
Once she was hoping for a way to remove her thoughts out of her brain. Now his memories were invading her, mixing all her hormones and frustration into a memory cinema, the purest form of female pleasure. The best scene was playing in repeat, keeping audience all her cells addicted to a memory while only a small part of herself was in charge with living the present.
Holding her in the tall grass where they just made love he was babbling for himself with the coolest tobacco voice.
“We’re far… far like the concept of protons for the strings. I should take you to a strings concert – you’d rebuild your skin on chills. You see… “us” it’s just a matter of speed…and there’s always more speed than I ever had the guts and the chance to reach. Seconds and meters – both so fixed and stubborn – in love like you and me. There is nothing hotter than love between theorems. What a challenge, eh? It’s how my engine works, explosion after explosion, energy fucking other energy, converting to power, torque, giving birth to meters per second… and me ... floating above them… developing feelings like lost kids recognizing their parents. There is nothing love can’t conquer: It’s physics. It's how your heart works, in perfect synchrony with mine - explosion after explosion - boom, boom - like a 2 cylinder beast…”
For such a wild speech, Anabella blushed and out of control gave Tom a shower of happy tears. Cleaning up the entire house she reaches the stairway to the mansard. From up there she will be able to see further. Under a dusty pair of purple velvet gloves she found her old coloring book and the scissors she loved so much when she was little. Time stopped – cutting paper with those scissors felt just the same – each millimeter, the sound , the feel of it, the heavy paper splitting in two, it was like the weight on her heart, splitting feelings with an immediate purpose and duty, the pressure of an accomplishment. Her childhood came back wearing magic purple velvet gloves.
After cutting a full page of the coloring book in slow motion speed, she looked at the permanent track the cut made, and suddenly her eyes searched the road outside. Empty.
Without thinking too much she cut the curtains with a single gesture. Like this she will be able to see him coming from further away. Over the hills, she could hear a car passing on the curved road. Before coming out of the woods, she would try to guess the brand and the engine of the vehicle. It passed fast. As the sandy beaches think of the sea, she was considering each car, a lover, yelling in her mind: The next one will satisfy me, the next one… please…
Her hand down her thick wool pants she was waiting for the next car to get closer – the Land Cruiser, v6 diesel almost made her cum but she denied herself the true pleasure. She will keep it for Tom Garuda who was speeding now like crazy on a modified Hayabusa on the serpent roads, coming to see her.
4 cars later her pants were down to her knees. She lays on her back on a dusty old desk that feels so cold and so good on her hot skin the chills on her skin multiplied to the extent all the spiders in the room freaked out. I mean... really freaked out. The dust sticks to her moist skin without a sound. She imagined a metal man with a turbo engine in his chest, sitting on top of her, puffing flames and vibrating like a beast, roaring under his incandescent skin.
With the same mad look she picks up the scissors and somehow, in a gesture of denying a self approach she starts to cut her pubic hair. It was an old and rusty pair of scissors making more of a mess to the puzzled look of now the stunned spiders gathered right above for a better look. Following the mess she spots our snail hanging on her leather boots. The little one managed to hitch an extreme ride out of the sables. The ride ahead of him was going to be even more important.
She decided: The snail will be her hourglass. Caressing its spiral she is falling in the hole our dreams are digging in the visuals right above the tip of our noses when the eyes are open and the brains are gone. Coming back to senses she’s putting the snail between her legs, facing her. She will wait until the snail will reach her hottest point and if by that time Tom Garuda will not be at the door or showing up on the road ahead over the hills, then his love will not conquer anything. His love will not be enough for them.

