Paperiaarre

while I'm lacking photos

2012-01-07T16:26:00.000+02:00

More dreams of my grandmother's house, from last night.

My family was going to see my grandparents and aunts and uncles and somehow I ended up having a tiny bunny with me to take care of. It was no one's, so now it had to be mine. (Just so you know, I'm allergic to everything and my family has never had any pets and I don't even consider myself as an animal person. And my family is propably even less animal people.) I did my best to hide the bunny from my grandparents, and after it failed, from my other relatives. That too failed because the bunny kept running away whenever I took my eyes off him (I kind of thought of Peter Rabbit when I saw it, so I decided it was a he) and soon there were four bunnies instead of one (Peter had tripled not given birth) and it was dark and they were tiny and I was big. At some stage I fed the original bunny fruity muesli because I had no idea what bunnies eat and thought muesli must be the closest match in the house. There was also a fifth bunny that wasn't a bunny but a cat with a sweater and I threw the cat out the door so it wouldn't eat my bunnies.

I was cleaning up the tiny sandy beach next to the sauna so that they could sell the house. It was autumn and there were a lot yellow and brown leaves in the water and on the shore. The water was very clear but for some reason I think of it being brown anyway. Maybe it's because of the leaves and wet sand. The shoreline was full of trash but what caught my eye was my old silver grey hair trimmer and its green-blue plastic parts (from the time I used to cut all of my hair off) in the lake, underwater, just a step from the shore. I put those in the plastic bag I had brought with me for the trash. Next I picked up some black cast iron pieces that looked like giant burnt matchsticks with those round curved heads. Where the water was knee-deep there were some large plastic toy dinosaurs stuck in the bottom. They were up on their feet, sunken but not heavy enough to not be moved by the waves. So there they were, the dinosaurs moving back and forth, underwater. They has lost their original coat of paint and only the colours of the plastic core remained. Each dinosaur was made of more than one colour of plastic; one was definitely red and blue, like it was made of some left over plastic, with the two colours poorly mixed together so that the end result wasn't exactly marbled but something along those lines. When I reached out for the dinosaurs a large reddish-brown snake wrapped itself around my arm. I wasn't really scared, I was more frustrated about having forgotten I ought to be wary of snakes. (Snakes are hardly a real threat there being only one poisonous species of snakes in Finland but I dream of snakes anyway.)

I feel like I should add that I don't use stuff I shouldn't use.

disturbed by light and lack thereof

2012-01-02T11:09:00.000+02:00

I slept through the evening, on the living room floor, rehearsing my dissappearance from the reality, so when it was time to actually sleep, it was time for me to lie awake. Light seeped through the window blinds but in the backlight I could not see if V was awake or not, I could not make out what was between his temple and the tip of his nose, if the occasional glimmer was his eyelids parting or just the light sneaking its way to the corner of his eye. I guess you already know how this goes. Staring at things in the dark never ends well. V's eyes began to leak darkness that spread all over his face and I had to turn away because it was scaring me a bit.

When I fell asleep my spool of gold thread fell into the snow. I find this deeply metaphorical. Of what, I don't know.

A discussion between my mother and I, in a dream, in my grandmother's house that was sold and demolished last summer.

K: It's silly, really, to redo the wallpapers now that the house is no longer ours. (The rolls of wallpaper we had in our hands were ugly blue and in no way appropriate for the mid-century style of the house.)
M: Yes. The new resident will most likely have her own style and she'll redecorate anyway.
K: I thought no one was going to move in here anymore.
M: True.
K: I don't think I actually am here.
M: Yes.
K: Yes what? I think it's impossible for this to happen, for this place to be.

It was the house of everything. I think I waited all my life to be old enough to see all the things it hid inside, to be grown up enough to play with even the fanciest of buttons, to put the National Geographics back on the shelf in whatever order I want.

Entering my nth year of depression. I got up too early. Woke up too early, but with enough morning light to see when V began to open his eyes, still desperately hanging on to the remains of his dreams.

I won't make resolutions. I just hope, a little, small things. Like to be well enough to make an advent calendar this year too. Maybe begin writing a journal again.

december 25th

2011-12-25T10:55:00.000+02:00

december 24th

2011-12-24T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage findings, board, tissue paper, feathers, vintage velvet ribbon, vintage magazine illustration

I hope your days are what you wish them to be. Holidays or sleeping days or just ordinary good days. Today is the day we celebrate Christmas, so here ends this year's calendar. If you stop by tomorrow you will find photos of all the matchboxes made this December.

december 23rd

2011-12-23T09:00:00.008+02:00

self-made paper, vintage book illustrations, vintage dictionary text, metal findings, linen thread

december 22nd

2011-12-22T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage dictionary, hand dyed Japanese paper, vintage silk fabric and thread, vintage keys

december 21st

2011-12-21T09:00:00.000+02:00

december 20th

2011-12-20T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage romance novel, magazine illustration and lace, red jade beads, thread

december 19th

2011-12-19T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage encyclopaedia anatomy illustrations, hand dyed Japanese paper, cardboard, wood

I've always liked the gruesome pages of my old encyclopaedias the best. Don't know why.

Here I am hoping it won't be bone breaking slippery outside. I'm picking up my mom from the train soon and I so look forward to spending some girl time with her today and I know we both prefer not to break any bones.

december 18th

2011-12-18T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage photo slides, board, paper, selfmade paper

In this matchbox there are two old (very blue) slides of the same location on top of each other with a gap between them so that the scene changes and becomes oddly three dimensional when you change the angle you're viewing it from. This is one of those boxes that are beautiful but impossible to photograph well. I knew that from the start but couldn't stop and change my plan.

december 17th

2011-12-17T09:00:00.000+02:00

hand dyed paper, vintage dictionary text, vintage watch gears

Constellation. This one is actually Leo.

december 16th

2011-12-16T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage watch parts, paper, hand dyed Japanese paper, vintage silk threads

So, yet again I put a bird on it. I can't help myself when I find those little birdy heads in my box of watch junk. V is on his way to Rome, a business trip, a biennale. I'm home, waiting for the sound of rain and the sound of snow melting to stop. I am sleeping all wrong again. Not my usual wrong, but even more wrong.

december 15th

2011-12-15T09:00:00.000+02:00

paper, dictionary text, thread, vintage photo slide (may 1975)

do click to view in larger size

december 14th

2011-12-14T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage magazine illustration and dictionary text, handmade lace paper, vintage book flyleaf paper, tissue paper

december 13th

2011-12-13T09:00:00.001+02:00

vintage magazine illustration, hand dyed Japanese paper, brass locket and chain, vintage dictionary text

december 12th

2011-12-12T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage stenography (shorthand) book, paper, vintage chandelier crystal, feather, vintage thread, board

I am getting incredibly old all of a sudden. I try my best to reverse it by eating as many cardamon marshmallows as I can.

december 11th

2011-12-11T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage magazine illustration, paper, vintage watch spring, vintage silk threads

december 10th

2011-12-10T09:00:00.000+02:00

paper, vintage magazine illustration, vintage dictionary text, vintage lace and ribbon

a silent person, a background performer, an extra
(I like how she's a silent girl instead of an actress with no lines...)

december 9th

2011-12-09T09:00:00.000+02:00

millimeter paper, paper, vintage dictionary text, wool flannel

Blogger is disliking some of my photos again, only two today then. This one is about roses and reds.

