Narrative project is finally over and I've had the laziest weekend. Saturday felt like summer so we had the first terrace coffee this year in Art Centre. After that I made dinner fo me and Hugo which was a weekend tradition at some point but I can't remember when was the last time. Then I had Tracy coming over for a tea and later on I went to Rochester Street to watch Into the Wild with Erno, Hugo, Naroa and Toby. Nice film. It almost feels like I was never stressed about anything and that there's no worries in the world. But just almost. I feel slightly guilty because in reality there is plenty of things that I have been pushing aside because I was finishing the narrative project and now I really should start doing them.

Next week is going to be a busy week again. We're going to get a new brief tomorrow for the next project and the dissertation preparation starts too. That's so scary, I haven't got a clue what I'm going to write about. And because we haven't been feeling busy enough lately with Naroa (sometimes I get the feeling that I really don't think too far), we have 3 fashion shoots coming up like I wrote earlier. They're all for 3rd year fashion students, who need their final collections photographed.
Oh well, I guess it's all good, I'm here to take pictures after all, and not to sit on my ass.

We are doing 2 fashion shoots next week and 1 later on with Naroa. This is from Friday, when we were testing lights.

"Life in a box is better than no life at all, I expect. You'd have a chance, at least. You could lie there thinking, 'Well. At least I'm not dead'."

Narrative.



What do you say about this Ben? Still super-scandi, huh?

More randomness. These are from the evening when my nose got broken (there's many reasons why I'm never going to forget Naroa) and we had a dinner with people. Most of them taken by Harri (I guess I wouldn't have any photos of my life in here without him), Naroa and Ben shot by me.

This lovely Spaniard made my day today and brought me breakfast to bed. All the stuff that's been going on with the house has been sucking so much energy from us, I can't imagine what would have happened to my mental health if I had been dealing with everything all alone. Don't get wrong impression - we're still going through loads of shit from the landlord. But at least the pest control men came last Friday to put some poisons to our house, I haven't seen any rats (besides the landlord) or mice since I came back from Finland. I've heard them though - it's a nasty feeling that you get when you hear the rats behind your bedroom door. I'm dreaming about them almost every night too.
I wouldn't survive without Naroa.

It is time to post some random pictures again.



Some people have been wondering why the blog is called Kelly's eye, this is why. That's our front door, Harri took this with his mobile phone cam.





Harri's photos from St.Patrick's day. This proofs that Sofia really was here. The guy on the left-hand side is one of my Spaniards Pablo.




Pääriläinen, Per that is, with someone's eyeglasses.



Harpo himself.



Noora and Noora.



Noora and Saana.

It snowed on Sunday, so I went out just for ten minutes to get some fresh air and run away from the essay writing. The snow in here did feel a bit out of place... There's lots of flowers everywhere and on Friday we were sitting on the same hill (where I took pictures on Sunday) for a while having pussikalja in the sunshine and it was nice and warm. I didn't mind the snow though, in this country you know it is only going to last for that one day. No wonder people take their slides out straight away and run to the hill, I guess I would do if I had the chance once a year for one day.

(If some of you feel like you've seen the images before, the reason is that I posted some pictures after last vappu that we're taken in the same place.)



The hill, Victoria Gardens is the name I think (fancy, eh?), is just in between our house and the college. Down the hill behind the girls there's the lovely river Medway.





Notice the wooden piece of art behind Thorbjørn, it's in the next image (I don't like the picture but doesn't matter) too, and that big building behind is UCCA.







This is the view from our front door.



Our house.



The Spaniard.

Test shots for the Narrative project that we're working on with now.

I just realized that I forgot to explain this Mr. Pleasure from the Council-thingie. We made a complaint of the landlord to the Medway Council just before I came to Finland. As it happens, the name of our saviour is Mr. Pleasure, he came to inspect the house and that was the thing that made the landlord to come to see us. (In reality his name is not Mr. Pleasure, we just thought it was after he had left a voice mail with his contact details. When Naroa called him back she asked to talk with Mr. Pleasure, and the reply went "speaking". Anyhow, the name is Pledger.)
Now he's, the landlord that is, putting letters through our post slot, trying to avoid confronting us. He doesn't answer our phone calls either (what a surprise!). I guess he got his tail between his legs after noticing that we don't start crying when he's trying to scare us with his Big Bad Wolf acting out, quite the opposite. It must have been an eye opening experience to that old twat that he can't beat four foreign young women verbally.

Mr. Pleasure paid us a visit on Thursday from the Medway Council. Too bad we didn't manage to see him with Naroa, we were very intrigued. Anyway, the landlord finally came (after months of asking) later on to our house and we had a little shouting competition. Four women against a flabby old toad. Who do you think won? It is not easy to get me to shout, but that man sure knows how to do it. It's just amazing the whole situation, he's threatening us that he's going to take this to court if we don't pay the rent by Monday afternoon, but the thing is that it wouldn't do him any good, that would just mean that we would be kicked out and in England you have 2 months before you have to leave after you've got eviction. So basically we would live in the house as long as what it says in the contract anyways. I would like to leave though. Oh did I mention that we (or Naroa's uncle actually) found out that he's not a lawyer after all, that's just what he told us when we moved in.


I'm well confused about next autumn... We were trying to come up with something with Saana, I suggested that we'd move into a caravan, so that we could live in London when we wanted to and in Chatham when we needed to. Saana's definitely in! She was only concerned about the winter and it being too cold. I told her that hell - if I've been living without heating for almost the whole winter, I think we'll manage.
No seriously, I don't know what to do and where to go.



I found another poem about my life in Chatham, I don't know who wrote it but here it comes:

"Nuestro océano
no ocupaba
más que un vaso. Suficiente
para ahogarme y pedirte
socorro."