From Zilnic

Afro snail by Alina Spatariu & Me

Now, if I remember correctly, the first snail on the moon left such a trail that was visible from the splendid gardens of Mars. Our snail was ready for the same destiny. There was no predicable outcome to such an endeavor – God was watching with great interest – and in such He stop painting “The most beautiful parrot” which remained forever unfinished.
While violated by the snail her time shifted and in a spiraling sequence, her thoughts produced images ready to echo within her brain and her heart, like a kaleidoscope. It seemed the snail was moving so slow it gave her an odd sensation. She had the feeling, our snail become longer and longer and transformed into a snake. A guilty feeling of cheating her true love with this “Naga”, split her world in two like the other snake split the gardens of Eden.
She started to wonder if Garuda was coming for her or just for the ride and the challenge, the thrill of speed. She detests being just a pretext. Has she taken the cow out of the stable? Yeah... she did a long while ago… and the cow hasn’t return yet. And the guy with the Land Cruiser… if he knew how he was so close to make her happy… wait… if she was happy with just a random Toyota crossing on the road in front of her mountain hut, was she really in love with Tom Garuda?
In the same time the road was moving like a serpent, soon to change into a viper. This swing was hypnotic – it can keep you there like a dancing flame can keep your eyes stuck to its moves. He was overwhelmed by images and he knew that he needs all his focus on the road to survive. But since synchronization was invented in his heart, his mind was in echo. Was he in love? Will he lose his freedom? Will he give up his thrills for her? He was too proud for that. If so… why was it that in the tunnel of speed he could almost see her breasts?
The cow was sitting next to the road for more than an hour – that is long even for a cow – she was clearly afraid – but if the snail was right, how could she just ignore such a big thing? If the snail managed a ride, a taste of true speed and his physical world suffered such a vision, she would not just stay there wondering and thinking how life goes by without her.
She makes the step and filled with fear she stops in the middle of the road, like a cow, computing all the mathematics and wondering how another dimension can feel, thinking how speed can really split the atoms.
The snail was at such a point that she could barely take it anymore. It knew where it was. After climbing so high just by melting himself over this ground, over the fine smell of a woman, over the greatest snail ever, it was time for him to open his eyes and really see the giant beauty that he conquered so fast.
It became unbearable. After standing still for so long, the snail was almost there, not sure exactly where as she couldn’t understand her senses anymore, but it was driving her out of her limits – and now... the small bastard was popping his eyes out – what a perv.
Her hourglass was done - the snail was up – meaning Tom Garuda was “not enough in love” with her. Somehow this thought was fighting the sensations between her legs – everything felt like the most unreasonable pleasurable pain. She’s lost... she needs and exit.
With a precise gesture she takes the scissors, waits just a bit more looking at her vagina and the snail coming his eyes out and just as a slow-motion sequence resumes with a very fast cut, she scissors the eyes of the snail, one by one.
“That’s for not loving me” she said after letting her body back over the dusty desk. She came.
The cow hears a distant engine sound, incredibly furious and in the same time she gathers the courage to open her eyes. It was already so dark. There was no light… just the sound…
“In the tunnel of speed why do I see her breasts?” echoes in his head as he was taking a steep turn – one knee down – just like on the races.
A sudden image of a cow in the middle of the road was the last effort his brain managed to perform. In the tunnel of speed there was a small error. He will be too late, way too late.
In the morning everyone received the news that a man split a cow in two, riding his bike at great speed. Tom Garuda was of course dead in the process.
Surrounded by darkness the snail had the craziest awakening – never to sleep away from it. Without his eyes, the doubt was gone. Nobody heard him saying anything after that – but we know that’s just because his stories were passing in front of his eyes too fast for him to manage to tell us anything. His consciousness was flashed down his spiral. In the mist of the total black he understood the blockade placed by the distance between his eyes. Free of reality the snail received the truth, released his spirit like a true Naga and become a God. He was happy, as Gods are every Monday.

99.9%

Life is so smart in proving you stupid, the universe is slick and stacks the unpredictable just like it hides beauty in the sound of a waterfall. Your brain hangs to old sayings, looking for the safe way out but today you are the exception and the infinity of your ego is nullified by the infinity of failure methods.
You see, in the beginning I believed with all my heart, strongly, mind attached that the moment you will see your true love, you will know… just know. That was the beginning… just so I know now, that I was sorted by fate to the coldest soul ever.
In front of a mirror people are fake, projecting fantasies, reading their ideal version of ego on steroids. The ego is getting high on the self reflection. The soul is getting frozen by the perspective your brain is painting each day.

