"Had it been another day I might have looked the other way"

Dear Diary,

I opened a new key in my visual composing. I gained A-major back, haven’t been able to use it in 11 years. Someone came and took my broken eyes, turned them back to me and the light he reflected made me see again. It’s amazing. Have you noticed that people smile? They hold hands? Like before I met this incredible person, all I saw around was crying babies and dying birds, like things that are beyond consolation or help - now time is standing firmly on its own feet again, without me having to lift or carry it, difficult to explain… Like I can move smoothly in time and space, no need to push it, I just… glide.



Took a decent picture. It’s about love, snow angels and eternal light. I look quite beautiful in it. Hadn’t noticed that before either. Long exposure, 15 seconds, I think I lost two or three toes while standing in the snow, I am not sure yet. We’ll see.

I actually shiver, random tears of joy touch my headphones as I am listening to music while writing this - I have always loved ”I’ve just seen a face” on Help! (by The Beatles) because of its incredible rhythm and beat, like it’s just one of those super tunes to listen to while you dream about finding the love of your lifetime by looking outside the bus window and someone would just stand there and you’d know. I have scanned the crowds for over a decade, but hadn’t seen the face. I just knew, that when the time comes, I know. Without hesitation, being in zenith of calm, like I could take it as a fact. I’ve just seen the face.


Besides me having found a soulmate, other incredible things have happened too. All this took place in Helsinki last week, the filming also in Joensuu where I live, gonna talk about it later, just hold on… An American film-director found my works (!) online and he emailed me some time ago whether or not I’d be interested in making a feature length documentary about me, as he really liked my stuff - he had also stalked some of my videos on Facebook, which he found fascinating, so he actually flew from London to Helsinki to meet me, and then later took a train to this dead-end town Joensuu in Eastern-Finland to film, and it was great. I mean, CRAZY, in its superlative, so intense, so challenging, so rewarding, so… new to me. The documentary will be released internationally and despite my awful fearfulness of cameras (and people) the director said I did good job in the interviews!

Going quite well for a small-town girl, huh?



"All my dreams, all my dreams fall like rain on a downtown train"

Good heavens, I am knackered. Absolutely exhausted. I just finished working on “Realistic Love Doll”, and pulled a full-blown trial/error-photoshoot on “Guns don’t kill people. Trump kills people” tonight. The first was so tricky to edit, that I almost lost my zen and threw my laptop out of the window and then tossed my body after it. Of course, as I live on the first floor it would have been more like a “cry for help”-thing, so after contemplating all the options I have I decided just continue working on it - it took 26 hours of editing job and 223 versions until I got it close to the point of acceptable. I simulated 2 promille alcohol poisoning by staying up until five AM, listening to the simplest disco tunes from 90s - “Barbie Girl” by Aqua on repeat does something to the brain, just saying.

I think I chose way too plain colour combination on the love doll-picture, yellow on yellow is like so drag, no nuances on the image, so I just kept on pushing it and pushing it - I guess I eventually got pretty close to how I saw it, but I just have to remember not to repeat the mistakes. I shot the key light a tad too close and didn’t check its angle before opening the file on Photoshop. Anyhow, it’s yesterdays news now, and just had to let it go, otherwise I would have gone mad.

Trump was a five minutes-editing job, very little corrections to be made.



I have been thinking about the contest I left an application to - I have no idea how it will turn out. I can usually separate work things from my private life, but if I can be totally honest with you, it loops in my brain. In a way I think there’s no way that I’ll be selected to the exhibition for artists under 35 years, as I am too loud, too colourful, not academic enough (in the sense that I would jerk off my ideas intellectually in a form of an essay and call it part of the work), too much, too little… The results come by the end of this month, I am scared shitless that a) my name is on the list b) my name is NOT on the list. If… I was selected, I don’t know how it would affect on my working, would I get cocky? Like “Hey you peasants, I am one of the chosen artists for this exhibition everyone in Finland wants to get in, kiss my hands, kiss my feet” and drive around Helsinki in a convertible vintage Jaguar I’d steal from someone rich and do the royal hand wave from the passenger seat while my bestie screams “WE DON’T SELL MONKEYS” or something like that, for no apparent reason.

If I am not selected, I kiss my pooch goodbye, go to the woods, crawl into a fetal position and stay there until a bear comes and eats my head.

It would mean so much to me, to get credit for the work I do. I don’t think about the status, or the money (I’d just spend it on tennis balls or something equally irrelevant), only the credit. It would be a giant reward, to me, to get nominated but then again, everyone who applied feels probably the same.


Despite Rod Stewart’s few awful albums, he is a brilliant vocalist. It slowly dawned on me while I was editing the love doll-picture. I listened to “Downtown Train” on repeat for at least two or three hours and didn’t get used to the perfection of it. He took me on a journey, and stayed with me there until he gasps the few last high notes - his presence and technique is absolutely flawless. Things like these keep me going. Like finding passion, in a world that is filled with blurred, plastic objects and zero subjects.

Time for bed, I guess… See you soon.