Last night I made my first ever even remotely macaron-ey batch of macarons (chocolate lemon curd, not bad). Will have to experiment more later and hopefully get even more macaron-ey macarons than this time.

december 8th

2011-12-08T09:00:00.000+02:00

hand dyed paper, paper, vintage silk, vintage spool of thread

december 7th

2011-12-07T09:00:00.000+02:00

not naming any names

paper, tissue paper, board, vintage magazine illustration, vintage lingerie shoulder strap

Lately I've thought a lot about the act of carrying someone with you. In the past people wore medallions with photos, carried with them a lock of someone's hair or wore a piece of jewellery made out of hair, had personal items with engravings. All in all, memorabilia was something entirely different from what it is these days. I love all those little things that people keep just to be reminded of someone, how they symbolically take their loved one wherever they go. Of course there are cell phones that store all the photos you want them to, and more, but I personally can't do any of that. My phone does have a camera but I don't know how to use it or how to send photos from my phone to another or how to get the photos out of the camera and I simply can't be bothered to learn. And most of all, I don't want to. I don't want my phone to be my everything. I want to need other things too. I want to wear my watch and remember how I got it from my parents and how I still don't quite know what time it is when it's around 11 or 2 because the watch face is all weird and has too few little stripey things. When I want to take photos, I also want to feel the weight of my camera and hear the (digital) sound of the shutter and think how amazing it is to be able to take photos with this great thing called a camera. I don't want my phone to play music. Actually, I usually don't even want my phone to ring. I want to stop compressing life into this handy portable form that is now available. What I want instead, I can't really tell, but there is something very appealing in the memorabilia of the old days. Those items are so terribly real compared to pretty much anything.

(The shoulder strap came from a small collection of vintage lace I acquired in Berlin. I could not bear to part with any of Saima's old things. Because, you know, sentimental value...)

december 6th

2011-12-06T09:00:00.000+02:00

tissue paper, hand dyed paper, graph paper, vintage botany book illustration, vintage watch parts

My second little mechanical birdie. My ruby-eyed song bird.

Happy Independence day to my Finnish readers. Yesterday was spent under blankets. Maybe today I feel well enough to dress up and sit on the sofa wrapped into a blanket and watch the president shake many hands on TV.

december 5th

2011-12-05T14:53:00.001+02:00

vintage school book illustration, fabric, thread

Sorry I'm posting late today. Just had a rough night with the sinusitis that's back again and really ruining my mood.

december 4th

2011-12-04T09:00:00.000+02:00

vintage magazine illustrations, brown tarred paper, board

december 3rd

2011-12-03T09:00:00.000+02:00

noblesse oblige

paper, rusty metal, lace, dictionary text

Sielun Veljet and the cold morning after

2011-12-02T17:11:00.001+02:00

Last night we were on an amazing gig. I almost didn't go simply because I was feeling like not leaving the bed all day but I'm so glad I went. The young lads in the above video are now middle aged men (and I too am not 1 but 27) and they had the most unbelievable energy on stage. The audience did make me feel like I was crashing the Christmas party of some smalltown highschool principals. The wild young fans had turned into upper middle class people who now do jazz hands during their favourite songs instead of jumping up and down wildly. There was something so awesomely weird in the combination of enjoying the energetic stage presence and feeling so out of place in the crowd.

This morning awoke to a light I knew I couldn't miss and quickly got up and took photos in the freezing kitchen without any pants on fearing I'd lose the light if I paused to get dressed. So now there are proper photos on Etsy <3

december 2nd

2011-12-02T09:00:00.001+02:00

tissue paper, vintage book illustration, antique silk thread, pebble

december 1st

2011-12-01T09:00:00.000+02:00

my mechanical little bird

tissue paper, paper, vintage botany book illustration cut ups, vintage watch parts

Shop update

2011-11-30T22:25:00.001+02:00

Me, my poor little cameras and the daylight didn't play well together this time, but I decided to go ahead with the shop update anyway and hope for a better light in the coming days and replace the photos. So, the above little notebooks (that you can paint to suit your mood and style) and a good bunch of coptic journals are in the shop.

Please stop by tomorrow morning to see the first matchbox of this year's non-Christmassy advent calendar. I still have over half of the calendar to do so I'd better get offline now and make some art matchboxes.

hi! [I make books. I collect things.]

2011-11-28T22:46:00.001+02:00

Me and my three best friends (V, camera, hairdryer) in our Berlin home. Now we've been back from the artist's residency for a good while and have already had time to get ill and almost better again. (I ought to upload Berlin photos to Flickr some day soon.) Before the sniffles turned into sinusitis and after the antibiotics began to work, I've actually made some books and prepared for this year's advent calendar. The inbetween time I was just sleeping and watching amazingly bad movies with almost equally ill V. So, I'm having a very slow start with my holiday shop update but I promise some truly beautiful books will be listed on Etsy in a day or three. And on December 1st the matchbox calendar is back here again. The matchboxes too will be available for purchase as soon as I have the time to list each one.

So I guess I just wanted to say hi, since it's been too long already. And maybe I also wanted to tell how I told V last night at some odd A.M. hour that I used to collect tiny ceramic mallards when I was like 10 or something. Instead of replying with "Thank you for sharing this with me at 4:32 in the morning" like I expected him to, he said "You've always been a real geek". And I guess he's right.

(other stuff I've had/have collections of: stickers, Victorian scraps, popsicle sticks, stamps, buttons, dresses [honestly, I can't deny this], vintage sewing notions, old photos of people unknown to me, beads, pretty paper scraps, chocolate cake recipes, old tins, books [obviously], stones, curly black hair I've found in my blonde-ish head [not blonde in the photo, though], scarves [an accidental collection], funny coloured nailpolish, things I can use for something but don't yet know what that something is)

floating

2011-10-31T21:52:00.002+02:00

In Berlin. I fell in love with the jellyfish at the aquarium today. They're like stars made of silk.

Calm.

wedding guest book

2011-10-21T22:44:00.001+03:00

This book+bag combo was custom made for a lovely customer. The book is 7"x8" with pages of recycled gray paper. The binding is a coptic one with linen covered spine. I'm quite sure I will be making more books with buttons on their spines as this one really pleases me visually.

Going back and forth here. V and I were supposed to head to Spain for an artists' residency but mold got there before we did and now all of a sudden we went from not going anywhere to leaving to Berlin in a week. So, if you have any recommendations on what to see while we're there, do share with us! I plan on getting some writing done there, but there will be time for other stuff too.

fleeting

2011-09-13T22:59:00.000+03:00

This one is already sold and gone.

The yellow birch leaves on the ground are forming long dunes along the streets. It must be my favourite time of year now, everything still smells more like life than death. My favourite colours found in nature: tansy yellow, rowan berry orange. It has been raining a lot and the drainpipes and windowsills are rattling night and day. V sings me Rosvo Roope in bed in the middle of the night when it's better to talk than try to fall asleep. And then he also sings songs that make me cringe, but I adore him for singing so well, anyway. So that's how it's like here then, slow and strange, steadily both.

chrushed and wrinkly

2011-08-25T00:25:00.003+03:00

I feel quite crushed myself, too. This year has been a tough one, even this summer, finally living with V, has been a bleary-eyed one. Depression drags me down whenever I sense a better day on its way. I go from not sleeping to sleeping too much to sleeping at the wrong hour to sleeping too much at the wrong hour. C'est la vie. It is nonetheless hard to accept how slow my life has to be, how little I can make, how much I have to focus on not doing too much but still enough. Needless to say, I did not mend the dress as I had planned. I did bake enough cupcakes to feed a tiny village. So the priorities change and I focus on things of little importance that make me feel accomplished and happy.