Do you know that personality is painted in you cells? I learned to read that and I can't tell you how gray the world has turned for me. The worst of fates - I have become a cold mirror - not the image in it - I can't be charmed anymore.
I remember the beginning, when teleportation was just announced, the fuss it created, the enthusiasm, the moral debates, the investors rush.
I went to study and did my practice in the first teleport station – the experimental one – even before major cities get one. Investors pushed strong and we were left to deal with this mess hoping that the future will fix our mistakes – but future never fixes misconceptions.
The first major station was so nice and shiny – humans only – age limit 21-35 – San Francisco (Silicon Valley) – Tokyo. They were freezing you so slow, the scanning of your body was quite primitive and searching the unified field for the same version of you in the other station could take so much that sometimes it was faster to take the plane from a place to the other and get there faster.

Rich people installed terminals in their houses. Soon people were more afraid to teleport than flying – after the first malformations things got scandalous. Now there are stations everywhere. The one killing my days is now so old and creepy – looks just like an old rural train station - the thing I hated the most when I joined the teleport business. It's sad when the edge of technology - so advanced it humiliates all minds - turns into the dusty casual thing everyone uses without even thinking how it works or why.
Now it's all a disgusting adventure. Except for the regular travelers people get so sick that almost everyone pukes as they exit the capsule. In the animals area the smell is even stronger.
We have 24 cleaning robots that got so full of puke I don’t think the smell will ever disappear. The arriving platform is like a haunted hospital – everyone is so pale, the floor tiles are now losing color and the steam from the freezing unit looks green from the ionized Magnesium particles.
First time travelers stop and look in the mirrors placed on the exit hallway for minutes long. Dressed in their single use blue shirts we put them as they exit, they have the feeling they see themselves for the first time – they do check to see if what they knew they were at departure, has arrived on this side identical. Let me tell you one thing – no sex revolution changed a damned thing. When confronted to the undressing moment for freezing and scanning everyone hesitates. I remember when only people with a good impression of their bodies were willing to be scanned, oh, I’ve seen some beauties. Not to mention – there is no make-up – the smell of fresh clean skin… I remember I wanted to stay in the cleaning chamber after a beauty was processed – I know… I’m a pervert.
People came to me in secret to recommend them a good partner.
“Hey man… do you know a natural blonde with big real boobs?”
“Hey dude, I was just thinking, I mean... you scanned me, you know me already… eh – what kind of women should I look for? “
“Uh.. I’m sorry to ask, but I’ve been so lonely, nice guys are all taken… I’m sure you’ve seen some kind people, with no big dreams, someone for a nice family… I’m getting so old, please…”

I could do it… I could, but I decided I don’t have this right. Even if I can read a person trough the smallest details, even if my opinion as a true observer is more qualified than of any cupid, I only look to what happened to me to realize that fate is stronger, smarter and I shouldn’t mess with pairing peoples, with the chances of their own destiny, with fate.
So here I am, scanning humans the same way you look at people passing next to you while you have your coffee on a terrace with a nice view. You spot a beauty, she looks back at you, eye contact, a smile and you ego is served – you exist. Some people don’t need more. It was everything I was looking for when I was a student.
I wanted people to acknowledge me. Soon I was searching only for special people’s look.
The more I scan, the more I know, the more I want something special. Isn’t it the same with you?
That rich beautiful lady with the small dog... out of your league you say – she gets to my POD, I’m scanning and her true existence is suddenly clear for me. I see her needs, her desires, her fears and she is so similar to everyone, suddenly she seems so small, I could just take her hand and tell her: "No more fear, no harm will happen to you, the unified field has both of us blended already. Everything will be all right."
For years I told myself – what will I do If I see her? My true love… naked and scanned before my eyes. Should I save the data? I could try few days or minutes after the teleport to send the data again to where I want – a romantic place, my home or to the lab, telling her it was a malfunction and we retain her for investigation… or better scan myself and send myslef to the same address. I wanted to try this… something only I could do – stream myself in her. I could mix the data of her and me and see what comes out in the other side.
The unified been of two. It should be like…
- Good morning Mr. Alzhei
- ‘morning Dave.
Mr. Alzhei is a regular. His company pays for it and he is traveling more that it’s legally accepted. He has a bad situation, needs the money for his malformed daughter – teleport accident. Now he is teleporting himself sometimes twice per day and for that he’s getting a lot of pills. Severe depression and anxiety and this kind of things are the side effects.

