Somehow I forgot to post this here on Kimi’s actual birthday but I am pretty proud of it and all the compliments I got really did my self-esteem a world of good. So if you’re responsible for one of the 23,500(ish) views or you’re among the 172 people who liked it, I want to thank you, chances are we’d be good friends. And those 2 dislikes… I will find you. Just kidding. I guess 🙂 Happy Belated Kimi Day!
Two weeks and another birthday party later, it was time for the Snookerbacker Classic once again. The South West 
Snooker Academy in Gloucester hosted the second and third leg of the event on Friday and Saturday.
Keeping track of the action online, it seemed like great fun and I’m happy to be a small part of this event even if I can’t be there in person to see those talented guys (and girls) fight for a place in the final. I’ll have to settle for watching these lovely photo galleries from Friday and Saturday. Also, you can find a detailed review of both events here. For the ladies reading this, unfortunately, there are less cake photos this time , but there’s a cute kid and several talented young men worth looking at 🙂
Anyway, here are the drawings and some photos of the four qualifiers from this weekend. Don’t know if I mentioned this before but the two drawings of the waistcoats are actually modeled after Mark Selby. Yeah, I’m a bit biased but what’s the point in having an obsession if you can’t enjoy it? 🙂
Just click on the drawings to open the larger, more detailed image.
As the extended summer is now officially over, I managed to find two final reasons to distract myself from the madness that lies ahead starting this autumn. First there was my birthday; the hottest, most agitated, “can’t feel my legs by the end of it (and not because of all the dancing)” anniversary I remember having. It wasn’t my plan to spend it so far away from home, but I still had lovely people around me to keep me in a good mood and I’m thankful for that 🙂
The following day was just as busy, but as I was enjoying the view above, about 2500 miles away there was something a bit more serious going on. I’m obviously talking about the first leg of the famous Snookerbacker Classic 2013 🙂 Now most of the people reading this probably know what that is and the rest are most certainly aware of my snooker obsession at least so I won’t go into great detail but you can find all the info here. The reason I’m mentioning it is that I had the chance to bring my little contribution to the event by doodling some colourful stuff for the lucky and talented qualifiers. I’ll post some photos of the drawings as soon as each event takes place, so here’s a little something from the first one:
The event seemed like a lot of fun and you can read a bit about it here and here and there’s also a photo gallery (spoiler alert – contains some delicious-looking cakes and one handsome Aussie).
Nicely framed on the tournament desk
Oliver Lines is the first to qualify for Finals Day
Once upon a time there was this girl who had a delightful imagination. She was well-behaved and rather quiet, but only because the world in her head was much more alluring than what she saw around her. She never broke the rules. She was charming and never scared, not even of her idealistic thoughts. She was friendly with children because they were the only ones that found it natural to understand her whimsical nature. She collected bubblegum stickers, but only the pretty and colourful ones. She kept them in the lacy jewelry box her grandmother gave her. She loved it, but she didn’t like wearing shiny rings, not even delicate bracelets, she didn’t feel like she needed to impress anyone. She didn’t need it truly, she always made an impression with her winding ruby hair, perfectly fitted pastel dresses and lips as soft as a dragonfly’s wings.
She went to sleep at night hypnothised by the shadows on her on ceiling, thinking about how much better it would be if life were a perfect tale. She couldn’t remember the moment she closed her eyes but as soon as she did, an iridescent sky was spreading above her. She got up from the perfectly groomed grass, knocking over a porcelain tea cup that was sitting precariously close to the edge of a metal garden table with rusty paint. The white surface turned for an instant into a deep purple, just before it pourred off the table and onto her delicate sundress. She felt a passing scent of berries before she realized the lilac stain will prove rather difficult to take out from the silky fabric. She must be dreaming, surely, and this must be barely a footnote in a big dramatic chapter.
