Wine and Abele, kick-ass-combo? You tell me…

Ahm working on the Anton Abele-comic.

an’ drinkin’ red whaaaynnnh.

Result of this combo: I’ve gotten all mooshie and sqooshie from the wine, and now I just don’t want to draw Anton anymore. I want to draw myself looking all mooshie and sqooshie… with a beautiful bearded man instead… Mmm… But you know the story, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do…

Here’s what I’ve got so far

Haha, I look totally wasted in the last panel! That was so unintentional!

Sorry to say that I don’t have the braincapacity to translate this tonight…

aaand aaalsooo, there’s more wine to be druuunk… so I better get to it.

tscheeeheheeheeehe… ^_^

G’night sweetcheaks!

Egentligen sa hon “Nej tyvärr, inte idag!” med sitt lysande leende

- Give us a kiss?

My big sister is nice to everyone.

- Oh, haha, no I’m sorry, but thanks anyway!

Father-dear. And me losing faith in love

A few months back I began working on a comic about my dad and how my upbringing has affected me.

After rewriting some pages and a few minor image changes I consider it finished. Though I’m not 100 % sure on the last panel… Maybe less tears would feel better… ’cause I don’t feel sorry for myself.

Maybe I did when I wrote it… But today the sun is shining and I’m thinking that a romantic relationship isn’t the goal of my life now anyway.

These daddy-issues are actually working in my advantage at the moment. They are probably what spurred my creativity in the first place.

Naaahhh… shouldn’t give all the cred to dad for that… Mom’s been really good at encouraging my expressions in different art forms.

Anywayzzz, here it is. Very bad quality, but when I print it it’ll look much nicer. Might make a fanzine of it for SPX… We’ll see. 

In conclusion;

I like it.

It’s true.

It’s me.  

It’s fifteen pages.

If you’ve read the previous version you can scroll down and enjoy the last two pages of the story.

No, none of us understood any of it, but we both knew that this was the most beautiful gift he had ever given to anyone ever.

Two years… without a word… and then… the most beautiful gift…

That is so fucked up.

The sad thing about it all is that I know that his behaviour has shaped me.

I get obsessed with guys that give me a little attention and then turn cold.

Oh, God. The last one was extremely daddy-issue-projected…

Pathetic Frida.

Will I ever learn?

No. No I’ll never learn.

It’s as if there is no true love for me…

sniff.

only a bottomless need to be seen.

Please dear good God, prove me wrong.

Min vän har upplevt något märkligt, obehagligt och sjukt

Läs om det på hans blogg.

Sister-dear is wise

My sister told me that the last comic I posted could be hurtful. Therefore it has now been removed until I’ve thought this through properly.   I often do things without thinking them through. I count myself lucky to have friends and family to keep me awake and point out my errors so I can better myself. Thank you Ullis. Utan dig är jag en spillra på ett mörkt och stormigt hav.

Have I neglected thee my sweet?

People are fragile things, I should know by now. n’ be carefull what I put them through.

But still… It takes two to tango, as the saying goes. And I can say that I’ve never intentionally hurt anyone.

Petra moved out today. A new girl is moving in tomorrow. Weird. I really liked having Petra in the house. She has such a mellow and warm aura. She’s a loving-kindness-type of person. She just wanted everybody to get along… Reminded me so much of my ex, B…

He was a good man. There are good men out there. But… I don’t want a good man. I don’t deserve a good man.

“He’s a good man, loves his mama, loves music and comic books too. I’m a bad girl, ’cause I don’t even miss him. I’m a bad girl for breaking his heart. And I’m free… free fallin’”

I’ll just keep on keeping on until my well runs dry. I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve and fall in love and get hurt again and again and then I’ll take my pen in hand and draw my heart out again and again and again.

I accept changes in my life. I feel like I’ve let go so many times now that I don’t fear losing people anymore. There are so many people in this world… So many places. So many lives. And mine’s just started. I feel free. Alive. Complete. Independent.

The only one person I couldn’t bear loosing is Ulrika. Without her my world would fall apart.

In conclusion I’ll let Lady Sovereigns words ring true in your ears:

Love me or hate me, It’s still an obsession. (Thnx Lisa)

Love her or hate her, it’s still an obsession, you know…

It’s a lot smarter to forgive than to hate.

Let yourself heal.

Be kind and mellow, even to those who call you their enemy.

I will always choose goodness.

Tillägg: ironiskt att jag postar ett inlägg direkt efter detta där jag är obetänksam och ond. Det är borttaget nu. Men ändå. Ibland är jag för självupptagen för mitt eget bästa. Tragiskt. Jag vill vara god. Hjälp mig att vara god.

For E, my new friend

For E. because you’re funny and give me inspiration.

