http://azurelle.cgsociety.org/blog/ azurelle's blog en-us 120 http://azurelle.cgsociety.org/blog/4506
So I was supposed to write something about ways that I made to or in Berlin.
Well, one of my ways, or supposedly the first I would want to describe is why I prefer to write all this stuff in English. First of all, I have to say, that I really tried to pull it out in German this time. I wrote about one page and then scraped it, because I didn't like the way it was written, didn't like the way it wouldn't allow me to sit back and see it as if somebody else had written it.
I wasn't able to pull out any written stories or diary entries in German since that day as I joined the dead fathers club. When you're in, you're in.
To understand what this meant for me, you have to know that I used to write a lot since I could hold a pen. I would write hundreds of pages of stories that I had made up in my head, and I would also make tons of drawings to illustrate them. By this day all that died down and I remained with some empty way of making paintings which often had no real meaning. Eventually I managed to create this or that piece of art that would fill my heart with joy every now and then, but basically I was just trying something and was not sure of what I actually wanted to accomplish. This lasted till some time in 2006, as I discovered Shakespeare through V For Vendetta and the old ways of English literature. The way it was written made me want to try it for myself, because it showed some kind of beauty. If a language can be beautiful, so to speak...
I made careful tries and managed to write a short story that I actually was happy enough with to read it again after I had written it. Not too long after this event I was asked to work for my first magazine. Since the article had to be made for an English readership and a deadline, I was driven by force, but it turned out just well. Since then I have been using this language for my articles and some sort of online diary that I use to fill with random thoughts every now and then.
As said, I assume that it helps me to not see myself too much when I write something, and so my wish to have things perfected cannot overwhelm me enough to stop me from what I am doing.
So, after this very long blahblah in my opening and my hope that this article will be suitable for thew little project that it's written for – at least I got no reply to my question if writing it in English was OK or not- I will now proceed with what I actually wanted to write about.
When I think about my recent ways in Berlin I have to say that what has kept my mind most busy is what I shall call my home now. About three months ago I have moved to my new apartment, but I haven't really stayed there. I haven't even managed to get all my stuff sorted out of the cardboard boxes. The reason why I couldn't get myself settled pops back up into my head each time I go “home” to see if everything is alright. When I find the first rotten food in the cabinets or this or that dirty thing that was carelessly thrown to the ground I know he was there. He is not my lover, if you think that. My lover is the one at whose place I've been staying, my friend is the one with whom I've been living. Actually we were three friends who shared one apartment. Everything was fine until we decided to split up because one of us wanted to go to Vietnam to help people. He's got big balls, I'd say if I was talking to my friends now. Farewell he left, I got busy with life and then things changed. Now I wonder when the other one will come back from hospital, and I wonder how we're supposed to live on when he is back. You do not throw away a friendship that's been lasted for ten years just because some things get out of hand. That's not what you do. You try to work it out or at least try to be there for your friend and do all that you can do to help him.
That made me think of a friend who used to have kinda the same problem. I haven't seen her for some longer while now, but I hoped that she got something I'd call “a life” finally that consists of more priorities than browsing Deviantart all day and wonder who said this or that shit online. She didn't change. Maybe one and a half year is not enough for those kinda changes. I don't know, but it makes me wish for these people to have some real problems, while on the other hand I'd surely have to ask myself what real problems are supposed to be.
I'd say that finding your way as an artist could be some sort of problems. It can be a problem that is haunting you like forever, because there are these visions and you'd like to get it out of your head, because it frees you, and it also is a way to share something immensely beautiful or something that's just shocking with others. I'd also say that finding “the” way to expression can be like a fight. Let's say to get something out of your head you need some kind of skill. You'd at least have to know how to write if you'd like to express yourself through writing. But therefore you'd maybe also wanna know how to shape words in a way that makes them sound beautiful once you read them. This may require practice, and eventually you want it to be perfect and so it never really satisfies you. That's when your fight with reality begins that won't let go of you for the next couple of years and that's when you start making your way until you hopefully find some way of expression that pleases you one day.
