I've forgotten to eat and drink (water obviously) and I'm crying over a self-help book on page 10. Over the story of Julio Iglesias. I don't even seem to remember that I broke my new camera day after having it or anything else I've been stressing this past year. I'm not tired though I'm semi-hangover and haven't had a full sleep for days. I'm basically on top of the world. Why? See, I've made a pretty decent decision. One afternoon while checking out different places to print the boy calendar, I ended up looking what it would cost to do a small magazine batch and thought, fuck it, I've been dreaming about my own magazine for years and I've seen friends do it, why don't I just do it now when I can? And even now when I'm just throwing ideas around, I can't remember being this excited about anything ever. The feeling of answering the question "How is it going, how are you doing?" with "I'm great, I'm doing a magazine" instead of bitter "Ask me later", it's something different and new to me. Whatever comes out of this yet nameless project is secondary compared to the feeling.
I can deal with the rejection letters a lot better, but I'll keep them in my door for now.
I have also noticed that there are some genuinely nice people in this planet.
Which is great for me because they'll wake up 8am to model for you and be ok with wearing only a nightgown in freezing cold nights for a shoot.
Also, thanks for the universe that I found the perfect Italian-made wool pants...from my own closet.
And the gun-shaped white soap that I bought today from Helsinki10.
And baile funk and house, obviously.
Ps. 10-year old boy did my make-up for a feature in
CIRCUS bookazine that is out now in Finland, get yours from Stockmann!