Anyway... it's all an illusion. Two months ago the miracle happened - as any miracle fast and beyond comprehension. Did you know that miracles are things so common everyone will believe you if you’d tell them?
I was driving my car slowly on a crowded street when I saw her. One girl, simple shoes, dark hair, busy look, I don’t even know how or what caught my eye... she crossed the street in front of my car. My foot touched the break… a reflex I still question today. Without any scanner, I knew it was her, the one, it felt like I see my current wife while I never had one. Something was so out of place – I always feel an attraction in the scanning room for girls that are like the aquarium fish – blondes, red heads, more aggressive, untouchable… you know? She was in a hurry, didn't even look me... she just crossed the street, looking only on how not to get killed by the likes of me, with no glitter, she walked painting a pastel to me.
Before I could even think what I should do, the traffic pushed me further and with each meter I was moving away from that moment, the feeling that I was running away from my only chance wanted to choke me. But each day of job made me so resigned that I just moved over this moment with the same placid face I see myself in the mirror each morning. Probably my feeling chocked someone else that day.

That night I dreamed I was in a bar and I could see above the heads of each person the percentage of perfect matching. At the end of the dancing floor a great looking girl was only 15%, the lady that seemed to in love with her boy was around 73%. Something told me that they were a bad match.
The door opens and this short hair red head waits for the crowd to bow and let her pass. She had 99.9% above her head. I couldn't do a thing. Part of me was trying to act cool and not to stare, other was amazed and excited and just in panic – “what should I do to be noticed?” my ego was yelling so hard the barman seemed to throw me a mean look for disturbing the whole place. She came straight to me. We started talking and soon we were not in the bar anymore... we were in... somehow… our house. I told her I had this power of seeing the matching percentage and how she is so perfect... she told me she had a secret too. Places her hand between my legs and I feel I’m growing. She has the power to model humans just like they are made of clay. Touching me... we make love, and where she is touching she is changing my shapes. All is blurry and so amazing, my shapes are shifting on and on... I had the feeling I could become whoever I ever wanted despite my fate, I could choose my soul, I could be perfect and have the most amazing girl in the world. Somehow time was running out, like the night was about to come, I want to hold her, keep her…
I wake up... it is morning. I go to the bath and I don’t recognize my image in the mirror.

Rainbow Reader (The Blue 2)

From Zilnic

Sitting mute for more than an hour in nothing but the complete reach and disconnection, they were both stunned on how strong the presence of accomplishment was. He sneezed. Unable to see any possible future that may top the moment she was imagining all her invisible supporters applauding the silence as result of true communication. Another round of applause was for the sick hallucination they were both part of and another one for his long neck. Just then he took a book, open it and turned the whole silence into a pause.



For the moment nobody could say if the pause was hours long or just the echo of the silence.
His voice, relaxed, deep and warm started to roll word after word, embarrassing each page as a faltering compliment. Overwhelmed by the wave of heat his reading produced, she couldn't stop thinking of energy saving patterns. She was suddenly all sweaty and above her round steamy breasts rainbows started to crowd. She imagined all the animals of his story overdosing with rainbows and tearing her breasts open in pleasures.

The imaginary audience of supporters was mute. Turned into a crowd of her own past iterations and father figures it was demanding dignity and lust, childhood moments of ripped plush giraffes and wild sex. He was calm, relaxed, detached.
The next word will bite her lower lip. Pushing phrase after phrase under her nails, followed by her eye lids and then the armpits, he was juicing her each heart beat. Soon he was digging caves under her breasts. He started from the left since there he found a black hole seed waiting, like a gas pocket, for a breath of air. His breath was perfectly controlled.
Soon the rainbows collapsed trough the thin skin and flooded the caves under the breasts. What a spectacular disaster. Hundreds of wandering animals from the book and lost souls kept in her darkness were about to be drowned in rainbow juice. Past boyfriends were the most desperate: we are just friends! they were yelling. The skin on the valleys of her breasts was getting dry and cracking like baked earth. Soon volcanoes would emerge bursting out her nipples. Rivers of ash would hug the hips and the lime green sheets of the bed would have to unveil her white legs with a tsunami, despite the attachment.
Snakes were already rolled on her ankles, sucking her blood just to make sure she doesn't explode. Between her legs a penguin marching band was helping flamingos to perform a ballet. She knew the flood was coming from within her and all the animals of the earth and several imaginary were entering her body, word by word.
It was a cold snowy day.