My own way as an artist is somehow connected to recent events that made me evolve immensely in my art because these recent events make me unsure where I belong and whom I belong to. Since it feels like there is a fight between two competitors that both put their feet into my door, I'm feeling puzzled because I am missing some sort of privacy.
Privacy as being able to say this is my space, here I am free, there is my stuff, and my presence will bother noone, and I'd be free to care just for myself for a moment, and won't have to worry about this or that other person.
My roommate also made me wonder how much of this modern life is meanwhile taking place online. I do not want to believe that all that one has to worry about is what pictures he exhibits in this or that virtual gallery. It isn't real, there are just numbers, statistics for everything, but no people that you see from face to face. I cannot understand how people can bother about things like that so much, and it basically wouldn't interest me that much if some of these would finally stop bothering me. Two days ago, I decided it was necessary to write a long entry how much I think it sucks that people forget about what's reality and that all they worry about is if the fairy on the picture is pooping into the forest or not. I made my point clear as an artist. This entry was filled with anger, because of pure irony it suddenly seemed necessary to justify why I give a damn about virtual problems. I pretty much liked this entry, it was full of bad words. I'd loved to submit it to this magazine, but it would be hard to justify how much this has to do with ways we make in Berlin.
Thinking about it even more, I must say that I really love this place, but even more I loved my time in UK. I was living in the south, went to school there and had two guest siblings. They were both fourteen years old. I was sixteen. People say UK is supposed to be rainy most of the time, but while I was there we had sunshine all over. Just sometimes it rained. I had no own computer at that time. In fact I didn't have much of anything, and I shared my room with my guest sister. When I wanted to go online or play some games, like the evil killergame Counterstrike, I went to an internetcafe were I met some friends and had fun. I had no bike, too. So I did long walks on the beach or up the cliffs and shot bad photos with a cheap camera. On weekends I would meet my friends on the pier, where they had a disco, MC Donald's and a gaming hall. I so loved this gaming hall cause people came together to play or watch each others playing. I was impressed by those people who perfectly handled the dancing games. Most of them seemed asian. A funny coincidence.
When I got back home I had to care for my guest siblings because our guest mother used to work long. TV was just partly entertaining because we just had 3 channels and one of them seemed to be just for golf. We also had 3 dogs and two rabbits. I can remember that the tallest one was pretty old and once scared the hell out of me because he would lie still as if he just died until I was about to touch him. Then he raised his head and made me fallover because I so didn't see it coming. I also can't recall the names of my guest siblings eventhough I spent so much time with them... well, basically the boy almost never came out of his room. He barely spoke English and was pretty shy. We passed hand written letters under each doors once, as we all were at home. My guest sister was this kind of person you always have to watch, because she'd always have funny ideas and so much things got broken. She once found it funny to slap me with the cornflakes package and then wondered why it broke and so got me all covered in flakes. This meant no breakfast for the next morning, because all this kitchen seemed to be containing was toast and cornflakes. And marmalade. Once our guest mother cooked for us, but I can't remember what and I know that the boy wasn't with us. I liked this time as I had basically not much, but this made me enjoy the country and my time with friends and it felt so alive. It felt better than this time in some way as I have much more money and a lot of more things to keep me busy with. I even reached a point that made me want to be free of all the money, but I need it for living, and I'd like to spend my holidays at San Francisco and have a look at this art academy that has send me this nice letter.
]]> Tue, 26 Aug 2008 21:41:48 +0000 http://azurelle.cgsociety.org/blog/4151
Does anyone else have this problem? o_O
Could you guys help me somehow....? XD]]> Sun, 01 Jun 2008 22:40:36 +0000 http://azurelle.cgsociety.org/blog/4064