I am getting older. No news, I know. But it was odd to realise I'm no longer a part of the notorious group called the youth of today.

reluctancy

2011-08-12T02:02:00.002+03:00

He told me I was the most beautiful woman in a city full of blind people. Apart from that it's been rather grim here. (And fine, maybe it's not so awesome to be beautiful in the city of the blind, but hey, at least he fancies me. I don't really care for the rest of the city anyway.)

Emotional times and failed plans. I keep disappearing even from myself. I forget to hold on when it's windy outside and inside. Yesterday was the first day it really felt like autumn is on it's way. Even though I prefer autumn to summer, this year I'm reluctant to face the new season.

PS. The unrelated photo is of pintucks on the back of a salvaged vintage silk dress that once probably belonged to Saima. If I can manage to sew some ribbon to replace the chopped off collar and cuffs and re-hem the dress, I will be wearing this to a going-away party next week. I was spesifically asked if I could wear something fancy. I suppose this is as fancy as I can get. I promise to share photos if I finish (and begin) fixing the dress in time.

mo(u)rning light

2011-07-24T05:57:00.003+03:00

When the sun rises the shades of white change from cold to slightly warm. The curtains are old white sheets with plenty of lace at the top edge and the initials KK. I do not sleep after having slept too much in the evening, the whites are now ivories. My grandmother's trousseau? my trousseu, of a shade of morning (a brief visit to marriage it was, but not a failed one). I am very happy, very sad. I hoped for a storm and I got thunder after thunder and they didn't help one bit. I am frustrated by all the anger, too. I am excessively sensitive; I always react before I understand. My mind is slow, my emotions quick. When will I have the time to stop and understand something? Not that it's possible to understand what happened in Norway.

It feels as if I'm experiencing love and happiness for the first time. Maybe I am. Maybe I am free now. Yet a feeling of guilt lingers in the background: I should not be happy at a moment like this. Of course it's not true. My happiness does not make those who lost someone any less happy. My unhappiness does not make strangers any happier. Often I just try to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders. Always failing.

Somewhere far the thunder rumbles again.

When I was a child my other grandmother had cotton wool and dried rhodanthes between her windows. All we have there now is the black dirt the city breathes into our home. I should do something about it.

stormy, I hope

2011-07-18T16:50:00.000+03:00

Small book covered with bamboo fabric. I don't really know if it's grey, blue or purple. It's a thunder cloud colour. I'm hoping for a big storm here, it will soon be too hot again.

lighter - long stitch binding with vellum

2011-07-16T18:50:00.000+03:00

Another large one. The straps are Finnish reindeer vellum, the cover is handmade paper. The sewing on the inside cover reminds me how I often forget how tally marks work. It's too hard to remember to make only four lines before diagonal one.

darker

2011-07-15T15:40:00.001+03:00

This one is a large one. Khaki linen combined with black and light yellow lace. I remember thinking, when I was much younger, that this must be the ugliest piece of lace I have. I could not understand why anyone would want to use yellow for anything, it was my least favourite colour (maybe it still is as I cannot wear yellow myself without my skin looking all grey). Then everything clicked when I placed the lace on the khaki linen. It took maybe 15 years to understand this lace, to begin liking it. Now it's right where it's supposed to be.

I think I will have a large shop update early next week. Until then I will continue showing you the Saima books and make books for my other new secret project.

mother of pearl

2011-07-12T21:35:00.002+03:00

Buttons for my great grandmother and the most beautiful vintage linen I've ever had the pleasure to use in my books. This book is a postcard-sized coptic bound notebook with 84 pearl gray pages.

It's still too hot even though the heat wave is now gone. Despite the rain we had today the air is heavy, the moves are slow.

not only baggage

2011-07-04T22:10:00.000+03:00

"It doesn't matter where you go you always bring your self ", Liesan commented on my last post here. It is true. It's a bad thing, and a good thing. Sometimes I manage to bring with me only myself and leave worries behind (like whenever I go to London), but I guess it would be too good to be true to be able to escape worries and unfinished matters at home too. I'm the princess with a pea under her huge pile of mattresses, whenever there's something wrong it keeps on gnawing on my nerves. If I could change one thing about myself, I'd choose to care a little less. Until such possibility comes upon me, I try to enjoy the beautiful sheets meant for my mattress tower. I hung the lacey vintage bedsheets as curtains to our bedroom window, craving for something white to counterbalance the overwhelming blueness of the walls and wanting to not forget things to the back of some cupboard.

When I make myself at home somewhere, I don't only bring my baggage, I bring loads of other things too. I bring an entire history of crafty women with me. Like I've told you before, my mother makes all sorts of things by hand, quilts mostly nowadays, and her mother seems to have tried her hand at more crafts than what now comes to mind, my great grandmother and her sister Saima were quite talented too. Since my family rarely throws anything away, loads of unfinished craft projects have survived for what to me seems like a century (and I may not be off much) and a ton of fabrics, trims and buttons from Saima's days that previously filled my grandmother's sewing room now fills my mother's and seeps into my possession as well. Inspired by a small stack of the most beautiful white vintage linen remnants my mother sent me I made a tiny collection of books I came to refer as the Saima books inside my head. I've never met Saima, I've only heard some stories of her, seen photos of her (go spy Emil's if you're interested in her unbelievably beautiful-looking life in the early decades of the 1900's), but all that has contributed to an imaginary Saima of my own. In the Saima books I used some of the vintage linens, some new fabrics that complemented the colour palette I had in mind, some antique laces that have been passed on to me ages ago (sometimes you have to use even the most treasured materials when the right project comes along) and a whole bunch of vintage mother of pearl buttons. I wanted to add a bit of that nowadays otherwordly decadence to my notebooks, turn them into something really one of a kind. Hopefully people treasure all the notebooks I've made for them, but this small stack is super special, to me at least. That's probably why it felt so good to make. I do not only carry baggage with me, but real treasures too. I'll show you more in the days to come and will list these on Etsy eventually.

imperfect

2011-07-04T01:00:00.000+03:00

(from Emil's)

It feels like everyone has turned to stare at me and I can't find the correct position to be in. So here I am, all slouchy and feeling quite off.

Some things that have been on my mind lately:

- his cold feet cooling mine when I was burning hot

- sleeping on the living room floor when I felt like I was coughing my lungs out bit by bit

- finishing books (started in Turku) on the living room floor while watching Brideshead Revisited and Ashes to Ashes

- heartbreaking insecurity

- crying at night because I get too much email and I ~~currently~~ apparently suck at getting back to people

- choosing not to get back to everyone

- being proud of the books I made earlier

- re-writing a book of poems I thought I had finished

- I really need to be in the top 5% or I have no idea what I'll do in the autumn

- good food: strawberry-halloumi salad, fresh peas in a horseradish sauce

- reading David Mitchell

- neverending pollen allergy

- too hot

All in all, I wish I was in a better mood, especially now that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be with the person I wish to be with. I wish I knew how to not behave childlishly when my soup's not hot or when my feet hurt or when I have 99 unread Etsy messages waiting to be replied with "Beautiful! Thanks so much!" (that's not what I want to say, even though it's basically what I mean - I've run out of words that look the way I feel).