- ONE MORE ONE MORE ONE MORE ONE MORE ONE MO

- Yeah yeah… chill out. It’s almost finished…

sorry for drawing you with no clothes on… and as a dog…

But it was actually you who put that image in my head!

ehh… hugs on ya…

that little extra sprinkle on top of the pastry

I want to be remembered. I want to be special. I want people to like me. Love me. Adore me.  

So today I’ve drawn a mini-diary-comic for ‘Rico who (after some persuasion…) ordered a fanzine from me. Yes, he was reluctant at first, but Once I have you on the hook, I don’t let go… Winners. Never. Quit. you know… ;)

 

Nearly finished comic

but it doesn’t have a perfect rythm… I’ll work on it some more… Maybe take out all of the caption texts and just go with thought bubbles…

Releaseparty for Rocky Magasine

This party had every prospect of turning out perfect.

Well well well! What’s thiiiis? Could it be Frida in Rocky maybe? Huh?! Could it?!

I had put on the fancy stockings. For him. No one else.

Yeees… riiight… So I too can turn into a pathetic idiot.

You should at least hug when you meet like this. That’s my opinion. Chitchat cordually… Two days ago it was cosy as ever.

Two days prior

Cosy and chill as ever!!!

He was so kind and helpfull then. Gave me everything I wanted. A damn fine night! Aw!

It’s that on off… hot then cold…

That’s what’s making me stick to him.

Turnes me into a whimp that tries to adjust to his likes and dislikes instead of being myself.

HE likes stay-ups. That’s why I have stay-ups.

WASTE! Look at you, being all unnessesary! Stay-up-fuckers!

I talk to other guys at the party. I’m the best! Frikkin awesome! Magical! Rocky! I’m the best! Life!

But no one that will get to see my pretty stockings.

Right here is where I notice I’ve had too much to drink… Ooops… home.

When I close my eyes the whole world spins and it swooshes inside of me like riding a rollercoaster.

I feel good but I can’t stop thinking about how cold and inpolite he was

Aw. Why didn’t I get a hug from him? not even a hug… Not eeven a hug? Not even a hug!!!

Not even a hug.

So. damn. powerfull.

What a text! Totally f-ing genius!  I have to write it to him! Drunken fingers flutter over the keyboard.

Hm. That didn’t turn out so goooood… hm.

There IS a posibility that I will regrett this tomorrow…

I wrote down all of the lyrics to “Nothing compares to you” With a bunch of spelling errors?!

Like an idiot.

The entire text. To “Nothing compares to you”?!

Pooooop/Shiiiit/excremeeeeent (haven’t chosen which word to use yet…)

And now, three pages of an epilogue I sketched to this sad and pathetic night.

How we ended it on a happy note so to speak.

This is really really sketchy and unfinished, so I wont even translate it. Updates will come my sweets!

Jag känner mig som Jesus

Jag hade precis ett handledningsmöte med en ung kille som är sugen på att söka till serieskolan. Vi kommunicerade helt utan tal, eftersom gossen är döv. Det var mycket trevligt och gick förvånansvärt bra! Känner att jag antagligen är någon form av mästarkommunikatör… Jag hade ju faktiskt MVG i kursen “Kroppen som uttrycksmedel” i gymnasiet så en va la’nte helt oförberedd om man säger så…

När han kontaktade mig för att få hjälp och vägledning hade han inte ritat en enda serie i hela sitt liv. Jag gav honom en uppgift och skrev att han skulle leta efter sitt mörker, söka efter ett minne som var starkt, kanske ett tillfälle som var pinsamt eller jobbigt på något sätt och berätta om det i serieform.

Han kontrade med att fråga om det måste vara en färdig serie med början mitt och slut, eller om det räckte med skisser för idén.

Mitt svar var “Färdig serie. Med tusch. Du vet att du klarar det. /F”

Serien han visade mig idag var… ja… vad… ska jag säga?

Ärlig.

Vacker.

Poetisk.

Ren.

Den gav mig rysningar så bra var den.

Han hade en hel del kulspetspenna-teckningar i sitt ritblock där han använde bläcket för att skugga i olika nyanser och skapa djup, så jag bad honom testa att göra en hel serie med bläckpenna. Vi bokade tid för ett nytt möte nästa vecka då jag sa att serien skulle vara färdig och så skildes vi åt med uppskattande leenden och en fast handskakning.

Det här är the shit, mina vänner. Att få hjälpa och peppa och leda en medmänniska i kreativiteten. Detta är mitt kall i livet. Det går så lätt och känns så rätt.

Förresten ska jag faktiskt blogga på engelska. Det här går ju faktiskt inte för sig. Vad ska mina intörnäschional friends säga om jag fortsätter så här? Skärp yourself Friedster, bring thö inglish bäck.

Nästa post, dååå…

PUSS PÅ ER! Je t’aime, oui je t’aime! Dagens favoritord: Gredelin.