lundi 30 janvier 2012

Au Revoir Mon Soleil

"Hunting season is over. Tomorrow, I'll be hung to death in the woods."

See, at first I really thought that animal friendly organisations were exagerating  the fate of the podenco/galgos dogs in Spain- you have to, these days, to catch people's attention and get their help.  Turns out the evidence is rather overwhelming.

Now, massacring dogs happens in many countries. But in this case, they're actually bred by humans  and then killed when they are no longer useful.. And this to a massive scale.

I'm not going to give you any link; do your own research if the topic intrigues you.
For the next post I'll try to do something cute or joyful.. Promised!

(Post title from the song "Goûte moi ce soleil" from Mannick.)

mardi 24 janvier 2012

dimanche 15 janvier 2012

Sunday Cuteness.

Real scene stolen in one of these modern -sprinter-trains-without-toilets-in-them (I refer to them as such because everytime a dutch person talks about these trains, they grumble about the fact that they're no toilets in them. Apparently it's a very big deal.) 

jeudi 12 janvier 2012


I like inks. So what?
I've linked to some of my favorite songs here, here and here. Feel free to click if you'd like an example of their music.
And of course thanks to Alysia for this amazing discovery :-)

dimanche 8 janvier 2012

Mon moulin

This drawing is a metaphor for the fate of a place very dear to my heart, but also life in general. Night is falling, water level is rising, and we cling to our windmills and watch because, what else is there to do?

Drawing largely inspired by one of JM's poems, below (which I am not going to do him the insult to   translate. For the non french speakers, it speaks of a windmill that water is slowly surrounding, and how it's time to sing in it before it's entierely gone.)

Si le monde veut finir demain
J’irai attendre dans mon moulin
Que l’eau me lèche les bottes.

Si quelqu’un me rejoint
On chantera
-Jusqu’à ce que l’eau
Nous gonfle les poumons-
Des chants marins
Dans mon moulin.

La porte ne ferme plus
Chacun est bienvenu
Apportez vos histoires
Accordez vos guitares
Et vos cordes vocales
Ensemble nous chanterons
Le vent les vagues
Le ressac dans nos crânes
Des chants marins dans mon moulin.
Si le monde veut finir demain
Je t’attendrai dans mon moulin
Ne viens pas trop tard.

Mais si il fait noir
Je brûlerai ses ailes
J’en ferai un phare.
Et tu entendras
Bercée par la mer
Dans le lointain
Les chants marins de mon moulin.
Et les mouettes viendront picorer nos refrains. 


dimanche 1 janvier 2012