She looked up and noticed the winding street, the symetric houses painted in pure pastel colours and the personalized mailboxes that told a perfect story about their owners. It seemed like one of those places with pampered flowering hedges that you’re not allowed to touch, where you can leave the kids’ bicycle in the front yard without any worries and where dogs are too blissful to bark away at squirrels. That must be true enough, it’s a dream after all, isn’t it?
While she passed the freshly painted little white fences she thought these were the kind of people that were always respectul, that helped their neighbours fix their porch, that did their laundry on time and never fought over what cereal to buy or whose family to visit for Christmas. Oh, Christmas, just imagine the sprinkly lights covering every inch of those cozy welcoming walls. As she admired an adorable square house next to a dusty yellow dog house, she noticed a tremendous hot air ballon in the boldest, most hypnotising of colours. She barely noticed that the playground around it was as deserted as the rest of that tiny town. Surely this is meant to lead to the plot of this chapter, right?
She climbed into it without fear, she knew it couldn’t crash anyway. The colossal puffy ballon lifted softly and slowly until she could see how peaceful and perfect everything was from above. Terribly peaceful. While the playful wind made her dress rustle slighly, it became more and more obvious to her that there was genuinely no one down there; she had imagined those perfect strangers around her but there were no friends to throw her birthday parties and then forget the cake, and no family to remind her of that Easter when she ruined her fancy dress by chasing a baby possum or the summer she gave up her favourite doll for a postcard depicting a fairytale cottage lost in colourful wild flowers and a freshly painted little white fence.
Maybe that purple stain wasn’t as bad as she thought.
Once upon a time there was this girl who wasn’t afraid of loneliness. She was charming and well-mannered, she always did a little curtsey and men greeted her with a bow. They would occasionally kiss her hand but she disliked it most times. She never turned her back on someone and always assumed the best about people. She hid the way she felt and her words were as pleasant and polished as a porcelain swan but just as plain too. She never dared to say no and always knew the proper thing to do. Her hair was always smooth and tied up in a chignon. She only wore long dresses with delicate lace and small ribbons and never came down to breakfast in pajamas.
She took long walks in her tame garden because it was the place she felt safe in. Her skin was fair, and her cheeks were never rosy. She never liked afternoon teas or balls or dinners and just like every Tuesday night, she was sitting in the grass outside her faithful butler’s window, waiting for him to play the piano. She didn’t know what the song was but he always played it at the same time every Tuesday evening. Every evening until that day; he would never play again.
She never felt pain like that before. Or maybe she had but she never showed it. She spend a gloomy day and a grievous night looking at that grey rusty piano. In the late hours she heard a neigh outside, the one horse she didn’t know it was her job to take to the stable now. She gently walked towards him, while he stepped mercilessly on her fragile iris flowers. She didn’t know how to ride a horse so she just grabbed the harness and went wherever he took her. They walked out of the garden and into the tempestuous wild woods surrounding it.
They walked long hours and never-ending miles, with her holding him tight while the gentle flowery lace on her dress got caught in rough hedges and torn branches. He finally stopped in a wild flower meadow, full of half-faded poppies. She lay down on the ground and watched the stars. They looked different in her garden, the sky didn’t seem endless anymore but the green tree tops seemed to embrace and caress it softly. It might have been the most mesmerizing thing she ever saw, the blinking lights, the rough grass, the faint trill, the intoxicating smell, the fascina…
In the early hours her dress was shredded and stained and her horse wasn’t anywhere in sight but she never felt more safe and affectionate, like in a cherished lucid dream.