I wish someone would give me a flower. I wish I knew how to give something. I wish there were more moments like when I asked V, ottaisitko mun jalan taas syliin? would you take my foot onto your lap again?, when we were a tangly mess making crossword puzzles and playing xbox on the sofa. I probably don't need to mention it, but I'm going to anyway: I had nothing to do with the xbox. I'm the crossword puzzle girl.

Kind of imperfect, even when I know this right here is perfect. I always end up remembering everything else.

the feeling of being at home

2011-06-12T01:11:00.000+03:00

Fazer Prince Chocolate box filled with my grandmothers old cardboard toys, some beautiful china that once belonged to Saima (my great grandmother), a sea urchin, sand and rocks from places that were exotic decades ago (like Lanzarote) and a granite core sample

the most awesomest lamp that used to greet my family from the hallway window with its light whenever we arrived to my grandparents' in the evening is now mine and looking for the perfect spot to stand on

my new old bookshelves and slide-door cupboards and V's magic carpet that has yet to show signs of aviation

Everything else is still dusty and disorganised, but I've successfully merged the contents of my bookshelf with V's. Now we have alphabetized sections for Finnish fiction, translated foreign fiction, English fiction, poetry; and unalphabetized sections for non-fiction, music and film, sci-fi and fantasy, children's books, comics, art books, dictionaries, and, of course, bookbinding and other crafts. And yeah, I did alphabetize our good dvd-films by the director's name. The not-so-good films I couldn't be bothered with. It's way too hot in here to do anything, but boy did I have a good time sorting stuff anyway. I realised tonight, being home alone for the night for the first time here, that it really makes a difference, the bookshelf stuff. This morning my father brought me a load of treasures from my maternal granmother's home and the first thing I did after we had put the shelves up and all the miles of wires (one serious movie freak in this household, and I can tell you it's not me, even though I love a good film any time) into their correct places and had a good lunch with some super salty chips (chips as in french fries), was organize the bookshelves. I'm guessing we easily have around 1000 books and 250+ films, so that's quite a lot of organizing to do. And it all really, really made me happy.

Like having a plastic bag full of buttons to sort according to various variables happy.

(so much to show, so much to tell, too hot too messy too many furniture hanging around just for fun, but I tell you this much now, I also have an awesome 1950s sofa and V has a huge tv and I can't remember the last time my home had both those things. Wait, never. Actually, never since leaving home ten years ago have I lived with both a tv and a sofa in my household, and whenever I've had one or the other, it was a very brief encounter. Also, I'm baking bread, trying to make a caramel spread myself, succeeding in burning the sugar without realizing it until it was too late and now I have a batch of salted caramel spread that tastes like the icky almost burnt sugar your grandmother used to glue the pieces of a gingerbread house together and you even remember leaving the corner bits uneaten because of it.)

elsewhere

2011-05-29T22:34:00.000+03:00

These little embroidered and gocco printed linen brooches went to Australia. I meant to show them to you earlier, but the move got in the way.

Tomorrow I'm going back to Turku to drop off the keys to my old flat and say a little goodbye to the city. The move went well, considering that moving is hideous. The exam went well too. The kitchen is a mess and I doubt my work desk will be in functioning order any time this week, but I'm still very proud of having unpacked the majority of my belongings in just a little over a day. So here I am, sitting on my new living room floor, surrounded by only a small mountain range of fabrics and plants still waiting to be put somewhere, and it's good to be here.

(even though I can barely keep track of all my bruises and useless broken bones. try moving house with a broken tailbone...)

London pt. 3

2011-05-24T01:49:00.000+03:00

Night and day. That's what London and Finland are to me. I don't know which is which. Maybe most people worry less at night since that's when we should be sleeping. London is my night, then. But it brings so much light into me, it's almost laughable.

One of the nice little things I often think is how I sat on museum gallery benches, resting my sore feet, waiting for V to finish his round of nearby rooms and pick me up before he went too far from me or I got bored of the paintings I was surrounded by. I can only take in a little at a time, so this was good for me. Sitting there, with the soles of my feet tingling from excessive walking, I was with V, sensing his presence, and alone with my body. It all made the museums feel even more sacred than before. People move slowly, shuffling their feet, everyone looking at the art in a different manner. There are those who look at the names of the artists and their artwork, then there are those who look at the art, then there are people like me who look at the museum. But I don't think anyone cocks their head just the same way as someone else.

V's pencil case

2011-05-20T22:09:00.000+03:00

Earlier this spring I was in need of something quiet and slow. I made V a pencil case, by hand, sans sewing machine. And it wasn't slow like I thought it would be. I made another one for myself, a mustard yellow one, by machine, and it was much trickier for some reason, and it's not nearly as nice as V's. I wish I had thought of the pattern before cutting the fabric; it would've been nice to have a full circles form around the zipper.

Apparently Blogger isn't giving me back my post re: books of good things, but just so you know, there's a new version in the shop, in two colours and extra goodies will come with all orders from now until further notice.

I will be moving next week, as well as taking a very important exam, so things are a bit crazy here at the moment. If I've managed to not reply to your messages, rest assured that I've spent many hours replying them inside my head whilst waiting to fall asleep. Many grateful thoughts were sent your way even if no words.

Not sorry, not sleeping.

2011-05-17T03:24:00.000+03:00

I don't sleep until the birds have awoken and the sun is up. I tie a scarf over my eyes to remind myself what it's like to have darkness, to remind myself that I ought to keep my eyes closed if I wish to sleep. It never gets dark in this home, not even in the winter when the city lights seep through the blinds and the curtains and the roller blinds. Now I just try to imagine what it's like, the darkness that is lack of light.
London was heaven to me. A whole week without a single anxiety attack, a whole week of a world that was V and I and no one we knew. It was also a week of sleeping at night. It was me looking after V instead of the other way round, most of the time, anyway. It was me seeing V see the things I once saw for the first time.

I'm sorry it upsets some of ~~my friends~~ the people I know that I am with someone who makes me happy. I'm not sorry that he makes me happy.

Long distance

2011-05-06T20:56:00.000+03:00

I've been sleeping sideways in my bed so I wouldn't feel how empty his side of the bed is.

London pt.2

2011-05-05T20:53:00.000+03:00

Ai Weiwei / Tate Modern

If you have a moment, please watch this video about Ai Weiwei's Sunflower seeds.

London pt.1

2011-05-02T01:36:00.000+03:00

Lacey, part 2 (and a plea for old photo slides)

2011-04-21T00:04:00.001+03:00

This one barely made it to the shop before it was already gone. The same goes for several other pieces! I'm absolutely delighted by this sudden blast of orders (i.e. the money couldn't have come at a better time, you guys saved my trip and my art project and many other things)!

There's something comforting in the soft fuzziness of this handmade lace paper - and also in the dimensions of this book. I have a special fondess for books that are either tall and slim or simply square-ish. I try to surround myself with aesthetically pleasing things. I claim that aesthetically pleasing is not the same as beautiful, but I may be the only one who thinks so.

Speaking of aesthetics; If you happen to have any useless old photo slides you can bear to part with, they would have a good future as a part of my visual poetry project. There's a good chance they will be written on, cut, destroyed or possibly even shown as is. If you're interested in donating a slide or two or a hundred, drop me a line. You can find my e-mail address in my profile or you can leave me a comment with yours. Thanks so much in advance!

