A short film

A short film I took while meeting my friends - congrats to Wojtek (he is the one with a cigarette) about his great new job and thanks to Kasia (a beautiful long haired blonde) for letting us to take pictures of her and her dog during an awful rainy night. See you all very soon!

Back from Krakow

It was absolutely crazy week without a free moment for posting. I was running around in a headless chicken style, trying to meet as many friends as possible, deal with as many important matters as possible (picking up a new driving licence, a roll of prints for my diploma work, having a photoshoot with a friend and her fab new little dog Figa and trying to squeeze some necessary shopping in) during my blitz visit in Krakow.

I had a great time and I hope I will be able to reapeat it as soon as possible (I have been asked this question at least 10.000 times: "So when are you going to come again?". The problem is I HAVE NO IDEA.

All I know I will try not to fly by Ryan Air...

This picture was taken at 5 am when my best friends (in whose appartment I was staying - thank you so much, folks! ) were packing for a work week stay in Wroclaw with their half year old son - Jan on my knees. It was great to meet them even for couple of hours and to stay in their beautiful flat which simply oozes good energy.

So this is how Jan and I look like when woken up at 5 am - I am the one wearing glasses:

Scottish excuses to consume more whisky

Tonight Scotland will be celbrating birthday of its greatest poet Robert Burns with The Burns Supper. It is another excuse to drink more whisky and consume even more haggis imo.

I am keen to inform that there are aloso alternative celebrations starting to appear, this time in the name of Burns' partner Jean Armour - this exceptional lady was in relationship with the poet for many years (when her father heard that she is with child courtesy of the bard, he simply fainted and then refused Jean to marry Burns and the more I read poet's biography the more I can understand Mr Armour unwillingness to become his father-in-law) .

Jean and Robert had nine children together (he had another four by other women so he was not just interested in writing odes to haggis or drinking until collapsing - how very Scottish), the last of whom was born on the day of his funeral in July 1796.

He died due to a heart failure at 37, in debt but she survived him for 38 more years and witnessed his growing fame and fortune as he became a sort of a Princess Di of romantic period in Scotland.

I hope she became very rich, got herself lots of nice shoes and went on some holidays into warmer climates. Leaving all these painfull (or happy - it often depends) memories behind.

Graveyard wandering

On my way back from the School of Informatics (where ECA is supposed to have the final year's exhibition so I went to have a look at the space) in the setting sun I strolled into the Greyfriers yard with its Kirk called a Scottish Westmister as it's graveyard is a place of a final rest to manny imminent figures in the Scottish literature.

Walter Scott's father is buried here and the church (accordingly to Andrew Lownie's Edinburgh's Literary Companion) is the place of the meeting of the teenage writer and a love of his life Williamina Stuart-Belsches. Unfortunately his attentions came to nothing - Lownie writes - and a few years later she married a friend of his called William Forbes. At least she is said to inspire a couple of his literary female characters.

The most interesting to me were aristocratic mausoleums which are now incorporated in walls of the surrounding buildings. One kitchen window was situated exactly between the two tombstones and one could see clearly the tenant preparting a nice warm toast to himself and melancholicaly (and what else?) gazing at the graveyard outside the window:

The graveyard and remains of Franciscan's monastery (as Kirk was the first new church to be built in Edinburgh in 1620 since the Reformation) are now in the very center of the town so it is difficult to imagine them being situated in an array of the suburbian gardens not far from a rustic lane of Cowgate.

The graveyard is also a home to Greyfriars Bobby, a very special Skye terrier. The dog refused to leave his master's graveside until its death 14 years later and became a legend (this story is simmilar to that dog in Krakow which now is commemorated by a big, brass monument so Bobby's small granite tombstone looks rather poor in comparison. However I do not think anybody places fluffy doggies for him like they do here.).

Edinburgh Fashion - part 2

Britian offically entered so dreadded recession today, however it is not the reason of today's post. There is another thing that baffles me here all the time - it is an image of bare feet being the best winter accesory to the fashionable women here. The temperature hovers just above zero, I am wearing socks made of the thickest wool that Gap could provide and a woolly hat is permanently on my head and my neck is wrapped in a thick woolly scarf but here - nooooooooooooo. Bare feet. What is more - bare legs! A girl waiting at a bus stop wearing just a t-shirt (and some gloves, mmmmmmmm warmth!)