As charmed as she was, the Orthodox education kicked back in and she resisted the temptation to give herself over. Soon her body recalled all its cells back. He felt he was losing control. How could she? His master found his end also under the skin of a heretic, a non initiated woman, also a Balkanic one. For a second he was terrified, she wasn't listening.
Black stripes started to appear on his pants and the text of the book changed under his eyes.
"You will leave me; my heart is already too fragile. I would have loved you so much... but you are too cold. Instead of trying to win me over, be smart and let go of me. Be a gentleman. Stop calling, stop writing, just disappear. I'm not doing all this to give you the challenge you need so much. I'm just moving on. Your soul is sweet... too bad it's dry. Leave"

But his knees were all black now and soft like gum. His tongue too, all black. She turned to him, touched his face like whipping an imaginary tear from his cheek. Inside he bursts in a child cry, like when you realize for the first time that your deeds are hurting others for years to come. Soon his tears were coming down from her eyes. She was smiling... sad.

Caught in this dance of death he only hoped that the communication might work with more than words. He started to speak in his head, slowly, determined, cool, like he would have used his gift, his voice.

"Feelings are not written in words. It's an alphabet we invent and we look like argueing mutes when we try to speak our souls. Step back and see from far above. I will probably manage to leave, but we'll never be apart and while you tell me to run - i take a second and ask you to stay. Your soul is streaming through your body as light trough a prism. You mix some black among your colors and black rainbows look good only with white shirt and tie. Don't divoce the ideea of me, before i even recalculate my ego. Please, don’t be that proud... "

His face was changing while, locked in his mind, he was speaking his monologue. From a young boy with beautiful lips he shifted to a gentleman with piercing eyes. His eyes... she was just noticing for the first time... the eyes...

In front of his lost look, she lost the grip on her fears. The spell was broken.
Only his tears remained on her cheeks.
His tongue felt alive, his voice back, the knees seemed to solidify, yet still soft… his pants remained striped.
"Why are you crying?" he asked?
Hearing his voice he realized it was the only real sound in the room after he stopped reading. Was it all in his mind? If so... what is this wave of heat filling his guts?
Smiling with her eyes in tears she says:


"I love you too, freako".
"Keep reading."

Felix: The apprentice

From Zilnic

1 mentos tube.
2 tic tac orange.
4 bottles asprin
12 kilograms of turkish delight
one red cabbage
one rope of garlic
dry mint
thermo-isolated cup.

58.87 $

Always paying with brand new money made me curious. That was the first sign. As always, he picks everything up and shoves the paper bags in the back of his truck. I could swear there was something fishy with the man. Danny was sitting next to me and wants to look over the fence too.
... he's coming damn it... HIDE!
- He’s coming here?
- SHHH... shut up Danny.
- What’s he doing?
- He’s got a shovel... what the hell?
- Can I look?
- SIT DOWN DANNY! He's leaving... let's go through the back... maybe he goes home.

We running like crazy jumping over the stuff on Mss. Glasburry that she keeps in her garden. We get there before the truck. We see him unloading all the stuff and from the back... he gets a dead dog, I swear!
Danny has a slow moment of initiative.
- We… we… we have to tell the police or something.
- Shut up Danny... I’m going closer.
- I stay here… if you want.
- Yeah. Stay here... if i don't come in an hour or so, go tell my brother. Do you have your cell with you?
- My mom has it now... hers is broken and...
- Ok... ok... never mind. If it gets dark and I’m not out... tell Nick about it.

Long pause here... nobody does or say anything I don’t know how but it's how it went. After a while Danny breaks the silence again.

- You know what Katie was saying about him?
- No... what?
- That he must be a killer, a priest or a fashion designer.
- Why?
- Dunno. She was talking about his coat.
- It’s a cool coat.
- Yeah but she said... it's not what grown up should wear unless they have a mission.
- A mission? Do designers have a mission, you idiot? Whatever... I’m going closer.
- ok...
- ok...

Getting closer i get to peak trough the barely cracked window of the basement. He puts some music... stupid dance crap... and he opens a sort of a drawer. I can't see what's in it... from this angle i can barely see his head and only guess what he is doing. It looks like a lab or .. at that pointi see him how he takes the dead dog and puts it in the washing machine. A horrible smell comes out right in my nose. It’s so bad I have to close my eyes.
When i open them up again... the window is fully open and he looks straight into my eyes whispering:
- Hey Felix, would you give me a hand?