White (and all other shades of colourlessness)

2011-04-18T23:35:00.001+03:00

This, and many more, on Etsy, at last. All the matchboxes from my calendar are finally there too. I know it's April, but my wall calendar is STILL in November. My life, and all the other excuses. I haven't even tried making anything colourful art-wise; neutral is what I need&want.

Thank you all for your sweet response to my last post. I felt silly writing it, so I'm glad it was worth feeling a bit silly.

PS. a bark sailboat like you've never seen before. the text is unfortunately only in Finnish, but maybe Google can help you translate it. a guy and a boat and a trip from Finland to Estonia, across the sea.

The ring story

2011-04-18T03:27:00.000+03:00

I promised you the ring story a good while ago, and here it comes: Way back (like, several years ago) when I was getting married, I said to J that I would like to have a silver ring with a mother-of-pearl inlay. He asked around and no one agreed to make us one, and I think someone actually said it couldn't be done. So J got me another kind of ring and we got married and then three years later divorced. (He's still an amazing guy and a good friend, so I guess I didn't break his heart too badly.) After living on my own for a while I met V and told him straight that I'm not planning to get married again, at least not any time soon. We've been traveling back and forth between cities, missed each other, enjoyed the time alone... You get the picture. Now I'm moving in with him and saying bye bye to my noisy home high up above the parking lot and hello to his sweet first-floor cave by the park and everything feels right. And I'm still not planning to get married. But when I found my ring on Etsy, made by the incredibly talented and sweet Meital, I knew it was made for me. I told V I would marry myself with that ring just because I can't divorce myself and damn that ring was perfect for me. So, I got married with myself at Bossaliina while eating tasty tomato soup and chatting with a strange lady who soon noticed the lack of the local dialect in my speech and etc.... An end of an era, somehow. It didn't feel like I finally got the wedding ring I was supposed to have before, it felt like finally having something I should've had ages ago. And it was just too good to be a simple coincidence, Meital said the ring had been waiting for me for a year in her shop.

I only wear silver, never gold. I've always loved mother-of-pearl; now it reminds me of my mother and her mother (who says "pärlemor" in Swedish) and all the women in my family line (like Saima, of whom I often write about). Already as a child I played with mother-of-pearl buttons and buckles that had been passed through at least a couple of generations, and I still play with the same things, and I gather a collection around them so that when I'm gone there will be something beautiful left behind. I like how seeing the ring makes me think of happy thoughts. One edge of the mother-of-pearl inlay has a pattern like tears; this is me, happy and crying. And this is me and my family. And this is me, whom I cannot leave.

The ladies in the photos are not my family, but they do look strangely familiar. I was going through every antique shop in Turku with V when he got an interview request and all of a sudden I needed to become a newspaper photographer so that the interview and book critique could be accompanied by an artsy poet photo. The photos were my reward for the job. I love picking out my favourite girls from huge stacks of cabinet portraits, there's something magical in it. I tend to choose women who look alike, men who look either handsome or quirky or boys who look simply awkward. Young girls aren't that interesting for some reason, maybe it's because they're often so doll-like and it's hard to imagine what they were like in real life. I do like imagining.

I might just as well tell you another story now that I'm on a roll, I promise I won't stay this wordy in the future. When I started studying English at the age of 9 everyone in the class was given an English name that was somehow alike their Finnish name. So my English class name was Kate. And somewhere up north from where I lived there was this guy who was named William in his class. Next week we happen to be in town when the other William and Kate are having their little party. I swear it's a coincidence! I had no idea until just a couple of days ago, I'm so off the map with what's going on in the world. Like Easter and May Day and all the other stuff that happens every years.

That's all for now.

Yours truly,

Sleepless in Finland

Lacey, part 1

2011-04-16T18:52:00.000+03:00

linen blend covers, vintage lace, board, paper, linen thread

approx. 15x15cm, 132 pages of acid free grayish brown 100% recycled paper

I keep going back to my vintage lace collection whenever I'm in the mood for books that are a bit more romantic; to me the combination of delicate lace and visually rougher linen is pure perfection. Maybe that's the most romantic my style gets, I'm not too into frills and tricks... I love how these type of books can be used as wedding guest books or as the everyday journal. Simplicity and harmony please me.

My move up "north" has occupied my thoughts lately; lots of planning, lots of things to do. A month and a half to go still, but I already feel like running out of time as unfortunately there's more to life than moving and designing diy kitchen tables. My inner interior designer has some pretty amazing projects in progress and in mind anyway. V is giving me free hands to do whatever I want with our home (so far!). I say it's going to be fairly interesting to turn a two-poet-guy-bachelor-roommate flat into a two-poet-relationship-household. But I do have a feeling our home may well be the awesomest in town once everything is in it's right place. V is cool like that, and my random stuff is cool too.

On Monday I'll be back home again, hopefully listing this book on Etsy, as well as a bunch of others I have yet to blog about. I'll try to have everything done by Wednesday, so that you will have a chance to snag your favourite and have it in the mail before I'm off to London for a week. Yay <3

ps. Is it totally weird to have moved so many times in the last couple of years that I actually have a tag here called "moving"?

up&down

2011-04-10T23:46:00.000+03:00

Spring. I'll be back very soon.

Today was the first day I didn't wear boots this year. Today is the first day this year it's fine to be at home in Turku with V, and not feel like I'm already buying the next train ticket to go somewhere else. (We'll be here until Thursday before we're off to read some poetry in Jyväskylä.) V's book is out and for sale. I have a stack of finished handbound books waiting to be photographed as well as other crafty things I wish to show you some day soon. -ish.

Project no: 758?

2011-03-20T20:07:00.000+02:00

Just when I thought I had too many things in the making at once I got some great news and now I have some more. Can I please have more hours in my days? I'll pay back as soon as summer's here.

Spring

2011-03-17T02:11:00.000+02:00

packed thong binding

handmade paper, reindeer vellum, paper, board, two shades of linen thread

20,7x15,2x3,4cm (8.1"x6"x1.3"), 112 heavy white pages

It's been ages since I've last made books that weren't coptic bindings. Last autumn I made the gocco printed notebooks and this winter it was time to make something entirely different for a change and so his other lover was born. Both were projects I truly enjoyed and they were a breath of fresh air on a time that really hasn't been all that creative. Now I've decided to mix things up a bit a bring more variety to my craft projects. It's definitely beginning to be the season for wedding guestbooks etc., so I'm making a stack of books in light but natural shades with a bit more romance* than my usual work. There will be coptic bound books as well, I doubt I'll ever give up my favourite style, don't you worry.

The feeling of having spring just around the corner (hey, we still have plenty of snow up here!!) has definitely cheered up my spirits and inspired me to make art happen. Bit by bit. I wish I had fresh flowers in my home.

*Please remind me to tell you a story about a very special ring some day soon! It's not what you think, but it has made me overly emotional today nonetheless.

Stitching

2011-03-15T14:45:00.000+02:00

Something I started when I was visiting V and my hands could no longer stay idle. I hardly ever do embroidery, but I guess that's just the reason why I enjoyed doing this so much. Change is good. I finished the necklace last night.

I don't really like posting photos of myself, but you did want to see the glasses, so I made an exception. The wrinkles around my eyes are not a sign of me getting old, I hope, I just smile too much. Even when it hurts. I just spent the weekend puking my guts out thanks to a stomach flu, but still I feel like life is good for a change.

