2 posts tagged “stencil”
Since my moving out has lately been gaining about as much momentum as a snowball going downhill ( which you realize, unfortunately too late, is coming straight at you), I've been busy not only trying to come up with a somewhat livable layout for the flat, but also, not intending to be beat by my sister's (soon to be inferior) mural, with the upcoming mural(-s) for the walls of the flat.
Luckily, legality isn't an issue, since it's more or less OK to do this kind of stuff, but there are of course a few problems:
- First of all, since the primary wall I'm intending to paint is 2,50m x5,00m, I'm pretty sure artistic megalomania will hit pretty quickly once I start making the actual stencil. Small things just won't do.
- Secondly, while I DO have quite a few ideas sketched out already ( and safely stowed away, mind you), most of what I actually draw nowadays is limited to A5-bits of paper next to the computer with a ball-point pen. In itself, tiny drawings aren't the problem, since blowing them up is one of the lesser problems in life, but their actual lifespan is the root of the problem - daddy having a habit of throwing most of them away before I get the chance to scavenge them for further planning. The fact that he crumples them up isn't exactly helping ( nor encouraging) either.
Luckily, the stencil in itself, as well as painting it, is a few days task, at best, so once I'v actually nurtured my roughs and sketches into something more production-friendly, it shouldn't be very long 'til it's up there.
Of course, actually living in the flat will speed things up even more. But for now it's back to the drawing board.
First off, I'd like to appologize for not having posted about this earlier, but having your computer crash just before you've finished writing a post of magnanimous proportions, a veritable Renoir of rambling, is, if anything, a deterrent to re-writing it all over. Thank you, Microsoft, for not making your programs remember what they were doing prior to engaging in epic battle with the Bluescreen Of Death!
Anyway,
Thanks to Finnish legislature, I was able to talk my boss into giving me an extra day off after May 1st, conjoining the festivities with the weekend, giving me a huge 4 day holiday ( hey, I take what I can get) which I'd dedicate to stress-testing the ol' hammock and see if I still had it in me (slacking, that is).
Unfortunately, like most women in my life, my sister caught me unawares and suggested that I'd come over to their place and actually paint that stencil she'd been bugging me about on her wall.
Me, of course, having practically finished the stencil itself save for some fine-tuning, couldn't come up with a good excuse to save my holiday-plans, and proceeded with giving her an answer that would have made such linguistic superheroes like Lolcat and Sly Stallone proud: "Uuuh, but...uhm, it's-uhh... not really ready yet, bu-...durr, I dunno, umm, I guess.."
i has mad spekskillz.
Aproximately three hours later, I find myself driving my sister and her hubby back to their place, ~160km away, in their car, with stencil and artsy curriculum in hand. Me driving, because everybody else is still a wee bit tipsy after the festivities. Once there I proceed with doing what every sensible, hung over, able-bodied male would do: I sleep it off.
The next morning I find myself virtually alone in my sister's pad (virtually, since hubby's still there, chit-chatting and unknowingly emanating a disturbing sense of "we're expecting things". Luckily, he leaves about an hour later.) , and I promptly do the finishing touches on the stencil, "ironing out the edges" so to speak.
Time goes by to about noon, and I've gotten the biggest island and the most annoying parts up on the wall, save for a few bits.
This is the part where I realize that I, in fact, did forget something at home.
20 minutes and 300 non-social words later, I start making new ones.
Don't get me wrong, making this wasn't such a no-thrills ride as I may make it sound; truth is, I was stressed out as fu-...dge, since the closest thing I've been to painting walls has had me watch paint dry and by the time I actually
got to slapping the first layer of paint on, it felt about as bad of an idea as pissing on an electric fence.
Luckily, after a bumpy beginning comes a really smooth downhill-ride. Once the actual technique had developed, everything went pretty smoothly. My sister going "ooh, ooh, ooh" every time I did something new to it did help, of course, but the funky stench of "results!" was thick enough to cut a thesis out of.
It is, of course, easier to deal with the same sex than the opposite, evidenced by hubby being pleased of my progress in a very different way. Cleavage, be it boobs or butt, is always good, no matter what you're doing, and as far as success-rates go, I'd already hit the Golden Valley.
Speaking of Golden Valley ( actually not, but let's change the subject, anyway), hubby ( if you follow my sister's blog, I can probably admit that it's Sami) decided to treat me to a movie, quite possibly because, knowing my sister, she wouldn't be caught dead watching Iron Man.
So off we went to Helsinki for a movie-night out on the town. Robert Downey Jr. was great, obviously, but the thing that really got me were the Finnish chicks in the capitol. Being from a small town (by international standards; 200,000 is pretty big in a country with only 5.3 million people), I hadn't really been prepared for the possibility of being oggled by the opposite sex, especially not that openly. Once is lucky, but let it happen twice and I make it a law; having been eye-balled by beautiful girls on both of my most recent trips to Hell(sinki) was pretty much the most uplifting and self-esteem-escalating things, like, ever. This, of course, makes me even more anxious to move there this Fall, but for now I'll have to keep it in my pants. Oh well.
Once we get home I find both of my sisters tanked on the sofa; apparently, two guys out on movie-night is safer than two girls having a movie-night at home...
Unfortunately, I have to cut this short, since the 'puter's making funny sounds and starting to smell funny. But before I reach for the fire-extinguisher, here's a poser-shot of me and, well, lil' miss Cleavage.