Simon and I we were sharing a joke back in Krakow: how to spot a Brit in Krakow during winter? It will be the only person in the whole space of the Main Market Square going through the snow storm in a t-shirt.

Bare feet in the image courtesy of my ECA's colleague. When I asked her: WHY??!! She simply answered that otherwise her feet would not fit into her shoes. Maybe the reality is less complicated than one thinks.

Stand up

A thing I really love about Britain are their stand up comedians.

We have heard in Poland about Shazia Mirza thanks to an article in WO (whose performance I have missed during last Edinburgh Festival, helas! the show was completely sold out) but my favourite (and relatively unknown in Poland though you might have spotted him in Ocean's Twelve where he wears definitevely less make up) is Eddie Izzard.

I saw him very first time on tv when in a rerun of his 1999 show "Dress to kill" where he speaks NON STOP for 1,5 hours and it is a brilliant, ultimately hilarious monologue not just a verbal diarrohea. He is simply the best at being two people at the same time having a dialogue with each other. What is his Scottish connection? He is simply the best at doing Sean Connery's voice!

My favourite clip from this show is here.

Change of forecast - it is possible!

At least weather here can change at 180 degrees withing an half an hour so maybethere is some hope.

For last couple of days I was going there and back between our flat and Simon's parents house, in Haddington helping my (almost, let's not be too pernickety) parents -in-law after their disatrous month of various illnesses. Simon's mum was suddenly taken into a hospital last week and after her return home is still very weak and on painkillers so I packed my bag and went to play Mary Poppins for couple of days (Simon being on photographic comission in Ukraine for next couple of days). Luckily kids did not require any magic tricks and were surprisingly keen on peeling the potatoes, scraping carrots and unstocking the dishwasher.

I just know why I have been avoiding cooking potatoes (or tatties as they ar known in Scotland) - one never knows how long they are going to take so one ends up with a family salivating at the table, clutching tightly to their knives and forks while you pray in front of the cooker so that the pot stuffed with potatoes would finally BOIL. Then the chicken shrinks surprisingly to supertiny pieces though you were sure you have overestimated the amount so that you could have it ready for another dish for tomorrow's dinner...

Grim grim grim forecast

Weather forecast was as scary as the one about a state of British economy. Welcome to Poland in the 90ies with unemplyment predicted to reach 10%. (Mind you Britain has twice as much population as Poland so we are talking here about a big BIG nasty times to come.)
I presume most of of Polish people who came back home just before the big bang courtesy of Lehman Bros. are not so happy seeing their savings shrinking. Mine are already gone and due to some misunderstanding at the college I might have to continue my education for one more year to obtain MFA. I will keep you informed about results of my meeting with head of the department tomorrow and if I would have to scrape out several more thousands of pounds from I have no idea where...

Edinburgh fashion - part 1

We might not be in Paris or Berlin but there are some people with a sense of style here too!

Since I am currently conducting research for my next series of illustrations of British fashion (to be published soon on my illustration blog) I am paying more attention to people in the streets instead of just walking bent down due to freezing high wind submerged in my own thoughts and a hood of my thick winter jacket (which is equipped with a padded but inevitably bulky lining).

I experience from time to time a shuffling Ugg boots brigade and dishevelled arty types with white bleached hair and weird piercings at the college premises but generally Edinburgh women tend to maintain a good level of fashion knowhow. Nothing fancy, we are in John Knox's country but a Mulberry bag, pari of patent heels/flats and a fresh complexion (thank you humidity!) will lift up almost any outfit.

However I cannot help but wonder, as another stylish lady from NY would put it, how the hell they are really managing in their light coats in the freezing wind and cold we experience in Scotland these days? Note the obligatory school uniform - no coat. More to come soon.

P.S. I will not deal with doggies' outfits here as it is a subject for a completely different set of illustrations.