M-am strecurat tiptil pe gaura cheii ÅŸi m-am apropiat cu paÅŸi uÅŸori de patul tău. Pătura albastră alunecase de pe tine, probabil în urma prea multor vise, ÅŸi tocmai mă pregăteam să te acopăr la loc, când, deodată, s-a întâmplat…m-am prins în capcana ta. Oh, de ce Å£i-ai lăsa capcanele aruncate la întâmplare prin cameră, ÅŸi mai ales lângă pat? Ai putea să te răneÅŸti în ele. Dar până la urmă e vina mea, ce caut aici în miez de noapte? De ce vizitez un străin care nici… oh, nu mai contează, dormi atât de frumos, cu parul răvăşit ÅŸi cu un zâmbet ÅŸtrengar pe buze. ÃŽnsă capcana asta mă stânge atât de tare încât incepe să doară. Trebuie să ai o cheie pe undeva ascunsă ÅŸi eu mai am o noapte întreagă să o găsesc.
M-am aÅŸezat încet pe covor ÅŸi am început să caut prin cutiile decolorate din jurul meu. Nimic în formă de cheie nu sclipeÅŸte, poate e prea mică scăparea mea, să o pot vedea. NiÅŸte poze vechi, o jucărie colorată, un caiet cu poezii…ne-am fi jucat atât de frumos împreună, dar am crescut fără să ne intersectăm vreodată drumurile; iar acum adorm pe covorul tău. E moale ÅŸi deja începuseră să mă învăluie fantasmele, era inevitabil…
Nu ÅŸtiu cât am dormit, dar m-am trezit când visul tău te-a făcut să te răsuceÅŸti brusc iar sub tine arcurile au cântat o romanţă prăfuită. Am încercat să mă ridic dar rochia era strânsă în jurul meu, iar eu abia reuÅŸeam să mai respir. Pesemne am avut un somn zbuciumat sau visele mi-au fost prea colorate. ÃŽmi era frică să nu respir prea tare ÅŸi să te trezesc; nu mi-aÅŸ fi putut ierta daca îţi pierdeai din vina mea zâmbetul acela senin de pe chip. “Trebuie să mă liniÅŸtesc.” am gândit imediat ÅŸi mi-am îndreptat privirea spre fereastră. Un cer sclipitor mă privea de sus ca un prinÅ£ mândru de regatul lui. Eram amândoi sub acelaÅŸi cer, dar fiecare pierdut în gândurile ÅŸi speranÅ£ele lui. Am suspinat discret la gândul asta în timp ce priveam steaua căzătoare din colÅ£ul ferestrei; era ca ÅŸi cum cerul se abÅ£inea să nu plânga ÅŸi totuÅŸi i-a scăpat o lacrimă.
Pătura alunecase de tot ÅŸi într-un final a căzut din pat, la picioarele mele. Chiar dacă albastrul ei nu era la fel de intens, era atât de fină încât stelele ar fi fost invidioase că nu sunt ÅŸi ele întinse la picioarele mele. Am zâmbit; uitasem că pentru asta venisem, să-Å£i veghez somnul lin ÅŸi să-Å£i leagăn visele printre stele. M-am ridicat cu pătura strânsă în braÅ£e ÅŸi m-am aplecat asupra ta. ÃŽn timp ce aÅŸezam atent colÅ£urile păturii Å£i-am atins umărul din greÅŸeala; însă tu nici n-ai tresărit. Dormeai liniÅŸtit în timp ce pe mine mă atingeau fiori reci. Nu ÅŸtiu dacă era din cauza ta sau frigul îmi  mângâia corpul firav, dar m-am întins lângă tine, pe un colÅ£ din perna ta. Pielea îţi era atât de fierbinte ÅŸi patul atât de moale sub mine…
Somnul îmi zburase de mult, undeva între momentul în care Å£i-am simÅ£it respiraÅ£ia atât de caldă ÅŸi cel în care m-am pierdut între braÅ£ele tale curioase. Åži atunci am simÅ£it bucăţica de metal fierbinte ce atârna strâmb la gâtul tău. Găsisem cheia aurită pe care renunÅ£asem să o mai caut. ÃŽntr-un vis ideal aÅŸ fi lăsat-o la locul ei, aÅŸ fi uitat ÅŸi aÅŸ fi intrat în mirajul tău, dar o voce mică tot ar fi strigat că poate ar trebui să mă eliberez ÅŸi să mă trezesc…
“Bună dimineaÅ£a, Frankie. Nu ÅŸtiu de ce, dar am sentimentul că nu prea am dormit în noaptea asta.”