I once painted a man who was imprisoned into his own world, maybe not even realizing it, the roots of his own being bound him, while he did not want to stay. And while people usually feel loved and wanted into their own world everything he touched would vanish. In fact, he had no arms, because all that he had was a large extension to his body, such as a spear that would impale all that came close to him.
Not too long ago I have found such a man. Looking at him made me want to nail his face to a photograph. He did stare back so I was left with no choice but to talk to him again. I said what are you up to this weekend? He said nothing, actually. Will you give me your number?
And that's what I did. We wrote a few notes., back and forth. He said he needs a model for one of his photographic projects. Though we in theory just know each other in person for around 48 hours, he'd want me to do it.
I'll model for you, I said, I'll model for you if you model for me. That's fine, he said. We took some photos of me at my place. Transferring the pictures that he had made with my Canon EOS 30D made me find this painting again. I looked at it for a moment.
Actually I cannot remember if it was him whom I thought of as I painted it, but it felt just right.
Come over here, I said. He approached. This is you, I said. He looked at it. That's amazing, he said. Then you shall have it, I said. Cause this is you.
Yes, this is me.

We'll see how my photos of him turn out. Eventually I'll manage to nail him how I have envisioned it in front of my inner eye.]]> Wed, 14 May 2008 01:18:24 +0000 http://azurelle.cgsociety.org/blog/3796 ver.di is on strike. Vor Berlin that means no buses, no subway. For me that means alone 26 kilometers to get to art academy. By now at least the trains of the German train service are still running, but they will also be on strike from monday on which means kinda isolation eh? And yesterday that also meant 13 kilometers by bike for me because the trains were so full that I couldn't get myself and the bike squeezed in.
I navigated my way with the help of the train station plan and buildings like the wings of Potsdamer Platz, Hauptbahnhof, Bundestag & Reichstag, Brandenburger Tor, Siegessäule, Tiergarten, Gedächtniskirche - kinda inside city tour. I've never been there by bike before.
And two times the old lady played bad on me. First the front tire fell out of its holding (WTF?) which I luckily got quickly readjusted, then a few kilometers later the chain jumped out of its holding and made me fumble for some minutes until I was able to resume my way with dirty hands.
Because the trains were so helplessly overflooded - same for streets and sidewalks - I finally decided to at least make my way through to Savigny Place. I couldn't drive that fast but after an hour or so I finally reached Westkreuz (Westcross train station xD) and got myself squeezed into the train finally. My God... and unfortunatly my friends live so far away that we won't be able to see each other when the strike spreads out over all of the city. The forest and around 20 kilometers seperate us - and we got no running bikes. Also my hun lives at the other site of the city so there are around 50 kilometres which seperate us now. Uh! All contacts stay in contact through internet and phones by now... and only by that.
And on top of all that it was snowing and windy so the cold that was just kindly knocking my door for the past days saw this as chance to break through and throw me into bed for the past 48 hours.
Ouch. Must resume working....!



Speaking about work: http://www.comicbookresources.com/n...em.cgi?id=13257
In theory I am not allowed to show my work on Zenescope's Piper comic yet BUT Comic Book Resources has written an article about it and there you can see pages which were colored by Nei Ruffino and me. Obviously our names aren't mentioned, way to go...

]]> Fri, 07 Mar 2008 19:50:58 +0000 http://azurelle.cgsociety.org/blog/3737
But I got it and now I am most busy to get the first 23 pages done until the deadline ends. Luckily there will be more time next month but right now I just hope that we get it all finishd in time!

Wish me luck!
Oh and I might be able to post some previews soon but please don't wonder about the style changes eh..

By the way, why am I angry that my best friend had sex with my ex boyfriend?
Because I know that he wanted to turn my friends against me and he said she was hard to break because she is one of my most "loyal" friends. So you do what? Play temptation on her!
And she wears the pink glasses right now so there's no chance to tell her. I so hate when that happens... the poor girl!
Not to mention that I feel a bit betrayed by her now, too, cause what she told me in the past doesn't meet up with her current behaviour...

Or else, is it really in humans nature to just look for someone sothat you can have sex or are not alone? And then you tell him you love him but short after that you already love someone else in order to be "not alone"?! And does this justify to insult someone as soon as he doesn't do exactly what you want - because he still has his own will?
I am totally confused right now!]]> Tue, 19 Feb 2008 20:42:47 +0000