this is...

...one of a series of drawings i did two years ago. soft lead pencil on expensive paper ;-)

(click to enlarge)

the little alien

i met him in the streets of vienna. isn't he a cutie?

Mirzâ Ghâlib

Mirzâ Abdullâh Khân, poet's name Ghâlib, was born in 1797 (or maybe 1798) in Agra. His parents were Turkish aristocrats. From his 13th year he lived in Delhi, then the capital of the Mughal empire. He wrote a divân - a collection of a few hundred poems - in Urdu, a modern Indian language rich in Persian and Arabic vocabulary. Contemporary Urdu speakers agree that it's simply not fun being lovesick, unless you can read the poetry of Ghâlib.

Let hope, that passion bear fruit, not flee;
surrendering one’s life is no willow-tree.

No ancient king’s seal is a cup of wine;
from hand to hand passes its majesty.

Your splendour’s a means to show you are here;
no sand-grain escapes from the sunshine’s glee.

The Beloved’s secret must not be unveiled,
or else in parting no breach could be.

Fear lies in the changing colour of joy;
no grief in bereavement’s eternity.

They say that men live all by their hopes,
but no hope even of life have we.

(poem 95 from Ghâlib's divân, translated by caru)

we proudly introduce: the caterpillar

(click to enlarge)

"mad as a march hare"

not just hares... rabbits, too. we all go mad when march comes - and we hop after the cute fluffy rabbit girls like crazy. that's a warning!

(yes, i know that's not the march hare on the picture, it's the white rabbit. but he's a lot cuter, and not quite so mad.)

so romantic...

Eike

ist ein männer-, aber auch ein frauenname.

Eike, zum unterschied von Elke, Heike oder selbst Erika (letzteres ist ein lila blümchen und blüht auf der heide).

es gibt da eine Eike, die eine wirklich tolle frau ist.

kryptisch? ja. das ist absicht.