Jeff Beck – I put a spell on you
Îţi iubesc miezul rece, corpul fin şi pufos, învelişul strălucitor şi zgomotul stricat pe care îl faci cand muşc din tine. Când te simt ma opresc; chiar dacă corpul mi se mişcă în continuare, eu sunt tot acolo, fără să-mi pese unde merg. Ţi-aş cânta, dar mi-e frică; nu că as putea părea stingheră sau nebună, ci că nu m-ai înţelege. Uite, sunt aici, şi nu-mi pasă că poate ţie nu ţi-ar păsa, pentru ca nu îţi simt absenţa. Dar îţi simt prea mult prezenţa. Vreau să fi departe, să văd dacă sentimentul ăsta pleacă cu tine, dar mi-e teamă că o să aleagă să te caute, să acopere tot pamantul, să se întindă peste tot drumul până la tine ca să te prindă; şi o să fie atât întins încât o să înceapă să doară. E ca şi cum, după ce mi-ai intrat pe sub piele, ai vrea sa fugi. Şi faptul că te las nu face scăparea mai uşoară. Pielea mă doare şi tremur tot mai tare cu fiecare mişcare a ta, cu fiecare centimetru cu care mă părăseşti. Dar ştiu că îmi merit durerea, e greşeala mea că te-am lăsat să intri fără niciun fel de obstacol, fără măcar vreo normă care să-ţi zică să laşi papucii la intrare. Ne-am jucat rolurile greşit, sub nişte măşti evidente în culoarea propriei noastre dureri. Şi n-am ştiut să le citim; sau măcar să fi vrut asta. Poate trebuia să-mi desenezi un copac, o inimă, pe tine. O schemă e mult mai de ajutor decât o minciună. Dar nimeni nu-ţi dă o schema a inimii lor. E incomod şi dureros şi nu asta ne dorim: un sado-masochist al sentimentelor. Se presupune că asta dă misterul, şi că misterul e bun, dar toţi înafară de Sherlock Holmes ştiu undeva adânc ca e ca o gaură neagră în care te dizolvi lent. Însă e atât de captivant faptul că la celălalt capăt al ei i-ai putea manipula atât de uşor pe ceilalţi. E ca un pact inconştient cu diavolul; ajungi să te minţi singur, să trăieşti singur, înconjurat de suflete dar izolat ca printr-un zid chinezesc care te ţine captiv în propria enigmă.
Mă tot intreb dacă te-aş mai cunoaşte, dar ştiu deja răspunsul. Eu nu sunt aceeaşi cum nici tu nu eşti. Nu te-am cunoscut niciodată şi parcă pe parcurs ce prind curaj să trag perdelele brodate cu vise din jurul meu mă atacă mulţimea de motive pe care le-ai avut, le-ai fi avut sau îmi imaginez că ţi-ar fi aparţinut. Acum muşcăturile lor nu mai dor, dar rănile întreabă. Nu înveţi să trăieşti cu ele pâna nu au sens; şi nu capătă sens până nu ai răspunsuri. E uşor să minţi frumos de dragul poveştii, când de fapt Albă ca Zăpada nu s-a mai trezit şi Cenuşăreasa şi-a pierdut ambii pantofi.
Da, iubesc zăpada pentru că nu trebuie să-mi pese dacă mă iubeşte la rândul ei.
Azi, fortata de imprejurari, m-am vazut nevoita sa-mi impachetez urmele si sa le arunc intr-un geamantan. Dar in timp ce-mi indesam visele printre sosete si palarii, mi-a zburat o bucatica de hartie prin fata ochilor; si impreuna cu ea, si un buchet de amintiri aromate… Insomnia, cartofi copti, lapte cu miere, zambete colorate si printre ele si o carte care m-a facut sa…suspin.