I want to answer but I’m all stunned. I was running in fact, if I could, but I was just sitting there. He says...
- Go around. The door is open. Don't let the cats out, ok? Come... you'll like this.
At this point you can tell I was really scared, but man... I wanted to see, and you know i'm not a chicken. I was all shaky but I went.
I get to the hallway, it's a normal house with a lot of stuff in it... nothing seemed wrong... i mean I was expecting blood stains, or altars or something. I take the stairs down the basement.
- Quick... close the door - i don’t want to stink up my entire house.
- Mr. what are you doing with the dead dog?
- It’s a lucky day Felix. You'll see. Want something sweet, Turkish delight?
- No sir... it stinks too hard here.
- How about some Mentos?
- Did you kill it?
- No, I found it on the street outside the town. It was hit by a truck last night. I tried to rescue it but it was too late.
- I see. Do you need my help sir?
- Yeah man, we need to make a sort of a thin bed of Turkish delight first... over that metal plate there.
- What's that sign on it?
- Ah... the artist in me. If it works I’ll explain to you.
- Is it dangerous sir?
- Ha ha ha - no my little friend. Come on, you're smarter than this.

So we start putting Turkish delight over the big metal plate. He's eating from it while arranging it... and he sings along with the music. As soon as we have it all covered up he brings several bottles of strange looking liquids and some jars with freaky stuff. And while singing he's mumbling stuff:
"Umm... a little dust from dried up mouse tails... a bit of this... a bit of... ah… I’m gonna run out of parrot eggs... hmm"

- Felix boy, can you help me with that TicTac? Let's smash about half of the box and mix it well with this little blue rocks... in fact you know what? Put them in the blender over there... it's not the perfect option but it does for the job.
I bring him the result... he starts to mix it with another stuff... anyway... things go a bit more complicated. It's getting late and I’d better tell Danny not to alarm my brother. Before i even finish thinking he goes...
- Don’t worry... Nick is really busy tonight. He'll meet his first woman. And Danny is already home.
- WHAT? How do you know? What are you talking about?
- Relax my little friend... I’m on your side. You like Katie right? See? I know all this stuff... and it's not magic. I'm just trained at see things... it's OBSERVATION!
- And the dead dog in your washing machine is also observation mister?
- He he... no... that's... good luck.
- What do you mean sir? What is this all for ?
- For a girl, obviously, he says with a big smile on his face.
- To get her love sir? To marry her? To what ?
- ha ha ha
- To make her love you?
- My little darling... aren't you too smart for your age?

True love it's something that requires decency and no artifacts. Not to mention, even if you shift the quantics to favor the love Gods you still end up with a bribed love. Corruption my friend is not making me hot at all. No... all this is for something much more simple.
Bring me that paper next to the laptop.
- This one?
- Yep.
- What’s written on it ?
- Looks like an email address.
- Read it.
- I can't.
- Exactly... the damn glossy paper and her ball point pen... not the perfect mix. Now it's all so unclear... not to mention... her hand writing. I mean... I managed the other day, when I ordered the pears and the mint shampoo from your mom’s store - you remember? You were right next to me...
- Yeah
- So i managed to see the initial writing... but I didn't understood a thing – it that an “a” or an “o” and that a “d” or… and it's supposed girls to have a nice hand writing...
- Well... some do.
- Katie eh?
- Yeah... so all this will help in what way?
- Come... let's make a small sacrifice to the gods of the internet – ha ha. Really, modern age has so many things at hand it's a pity not to use them. Get that gas torch and let's heat up the Turkish delight bed.