Really big negatives

This week I have finally plucked up some courage and booked a large format camera for a portrait studio shoot. I was lucky not only because the model I had invited actually agreed to pose (she had gorgeous pink hair and was really patient when I was struggling with MPP camera's focusing mechanism) but also because I got two assistants - Sejin from my MFA class who uses large format on a daily basis and Simon, my lovely Uber Photographer, who helped to set up the lights and create amicable atmosphere during the shoot.
Both girls were cooing over him how nice and sweet he was and indeed he was - without him things would definitely go tits up as I have first forgoten a bag with a digi cam (this time used as some sort of a Polaroid preview camera) and he rushed back home to bring it and then it turned up that a college flash did not have a modeling lamp so Simon rushed again to bring our own Hensel's one from home. At this point my pink haired model arrived so I still managed to look professional.

Well, professional and well organised until Sejin and I mixed up our boxes with film so until I devolop my 5x4 negatives I do not know how it all is going to look like.

P.S. This post's illustration is another friend from my MFA course, Neil showing in slow motion how to load a piece of 5x4 negative into a casette.

Favourite drinks

Since I am not a very big coffee fan (I am sure some of you will roll their eyes at this statement but I really do like Starbuck's 'dishwater' as it is politely called in our family) and I cannot stand British beers (except cider, especially by Strongbow) I have to look for something else that would suit my tastebuds here. Just imagine that I have almost vomited after taking my first sip of a tea with milk! Nowadays after so many years of indoctrination I have at home on a daily basis I cannot imagine to have my tea black/naked.

So many years passed since my 'tea with milk incident'...

I was invited to meet my then-boyfriend's mother - an extremely elegant, sophisticated, would even say, posh lady. Let's say she was so elegant that she owned a poodle, antique furniture (which Louis it was? I cannot ever remember the difference in the shapes and appropriate number of Louises.) and smelled with Chanel No5 (which her son used once as a flamethrower when playing with his friends at Polish partisans vs Nazis and it was the only time he got smacked as such smelly luxuries were scarce in Poland of the 80s). I was happily chatting away (which I always do to mask my shyness) when her innocent question "Do you take milk?' slipped into my monologue. I nodded and carried away, only to half suffocate when I finally took a sip of my tea (served in the best bone china with a little finger subtely sticking out just little enough). What you are supposed to do in front of such an elegant lady who is gently perched on a side of the unknownlouis armchair with her cardigan and pearls observing you carefully. after all you are in the direct line of interest of her only son. I have almost spat it out but after a moment when tears came to my eyes and then gulped it down.

You came a looooong way baby. He is happily married with a kid now.

Simon loves kwas chlebowy - a drink made of fermented bread which we managed to trace in Edinburgh. Unfortunately, when we have found out which Polish shop in Leith might have it in their stock a surprised saleslady there told us that since nobody was interested in this drink for many months while they had it on their shelves, they got rid of the supplies.

My choice is gingerbeer.

Cats and dogs

I have never been an early riser but since couple of weeks it is more disastrous than ever - I cannot roll out of bed earlier than 1.30 pm!
However, no wonder if the weather is like that - howling wind and neverstopping rain which just swiches from subtle drizzle to splatting glassfulls of water on your face from the weirdest of angles. One cannot even hold the umbralla up properly as wind changes its direction 100 times per minute and breakes the construction almost immediately.
British have this funny description for such a rainy day - that it is raining cats and dogs (something along the lines of Polish rzuca zabami, or French il pleut comme vache qui pisse hihi) so I am just sitting down to preparing a new illustration for my portfolio inspired by the weather forecast!