“Suspinul tău
Născut din tăcerea
Alunecoasă a universului
În mișcare
Asudat
Îmi mai atârnă încă în spatele
Urechii
Semănând în mintea mea
Obosită
Tresăriri de emoție
Sacadată,
Picurată în suflet
De fiecare atingere
A cerului
Gata să se prăbușească
Într-o crăpătură a inimii mele
Acolo unde exiști doar tu
Și suspinele.”
(Adrian Furnica)
When fairytales end, childhood heroes go ‘On Air’. In animated cartoons, I mean. Well, I have to admit those two-hour-Sunday-mornin’ shows were much more enjoyable than today’s neo-cartoons that look more like never-ending soap operas (oh, and by the way, I just found out – with a little Wiki help – that there really is something called “Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome”. Pretty weird.) Now back to our business, here comes a brief list of cartoons that used to make my day…and they still do that. So, what did I get after wasting appreciable time (and neurons) in front of the TV? Here it comes…
1. Sailor Moon Series
Well, now that I think about it, I guess this is the main reason for wanting to become a blonde and probably here lie the ‘roots’ to my habit of wearing strange home-made things in my hair. Despite that, I absolutely loved everything about Sailor Moon: that bright-eyed manga-anime design, the music, the cats, the good vs. bad theme and even the male characters (which looked more like girls). Yes, I was addicted. Yes, I spent huge amounts of time and money on everything related to it (even if it was only a plastic wand-like thing with a little half-moon attached). And yes, I still consider making myself a long white dress just like Usagi’s (even though I liked Ami and Rei more).
Here you have the last episode, the one that proved to me that love can actually hurt (there’s some decent amount of domestic violence 😛 ), and that kiss impressed me more than the Titanic; which I’m not a big fan of, by the way.
2. Tom and Jerry
This one’s a classic. We all know it, we’ve all seen at least one episode of this continuous chase filled with hilarious ‘pit-stops’. Of course, I’m a big fan of Jerry, for showing me how a cute little being can trick a badass kitten and get away with it. Even Lang Lang, the great piano player said in an interview that he was inspired by a certain episode, in which they played tho piano; and I guess it’s this one:
3. Heathcliff and the Catillac Cats vs. Garfield and Friends
Both kitty stories featuring two witty bossy cats. There’s Heathcliff, the one with ‘amazing garbage can dumping abilities’ and there’s Garfield, the more cynical, royal and sarcastic type of tabby cat, but still with a soft side for his teddy bear, Pooky, and of course food and sleep. They were like gangsters, except they were kitties and they had much gentler missions.
“Heathcliff, Heathcliff, no one should
Terrify their neighborhood
But Heathcliff just won’t be undone
Playing pranks on everyone”
PS: Mel Blanc’s voice just fits him like a glove.
Motto: When the lasagna content in my blood gets low, I get mean.
4. Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!
This one’s really easy: it’s mainly the reason I thought forensics was my destiny; I always caught the bad guy 🙂
5. The Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Show (Loony Tunes)
Well, that’s not only part of my childhood, but also of my recent years. I started watching again the Loony Tunes Golden Collection and it’s still fun, even if I stopped running along Road Runner and kind of yelling “What’s up Doc?” again and again, like a mantra 🙂
But I must say that my favorites in the loony gang are Tweety and Sylvester:
BONUS:
Yeah, I admit I still love cartoons. Most of them are the type kids aren’t allowed to watch, like South Park or American Dad, but Disney Channel has got some nice innocent ones that make me smile:
Phineas and Ferb: Original, creative, fun and it makes me regret I don’t have brothers 🙂
Kid vs. Kat : Some sort of re-invention of Tom & Jerry, but with a futuristic twist. I never thought I’d like so much a pink bald cat 🙂
Well, that was just a quick list, there sure are others that slipped my mind right now 🙂
The Wednesday Society 