Soon the mixture on the iron plate starts to change color. The sign drew on the bottom lights up and it gets so bright I couldn't keep the eyes full open. Right then the man gets the dog’s washed up body and throws it in the middle... in few seconds the thing becomes all dark and the room is full of smoke...
- Now... the tic-tac mixture...
I had the feeling a small earthquake shakes the house.
He takes the laptop and grabbing me... he says:
- Come!
We go upstairs... we're all dirty but we rush straight in the white living room. Without taking his eyes from his laptop... he gets to the fridge.
- Milk? Orange juice?
- Sprite if you have.
- Have some orange juice.... quit drinking sparkling stuff.
Having said that... we see the messenger window popping up.
This girl, with a funny name gets online. I swear... it was magical... the look on his face. With the glass in his hand.. noting was moving in the whole house – the cats were all like stunned – I was too. After a moment…
- I should go now... sir.
- Thank you Felix… come again.
- I'll buzz you next time I'm online sir.
- Yeah...
At home nobody seemed to notice anything strange about me. I only felt cooler and smarter. Katie is online and she asks me about school. I think it’s for the first time she asks me anything. Weird eh?
Nick didn’t came home that night.
Danny moved out with his mother. He still believes I’m inventing all this. By observation, he will have a boring life. Now .. if you excuse me… I have a long and strange shopping list.

The Blue

An accident they thought. At her 3rd anniversary, he came with his parents and acted like it was his own birthday. All the grown ups in the room were eating, drinking, laughing out loud. The kids were drawing. She didn't cry at first. His drawing was dark blue.
It wasn't even a matter or argument. Somehow his hand took a Prussian blue pencil and stabbed the sharp tip in her face.
The place was amazingly chosen.
For years to come, the blue mole would charm so many people. They kept on asking: Is it a birth sign? So blue... how come?
Nineteen years later she had a fiance, he had a wife and a kid. Once again.. in a remote town, somehow they meet on the street. They had no idea at that time that he was the one marking her when she was 3 but the mole played her part stronger then before.
Two nights later, having sex was odd for both so, as she was trying to quit smoking, he just took a book and read her a story. The mole was burning and so all her beauty came out of her body and smacked all their entities together in a blender we call.. love.

Happy Holidays

From Zilnic

A bad day for Milk.

It was a bad day for Milk. The warm morning started to show some marks on his tan and the Jazz concert he was listening to… surely altered time. It was in fact the theme of his study: "we can alter time if we really manage to change our internal rhythm" and the Jazz was the perfect method for it.

He was sick… way too much sun, way too much Jazz. Time shifted for him and the 5 minutes he was spacing out, came back to tell him that in fact they grew into 5 days.

So… there are 5 days since the cat was missing? The Jazz concert failed to bring back her waving tail… that's why there’s no question, why his insides were not feeling that good.

By God, missing someone is really a damaging business.

Concentrating on his pain, Milk went into a deep sleep we call coma. Twisted around his guts he was dreaming only of the cat and her joyful figure. It’s strange how cats don’t have the anatomy to be sad. Surely… they try and we see some effort but they’re still just cats. As he wakes up, the cat is next to him.

She’s not sleeping, she’s not eating, she’s all wet and dirty and she seems in pain. Just like he was feeling.

Have his thoughts twisted her reality too? It seemed impossible... the Jazz concert was over.

Without saying a word he gets of the bed and starts to dress up. He’ll go to work and will not ask her a thing... if she feels like it... the cat will talk, will tell him everything, will love him again.

He could see on the expressions of all the colleagues he met that he wasn’t in his best shape. Everyone was looking at him like all of a sudden he was born malformed, suffered a severe burn on his face or just lost a limb, as having disabilities. They were acting accordingly, masking their attitude, trying not to stare too much.

Is my love … my disability? People treat me hopelessly.

He went back home, the cat was faking it too. She was acting like nothing happened, just like a disabled person tries to act normal.

Milk was hoping initially that she will burst open and confess, that the pain she was covering was meant to be remorse, to be out of love for him to turn into medicine for them both.

But the cat never speaks her most intimate echoes. The cat’s anatomy can’t let her burst into tears.

The cat is faking every color of her fur and every sun ray in her eye.

It was a bad day for Milk. With a sad smile, he kissed the cat on her little pink nose, took his jacket and went out.

In the Jazz bar, Milk was trying to shift time in the other direction, shrinking hours in shot glasses, drinking his guts out.

If the cat would come after him, pick him up, drunk as he was, telling him – “Come home you idiot”… it would be a nice story... right?

But cats changed. It was a bad day for Milk.

Watercolor

Subject: WAKE UP SPEELY HEAD
-------------------------------------------------

It's time, baby...