I love you and yes, you can have that in writing

I had to start my day earlier than my usual midday as our tutor took us for a morning walk around couple of Edinburgh galleries.
I really like the way David treats his students as he does not have that aloof way of being, is full of fatherly and genuinely caring about your work attitude and sense of humor.However at the same time one feels that it is necessary to work really hard as you would not like to dissapoint such a kind person. Still, when I have learned that such a photography course in US is approx 40 000$ I Iam thinking if I am indeed working hard enough...
The first show we saw was also one that appealed to me the most as I am not into minimal art (as it has this aloof feeling I was talking about earlier. It reminds me of that primary school experience, when a group of girls knows a secret you are not allowed to know so that they sit an whisper to each other while you desperately try to look completely untinterested, though your insides are simply screaming: what is it?!) were works of Simon Scott.
It was a combination of good images (shot with a leafback digital Hasselblad so imagine the quality) reasonably priced (400 pounds for a framed print of size B2) and executed from a collection of objects gathered by the author. Each object was signed, or rather carved into in most of the cases with a personal, witty, well thought of comment.
My favourites were: placed on 7 early 20th century modelgrinders entitled "The Daily Grind": "Chop chop busy busy work work bang bang" and repeat it please 3 times. "Love is indeed a many splendoured thing. But when it goes wrong it is death by a thousand cuts" on american food graters circa 1925. There was also a play on Osama Bin Laden's name "Oban.Ladies.Man" witha comment:"Now you see him, now you don't. Tends to take himself a little bit too seriously".
The whole thing reminded me strongly of dada experiments and especially of Marcel Duchamp who as David put it once, launched the whole modern art singlehandedly.
There will be no image with this post (I hate people taking pictures of my works hanging on display, though who knows - it might be just a good advertising. The author of works launched the biggest Edinburgh advertising agencies btw.) but have a look here.

P.S. Just so you know - Picasso's etchings from a Minotaure series are 20 000 pounds at the moment.

Weather forecast predicts snow this winter!

A history of a checked fabric

A Scottish saying goes that a man in kilt equals a man and a half.

So what would you say about that image I spotted today when just stepping out of a post office?

The belted plaid had many advantages in the Highland climate and terrain. It allowed freedom of movement, it was warm, the upper half could provide a voluminous cloak against the weather, it dried out quickly and with much less discomfort than trousers and if required it could, by the mere undoing of the belt, provide a very adequate overnight blanketing. The tightly woven wool proved almost completely waterproof, something the lose woven wool of today - is not. When complete freedom of action was required in battle it was easily discarded, and one famous Highland clan battle, that between the Frasers the MacDonalds and Camerons in 1544, is known as Blar-na-Leine, which can be translated as 'Field of the Shirts'. (information in italics via: http://www3.nbnet.nb.ca/legends/kilt.htm) So I guess they must have left their dangly bits on a full display to deterriorate a morale of their opponents...

As a kilt has no pockets a Scotsman keeps his mobile phone in a thing called sporran - a leather purse hanging from the waist.

A sgian-dubh, (or small dagger) (pronounced "skian du"- info from Simon) however, is carried in the right hand stocking on all occasions (so beware during an usually legless Scottish wedding when you are amongst the guests and all of a sudden the bride and a photographer are nowhere to be seen during the same time) The kilt is male attire and should never be worn by the ladies, except Highland dancer lassies.

If you ask me if Scotsmen wear any lingerie underneath their skirts ups kilts, they DO NOT - however this information comes courtesy of a secondary source - once Simon's friend, a beautiful lawyer Marina, plucked up some courage and asked this question to a stranger in a shop and he showed her the answer...

P.S. Legless means something that happens to one's head (just like in the illustration) when too much alcohol is consummed. Wearing a kilt is not obligatory.

New Year's resolutions

How many of you actually know that Simon plays clarinet at a professional level (he did gigs with professional orchestras)? Well, he does not play it now as he just brought it from his parents and sat down to a thorough cleaning of the instrument.

I just hope that resuming playing it is his New Year's resolution - I have heard him once, playing a bit from one of Mozart's concertos (using Liska's clarinet as his old one cracked dangerously while playing in cold weather) and it was an almost sexual experience. I hope he will sit down to it as it might not only be an alternative career but also a big turn on!

Up the hill

Since seeing Ann's pictures I was keen on talking a walk on top of the Artur's Seat. So we went equipped with a flask of rum-tea and cheese sarnies. Also several thousand Edinburghers had apparently the same idea to spend a free afternoon.
However some, unlike us (surprise, surprise!), went without flask or/and sarnies so when we had our little pique-nique on top we heard some pityfull "Oh, I wish we have thought about some hot tea!" as it was another freezing day. My tiny John Lewis' flask paid for itself a thousand times over.

No more fireworks!

We did a toast with our posh champagne (after which Simon immediately got a serious allergic reaction), rushed downstairs to see the fireworks but they were finished before we managed to get to the corner of the street - lots of people were hoping it was just a break and that the team was just loading another lot up there, in the castle but no - 2 minutes and that was it.

Happy New Year!