The Logbook

2011-03-09T16:01:00.000+02:00

The Logbook, a custom order

linen, paper, board, waxed linen thread
21,3x21,3x3cm (8.4"x8.4"x1.2"), 120 bright white pages

There's a lot of nothingness going on in here. The calendar on my wall is living November and I usually have no idea what day it is. I've had my fair share of bad news, but luckily there's also been enough good news to cheer me up in the past couple of days. I'm slowly preparing for a move and planning our little spring getaway with V as well as some new books that will hopefully earn me some cash to spend on ice cream and sandwhiches and pretty frilly dresses. I've also come to finally accept the fact that I'm the worst people person on earth, but I can still create art others enjoy. I just need to shut up and focus on the magic I know. It's all fairly random, but I guess I'll need to live with it for now.

If you should get bored with nothing happening over here at Paperiaarre, there's always something new at Emil's.

Emil's

2011-02-17T14:45:00.000+02:00

I have started a side project I'm pretty excited about. You should stop by at Emil's when you have a moment. There's only a handful of photos there at the moment, but as I will be posting new ones three times a week, there will soon be plenty.

Today is my great great aunt Saima's birthday. She would be 119 if people lived forever. I was almost twenty years late to ever meet her, but she's kind of my favourite relative anyway. When I was little my mother used to tell me stories of Saima's long hair and how she sometimes got to brush it. I was growing my hair back then, but even at waist length it didn't come close to being as long as Saima's.

In 2008 my grandmother gave me a large photo album so that I could reuse the cover leather in some bookbinding project of mine. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I first saw the album. The covers are probably cow hide, all scratched and worn and boring as hell. The word "Amatör", amateur, is gilded on the cover as well as the signature of Saima's husband Emil. No way in the world I would destroy any of that or throw away the photos like my grandmother suggested. To me old photos of strangers are better than fairytales. Browsing the album with my mother helped me put a name to some faces and places, but most remain unknown. Emil is quite a mystery himself. He must've been around and taking photos by 1916 at the latest as that's when my grandmother was born and she's in some of the photos. The earliest date I could find on the photos was 1912, but that doesn't tell much as only two or three photos of almost 400 are dated. The latest date was 1922, but I believe it's not the last of Emil's photos. Emil died when he had been married to Saima for only a relatively short period of time. In 1939 he definitely wasn't alive anymore, but that still leaves big gaps in the timeline. Sadly this is the most accurate information I've been able to get so far. If my aunts are reading this, feel free to tell me more. Until new information is sent to my general direction, I'm happy to hang on to my own fairytale interpretation of the photos.

As I already said in the beginning, I will be posting new photos three times a week (Mon-Wed-Fri), one album page at a time. I won't be touching Emil's work and adjusting contrasts or anything like that; I try to show you the photos just as they are. Emil was an amateur photographer, but I think there are some amazing shots in his album. I guess being an amateur photographer was a bit different back in 1910-1920s than it is now. It warms my heart to think of Emil dragging his camera equipment from city to city, shooting landscapes, people, dogs, everyday life. It's a nice change to those formal photos taken by Photo Atelier Klein or whoever.

If you're up for spending most of this year browsing old photos with me, Emil's is the place to go. Hopefully things will soon become a bit more active here at Paperiaarre too. Since I last wrote you I've had a water damage scare (my upstairs neighbours let a bathtubful of water try to invade my privacy), too little sleep, too much sleep and failed attempts to study. Now I'm attempting to reply emails and make some books.

His Other Lover

2011-01-26T22:58:00.000+02:00

long stitch binding, 11x14x1,5cm + approx. 65cm

the covers are laminated paper, the spine is made of Finnish reindeer parchment, the inside pages are vellum paper, the hair is made from French-Finnish dictionary pages, sewn with waxed linen thread

I've never had so many sleepless nights in my life as I have this year, and it's still January. I can count the nights I have slept well or even relatively well with the fingers of one hand, hence my prolonged absence here. Ghostwalking for weeks. On one of those sleepless nights this idea was born. His Other Lover. I have always shared the ones I care for with literature and the yearning for words and stories. Both my ex and V are poets. (I am too.) I can't remember a time when literature wasn't somehow sneaking into my relationships. I weaved the strips of dictionary pages into a loose braid, like literature wove itself into my love life. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair. She's a sweet seductress I'm willing to welcome.

Due to the unusual form of this book-object, I won't be listing it to Etsy as I haven't yet figured out the best way to ship it. If you are interested in purchasing this, please don't hesitate to contact me privately and I'll work something out.

I have a little something different up my sleeve too, but it may have to wait a week or two. I'm super excited even in this exhausted state of mind of mine. I'll let you know as soon as I have some official news to share.

sleeping

2011-01-09T16:08:00.000+02:00

Last night I dreamt of blogging. I had two photographs. The first was of me riding my new bicycle (it was one of those granny style bicycles, a red one if I remember correctly), it was yesterday but actually summer already and my hair was longer. The second one was of me sleeping today. It was taken very close up, you could count my eyelashes if you wanted to (there aren't very little of those), and the pillowcase was bright white instead of the red it really is. I just really wanted to share those photos with you, they were beautiful and I looked genuinely happy. In the dream I ended up just writing you the words yesterday and today even though I wanted to tell you everything about how I got the bike and who took the photo of me sleeping.

In another dream I thought about how much times have changed, how there used to be dinosaurs everywhere around this time of year when I was a child; how in the recent years there had only been some; and how this year I had not seen a single dinosaur. This is how old I am.

I don't want to go home.

25

2010-12-25T09:00:00.001+02:00

24

2010-12-24T09:00:00.023+02:00

(handmade paper, vellum paper, paper, encyclopaedia illustration, encyclopaedia text)

suuria kunnianosoituksia

sekä vähän hiukkasia

sirpale;

hiutale; liuska,

peräkkäin,

kaikki kysymyksessä

olevat elementit,

mutta eri järjestyksessä

great homages

and some particles

a shard;

a flake; a chip,

in a sequence,

all elements

in question,

but in another order

My mother found an example of the early works of this matchbox artist, and some of my brother's box-y creations too. She knows to save just the right things.

Today is the day of Christmas celebrations here, therefore today is also the final day of this calendar. If you stop by tomorrow, you'll see all the matchboxes together, but after that things will quiet down here quite a bit. I will be back mid-January at the earliest. I wish you all a lovely, peaceful Christmas and days filled with the things you want them to be filled with. (I wish my days will be filled with peace and quiet and good food and time with my family and finally my V.)

23

2010-12-23T09:00:00.003+02:00

(Japanese paper, metallic paper, board, vintage dictionary text, shell)

22

2010-12-22T09:00:00.000+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustrations, paper, board, shell)

21

2010-12-21T09:00:00.001+02:00

(paper, tissue paper, board, shell)

It is night now that I write this. I try to make the hours last, like I always do. I'm listening to this. Last night I had a dream where I was approched by someone who, at the same time, was from my past and someone I had never met before. I don't know if this person was a man or a woman, but I know they trusted me. Maybe it was a man then, I've never been very good with the girl talk. We were at his place, I was drinking coffee, which I never drink in real life*, he had a wax tablecloth that was sticky and had newspaper text imprinted on it in reverse. He pulled out a large box from under his bed. It was full of tiny compartments, just like old typecases, and those tiny compartments were filled with tiny treasures. Feathers and rocks and stamps and nuts and bolts and everything. He said that I should have a look and see if there's something I can use in my matchboxes. I woke up before I could decide upon keeping anything. But it was a good dream nonetheless. Vague, but I dream in vague.