-D




But he didn't sleep at all. It has been a long time since he was waiting for this. It was her discovery and he was about to keep it for himself. This totally plain hotel room had the key to his dreams... and it was meant to work one day of the year only.
The watter was dripping filling up the tub. Out of the tub... he looks hypnotised at the water - He grabs some water to wet himself.. takes the cream soap bar with scrub particles and smashes it into his fists then he firmly fists his dick and moans in pain. He couldn't wait anymore.
The steam starts to create unusual rigid geometrical shapes... and the mirror responds in kind by refusing to lose its clarity.
It was hard to breath and the hot water was just about to reach the half of the tub.
It was time.. indeed.

He gets into the water and his body soon start to feel it. She was on the other side... allover him.. morphing in many ways that he could not even imagine. He felt he was inside her.. and outside and the more the water was rising in the tub the more his body was feeling.. unnaturally good. They were reunited... he missed her so much.
This little trick with the water in this hotel room, at this time... was millions better then any "Being John Malcovitch" - and they both tried that.
She told him NEVER to plunge his head under the watter - She told him to keep himself in this time and dimension, and to give himself... only as parts.. never the head.
But it was going to be so much until he was to see her again... and the water was running and reaching his neck.
He felt so good.. he only wanted to let go.. to submerge himself to her... She always told him to be free... yet he only thought of her.. he never wanted anything else... to be free .. was to be ... hers.
He said.. "i love you...freako' ... I'm coming" and with open eyes.. he let his body drag the head under the water.
His dick came... and sperm floated in the water as he disappeared...

on the other side.. she bit her lip and whispered a "no..."
her eyes got flooded with tears who carried his taste...
she knew she lost him... he was gone.
why did had to love her that much? Why was this happening again?

the water kept running all the way... to the room... and to the stairs of the hotel.. and to the pit of the elevator.. and it kept running a long time after as the hotel guys had a realy hard time puting a stop to that.

No Reflection

ref used from net.


First time it was deja vu.
She was as always half asleep on the way to school, leaning her forehead on the bus window when the other car passed in the opposite direction.
In the window of the other bus her reflection doubled.
The next day she played with her reflection until her shadow merged with the rain trails and formed a rabbit...
Nice weather, no? said the rabbit.

The regular opposite bus makes his pasing fast. She barely managed to notice that her reflection was looking on the wrong direction.
Weird.
She was tiered... needing sleep.
Eyes closed she talked in her head with all the people in the bus - finding out all their stories. People are not that bad. Students rock.
She will punish her reflection tomorrow starring at the window no matter how many busses will cross....

Weekend came... no school, no bus... no window... no reflection...
She forgot about it until the forehead told her Monday morning - brr the window is cold... again.
It's decided: she will look for the other bus.
The bus arrived... and for a split of a second she saw herself in the other bus... with her forehead on the window.
There was no doubt... it was really her... or someone who looks identical with her.
She was so freaked out the next day... looking for the purple bus...
Her heart was so small... the bus was getting closer.. and...
...
Both busses stopped - the traffic was such that her widow came right in place with the window she was aiming for in the purple bus.
She looked at her copy... perfect... the copy was amazed too... it was such a moment... she doesn't remember anything else from that day...
…
Next day... she looked again... big starring eyes on both windows... moving away the copy... smiled...
Couldn't remember anything else of that day either...
Next day she mounts in the bus to go to school... eyes meet... time stops... time runs again... and then at destination, she gets off the bus... she was... home.
It was still morning... she left for school - she remembers that much... yet... the bus brought her home. She tries to ask the driver but... the bus is gone and... it's purple.

She dials her own number... and her voice sais - i cant talk right now.. i'm having class. i'll call you later.

later she only receives a message:
"i'm sorry about all this - it's because i'm in love... all the quantics... the infinities of us... i had to skip over one of us. Is all a bit messy - but... all the numbers are right now - you will love too... starting tomorrow. I'm go glad for all of us. Good bye."

The next day... she was going to school... remembering nothing of this - she was just thinking about her lover... someone she only remembers about... it feels like she never met him... like a love from the internet and it will take her whole life to see him again... but she loves him... and she will stick to this window of the bus every day until the bus will take her to that world and she will be able see him again. What's the difference if he's oceans away or dimensions apart?

Then suddenly she heard his voice... right in her head "i love you too, freako"

The end.