I just wanted to share this bit of last night before I switch off the lights and chase the ending to that dream tonight. Thank you, you. You're full of awesome. I'm so glad you're here

*I'm the freak that doesn't drink. No tea, coffee, hot chocolate, beer, wine, champagne, sparkling wine, sparkling water. Just cold tap water preferably. Juice or soft drinks occasionally. But water is my thing really. Though I don't drink enough of that either. I'm terrible.

20

2010-12-20T09:00:00.003+02:00

(handmade paper, encyclopaedia text, mother-of-pearl buckles, thread)

valkoinen / white

Anca asked, I replied the best I could.

I will be gone for the holidays from tomorrow until Jan 10th. I will be closing my Etsy shop tonight, so if there's something you need shipped before mid-January, please shop before it's too late. Sorry for such a late notice!

19

2010-12-19T09:00:00.000+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustration, stone, paper, self-made paper, linen thread)

Putting together a box of buttons and 1+1

2010-12-18T18:03:00.000+02:00

Today I was taking a photo of myself for a blog feature (more on that later!) and realized how different I will soon look. Yesterday I found out I need glasses, for reading, writing and creating. Strangely, it made me feel more grown-up. Everyone else in my family has glasses, and for some reason I have always thought that adults are supposed to wear glasses. Maybe I stop being such a kid now. I realize I'm a bit simple sometimes; I thought it was perfectly normal for things to become blurry if viewed from too close. A small part of me is excited, now I don't have to look the same all the time, but I also worry about losing my ridiculously expensive glasses the moment I get them. Everything changes. Every day I need to grow up. How silly, really.

Anyway, I just wanted to share a glimpse of my messy (but tidied) work space. If you click to enlarge, you will see some Geninne's work on the background. The lighting is poor even in front of the window, as it was snowing when I took the photo, sorry about that. I could really use some sunshine already, enough with the snow and clouds...

18

2010-12-18T09:00:00.000+02:00

(a half of a brass curtain clip, metal findings, vintage encyclopaedia illustration, Japanese paper)

V said the piece of a curtain clip looked just like a dress. I found the right girl for it, a Spartan one, from around 460 BC.

17

2010-12-17T09:00:00.001+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustration, mulberry paper, board, shells)

This one reminds me of the King's Library in the British Museum. It is possibly my favourite place in the world. I love how you can stop everything there; you can just sit down, watch and listen. I remember the lighting, the gilded railings high up over my head, the floor creaking, the Asian tourists staring curiously at me just as if they had simply forgotten that perhaps that girl on that bench is not a part of the exhibition.

16

2010-12-16T09:00:00.000+02:00

(hand dyed fabric, japanese paper, paper, shell, vintage dictionary text)

dédale [dedal] a labyrinth, a maze

If you're interested in knowing more about my creativity and how I create these little things and the whole story behind these matchboxes, please visit Patti over at Missouri Bend Studio.

15

2010-12-15T09:00:00.000+02:00

(handmade paper, paper, tissue paper, board, vintage encyclopaedia illustration and text)

free view in all directions.
a combination of short
distances; a word of action
approximately the same pitch black,

14

2010-12-14T09:00:00.002+02:00

(vintage school book illustration, paper, vellum, linen thread)

13

2010-12-13T09:00:00.001+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustration of eels, paper, pebble, waxed linen thread)

12

2010-12-12T09:00:00.002+02:00

(vintage school book illustration and text, hand dyed paper, mother-of-pearl buttons)

Explain and draw frog's

a) limbs, b) movements.

I would be clueless.

11

2010-12-11T09:00:00.001+02:00

(paper, dictionary page, bamboo fabric, a dried rose)

I named this one 'Rakkauden haudalla' (by the grave of love?) already when it was merely an idea. This is one of V's ideas again. This matchbox is my equivalent of a sad love song, on some sort of strange meta-level. (Sad love songs quite often make me go eww rather than sob sob.) The name came from a song by Juice Leskinen, but I couldn't find it on youtube, so I'll have to leave you with a link to a cover version I don't even enjoy. Love is dead etc. For once someone is more pessimistic than I am.

10

2010-12-10T09:00:00.002+02:00

(vintage novel page, tissue paper, glass, copper wire)

9

2010-12-09T09:00:00.000+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustration, hand dyed paper, tissue paper)

I wish I was traveling somewhere sometime soon. I miss being someplace where it's impossible to know where exactly you are. Small paper aeroplanes. (See, I'm learning to be more consistently British, I'm beginning to use more vowels than absolutely necessary. And I kind of like the word aeroplane. But I still choose to begin senteces with an and or a but. Such a rebel.)

8

2010-12-08T09:00:00.000+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustration, tissue paper, hand dyed linen thread)

7

2010-12-07T09:00:00.002+02:00

(vintage French dictionary pages and Finnish encyclopaedia pages, school book illustration, Japanese paper)

X, the unknown (quantity, person, etc.) X see. Ks-.

I wonder whose hand x-ray ended up in a 1950s school book. And if they ever found out it ended up there.

6

2010-12-06T09:00:00.003+02:00

(vintage school book illustration, hand dyed fabric, mother-of-pearl, thread)

Always waiting. Always for time to happen and for another time to come. When I was making these boxes I was exactly where I was. V was there too, going through my collections of bits and pieces, brainstorming with me for hours on end and nodding approvingly whenever I presented a finished piece. This calendar wouldn't be here without him; so thank you, my love. Thank you for being exactly where we were with me. And thank you all my readers for coming here day after day and for sending me so much kindness.

5

2010-12-05T09:00:00.011+02:00

(encyclopaedia illustration, handmade paper, paper, mother-of-pearl discs, thread)

Dandelions. I like them more than I should.

4

2010-12-04T09:00:00.000+02:00

(vintage school book illustration, paper, linen thread)

3

2010-12-03T09:00:00.002+02:00

(handmade paper, paper, shells)

Last Christmas I received a large collection of shells and pebbles and other small treasures from my godmother P. This year some of those pieces made their way to the calendar.

There's some exceptional braveness going on at my place. Sticking to deadlines, studying for exams. For once I have a good reason to look forward to Christmas and the luxury of lazing around for a couple of weeks. Christmas can't come soon enough.

2

2010-12-02T09:00:00.003+02:00

(paper, encyclopaedia illustration, dictionary text)

man in the street / kadunmies

A couple of weeks ago the university library sold tons of old books. I behaved and only made V buy me a handful to cut up. Apparently, in 1959, it was important for a Finn to know the phrase man in the street.It was in the dictionary of foreign words, where I also found comme ci, comme ça. I can't remember if it was my mother or someone else who said so, but I remember that phrase from my childhood. Komsii komsaa.

1

2010-12-01T09:00:00.001+02:00

(vintage encyclopaedia illustration of a perch, Japanese paper, tissue paper, found piece of a saw blade, linen thread)

The first day of the Paperiaarre advent calendar is finally here. A matchbox a day until the 24th (as a Finn I'm already done with Christmas on the 25th and hopefully just eating chocolate and enjoying a good book), nothing Christmassy, everything recycled, scavenged and found. Please stop by at Bossaliina to take a peek and have a slice of cake and a cup of coffee while you're there. Everything's great there, you won't be disappointed!

Breathing when it's cold

2010-11-28T17:37:00.000+02:00

When it's -15 degrees celcius outdoors, it feel so much colder here by the sea in Turku than in the inland area where I grew up. -15 isn't freezing cold yet, and you can still find enough warm clothes to layer and not feel terribly cold outside. But you can't wrap a scarf around your lungs. The cold goes in with every breath you take. I've never been very good at breathing. Wrapping a scarf over your face is an option, but after a while the scarf is all wet and smells of a wet animal (for some reason, more like a wet dog than a wet sheep), so that's not something you want to do when the temperature isn't too bad yet. So first you breathe through your nose, and it's going fairly well, but after a short while you have a runny nose, and it's too cold to take of your mittens and blow your nose every two minutes, and in the long run you don't want to use your mittens to wipe your nose, for obvious reasons (okay, fine, sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do), so you start breathing through your mouth. And that hurts. Quite a lot. The cold air makes you cough and the coughing makes your eyes water and the tears make your face freeze (and your mascara run, if you happen to wear something that's not waterproof). And when you finally get to go in, it's still going to hurt, the breathing, the face, all that. But once your breathing is back to normal and the cold white spots in the middle of your red blotchy cheeks are turning reddish again, you really feel like you've done something brave. (And forgotten the eggs you were supposed to buy while doing it.)

The advent calendar is now officially done, and the first box will be revealed on Wednesday. Not only here, but also live in the lovely cafe I mentioned earlier, Bossaliina! Yay for that! Photos will follow, once December really gets going.

Matchbox Monday 15

2010-11-22T22:52:00.000+02:00

(paper, japanese paper, vintage dictionary page, mother-of-pearl sequins, copper wire)

Feeling slightly optimistic. That's good for a change. Next week I will skip the Matchbox Monday, because the following Wednesday is the first day of my non-Christmas-y matchbox advent calendar. I wasn't planning to do it this year even though it was great fun last time, but after some encouraging words and tons of inspiration and help from V, it's happening again. Creating art makes most other things easier.

Matchbox Monday 14

2010-11-15T09:00:00.000+02:00

(paper, tissue paper, glass pebbles, salt)

This one is made by V. He's the first guest artist in the Matchbox Monday series so far. Maybe there will be more some day. I really had the best Saturday in a long time, making a matchbox after a matchbox, and showing V how it's done. It's good to forget everything else for a moment.

Matchbox Monday 13

2010-11-08T21:31:00.000+02:00

(paper, handmade paper, tissue paper, vintage dictionary page, mother-of-pearl buckle, linen thread)

pause.

It's been a while. It's been a while since I've been me. A little rough here, still, getting rougher, still.

Changing

2010-10-24T16:41:00.000+03:00

Friday morning was the first subzero one for me. When I walked to uni, the leaves on the ground were all frosty and gray, not tired and yellow like the ones in the above photo. In the afternoon, on the train, I watched rivers and ponds and lakes. The further up north I went, the more ice the lakes had. It was merely a very, very thin layer of ice, where the wind hadn't broken it, but ice nonetheless. And the water was blacker than I could've imagined. Yesterday I woke up to a good four-inch slush on the ground and a light snowfall. I was most definitely not prepared for a weather like this. Maybe my poor choice of shoes will give a decent excuse to stay indoors, where it's warm and cozy, most of my vacation week. Maybe I will finally have time to reply your messages and say hello to your lovely blogs.

(Thank you all who wished me luck. The phonetics exams went better than well.)

Matchbox Monday 12

2010-10-18T22:32:00.000+03:00

(handmade paper by yours truly, tea-stained paper, linen thread, pencil)

a fragment from a fragmental poem I wrote earlier this year.

lessons of numbness

järjestän kämmenelleni riviin silmäripsiä
systemaattinen taittovirhe

(the Finnish part is something about eyelashes and astigmatism)

/laɪk/ & /li:k/

2010-10-18T19:17:00.000+03:00

I like the sound of raking leaves with a steel rake (however, I do not like raking leaves). I like the maple leaves taking over streets even when there's not a single tree in sight. I like the wind messing up my once carefully combed hair. I like walking around with a leek sticking out from my handbag. I like people commenting on said leek. I like people commenting on my groceries-as-accessories (so far: milk, oranges, a leek).

I will be back later with a matchbox if humanely possible. (I have English phonetics exam first thing tomorrow morning, and phonemically speaking /aɪm ɪgˈzɔstəd/.)

heartbeat

2010-10-14T22:46:00.000+03:00

Thirty seconds of sunshine after the rain. Then it went back to feeling like my heart was very quickly making its way out my chest. Life's too fast for me.

Matchbox Monday 11

2010-10-11T22:30:00.000+03:00

(handmade papers, tissue paper, rusty nails, linen thread)

Still suffering from a sore wrist as well as ennui. I'm hoping for some more hours to my days, so I could spend more time wasting time. (I believe I'm a quite ordinary girl deep down inside.)

Bossaliina

2010-10-05T22:57:00.000+03:00

Too much of a good thing is wonderful. Good times amidst the worrying and ailing. Last weekend I finally visited the new cafe around the corner with two very special girls. Now they're gone away again, but the cafe is here to stay. Homework is so much more tolerable if you can have a brownie and a tall glass of perfect orange juice on the side.

Matchbox Monday 10

2010-10-04T17:32:00.000+03:00

(vintage book page, paper, board)

She/He was trying to imagine the story behind the incident.

A bright, windy day. The fallen leaves were rustling, my heels were doing their click-click thing, my light silk wool dress was floating around me in the gusts as I walked to the university today. Everything was pretty much perfect apart from the fact that I kept worrying if my neat, sharp bangs were history because of the wind (they weren't, I've learned to use hairspray in generous amounts - but damn are these bangs feeding my already numerous neuroses). So, everything actually was perfect on the outside, but it only made it harder to bear that nothing felt right. I'm sick of my wrist hurting, my nose running and my skin itching. I'm now allergic to the treatment for my allergy, hence the itching. Today is the most beautiful day of all autumn and I just can't think of anything but how badly I want to be someone else, to have someone else's life, an easy life, preferably. A life with no allergies, a life without social anxiety, a life without most of the things I currently have to deal with. Somehow English grammar and phonetics are the only things that seem to be making any sense right now. I wish I'd fit into a category. (I'd be happy to be other fricatives or a prepositional phrase...)

Men

2010-09-29T19:56:00.000+03:00

A collage I made on Amelia's great experimental art e-course before my wrist started acting up. Click to enlarge. I used old magazine images, a vintage dictionary page, recycled kraft paper, vellum paper, tissue paper, wax paper, silk thread and at least three different kinds of glue. I like glue. Almost as much as I like my knives and rulers.

I'm unnaturally fascinated by sibilants and fricatives and phonetics in general. I just wish my vocal tract would cooperate. Today everything is nasal. Apparently it's impossible for me to go through a month without catching a cold.

The blog world has been exceptionally kind to me in the past couple of months or so. A big thank you to everyone who has featured my work in their blog or Etsy treasury, and to everyone who has told a friend about Paperiaarre or linked to my blog. It really makes me happy to see more and more people come here every day. I leave you with a couple of links tonight, but my thankyou is much larger than this small list of links.

Geninne
Geninne on Girls Can Blog
oktak
edward and lilly