Yes. I really need more models. Too much of me.

I’ve had this story in my head since I was 18 or so. FIFTEEN YEARS I’ve known it, the whole plot, the main characters and their adventures in a strange fantasy land. Back then, I actually had 12 paintings ready for it, but I sold them since I was young and stupid and needed the money. The pictures were framed and all, and I was working for this.. I guess you could call it a media study group. There were also some theater folks working alongside of us, and they did a fun trip to Ireland to do a few plays and meet some local colleagues. They took me with them, and I had a couple of short art exhibitions featuring my paintings. And me, telling the whole story to groups of people.

I think the best memory of those storytelling sessions was this old, lovely couple who came to tell me they had visited Finland 10 years earlier and that my style of painting reminded them of Akseli Gallen-Kallela. Whhaaat! I took it as a huge compliment, although I still can’t see how they made that connection. I mean really.

On our way back to Finland, I lost a couple of those paintings – I still have no idea if they’re hanging on someone’s wall or if they were just destroyed as suspicious packages at some airport.

After that, I had an exhibition at a library in Helsinki – the kids’ department librarians actually told me it’s amazing they haven’t been published, and wondered how I never offered them to any publishing house. So that gave me a bit of courage to actually think of doing so. Now I just need the backbone to paint everything again and do it.

I don’t mind selling / losing the pictures anymore, cause I think some of them weren’t good enough anyway. But it’s fun to think about – what if I’d finished the story back then and someone actually published it? Would I now be a happy author, making a living by painting and drawing these characters or a dozen others?

Who knows. As Tuitu says, you must not regret the life you’ve lived. I agree – there’s nothing I can do about the past anyway.

So, now. I have to start working on this. I don’t know if anyone is gonna like it, or publish it, but at least I’d get some peace of mind. I’ve set a schedule now, let’s see if I can keep it or do I really need someone to KICK MY ASS.

It’s funny. I spent a month preparing for the trip, stressing about it every day, contacting possible hosts, buying stuff I would need (mostly for Einari), learning the language (very slowly!), reading about different cities, writing to people on TravBuddy.. Mentally, I was prepared to leave everything behind, not seeing my friends in months, I even visualized myself living in Italy permanently sometimes. I pictured myself carrying Einari and all my stuff at the airports, the tiny train stations, countryside. I was so happy about meeting new people, reading other people’s experiences from the comment fields on Helpx.net – how they’ve felt like part of the family and spent their evenings having dinner and meeting people from the nearby farms. I wanted it SO BAD.

A week before my flight I was still buying dictionaries and Italian grammar books. Thinking about all the stuff I still have to take care of.

Then I got sick. I went to see the doctor four times before they finally agreed a surgery would be the best way to deal with it and I was admitted to the hospital on the day of our flight. Before this, while I was sick, I wasn’t able to do anything. I had lots to do; not just the packing. Loads of photo editing, painting, getting a few things for the dog from the vet, booking train & bus tickets in advance. And as the days went by without me sleeping practically at all, not eating, just wandering around the apartment in pain, I started to think I wasn’t gonna make it. And along with that, I somehow gave up on everything.

In a way, I got bored with the whole idea. How is that even possible? I’ve never been to Italy, how could I be bored with it before I even went? I don’t think I was scared, absolutely not. All this time I had been just excited, wanting everything to change, everything to be new. I was sooo very bored of Helsinki and everything that’s going on here, and of course the thought of yet another extremely cold winter. The worst thing about Finland and life in general. I wrote about this all some time ago. I was so ready to go.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot, cause I’m not really sure myself what happened and why I didn’t just book the next possible flight. It would’ve been easy. I just didn’t do that. I’ve come up with a few possible reasons.

First of all, when I decided to buy the flights, I was depressed. Me and M had just decided we’re going to break up. We aren’t fighting, we’re still living under the same roof, we still like each other’s company. So I didn’t have any idea of where to go, where to live and what to do with my life. So in a way, this would’ve been the perfect moment to go when I have nothing to keep me here. I just wanted to get away and change everything. The old cliché of finding myself. I knew I wouldn’t magically turn into this happy, succesful and healthy person if I surrounded myself with new things and people, but somehow I liked the idea of shocking myself into at least trying to change everything. Like building a house by tearing the old one down to the ground. Not just decorating it in a different way. And since I am a bit of a drama queen in a way (not in a way of creating drama between me and other people, but just making my life less boring) it seemed like an awesome thing to do.

Second, I started thinking about doing things a bit differently. I suddenly realized I could now afford to buy a new camera cause I’d been saving everything for the trip. And then it hit me: why not buy the camera first, get more assignments, then save up money for a longer trip to somewhere new. If I left first, it would take me forever to get it. I probably couldn’t get any jobs in Italy and so I’d have to come back here at some point anyway, get the new apartment, work hard, and still it would take me months and months to get enough money to buy the camera, let alone anything else than the basic things I need in life.

And now, looking back at the moment I was booking my one-way flight, I can see a sad person doing a half-desperate thing when she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

But I’m not that sad anymore. I’m ok. I think I could even live through the winter – or at least one month of it. I think I can get good jobs and an apartment. I think I’ll be ok. I am hating myself just a little bit for not leaving (I’m also a bit embarrassed for telling everyone and making such a big number out of it), but on the other hand I’m thanking myself for not going when it seems leaving would’ve not been the wisest thing to do right now.

I’m also thanking my disease for not attacking me a week later when I would’ve been in the Italy countryside already..

So, that’s about it. It’s been a rollercoaster, this last month. But I think the worst of it is now over.

PS: I already started looking up farms and hosts in Ireland. And some photo schools and workshops. But I promise I’m not gonna change the blog layout to something Irish just yet… haha.

Anyway.. It seems the closer we get to the Day of Leaving, the more confused I get by these messages the damn universe is throwing at my general direction. Leave, stay, leave. Stay. Difficulties with taking E with me. Difficulties with me leaving alone. Positive thoughts about staying, pulling life together. A sudden financial panic. All kinds of tiny problems with this and that, making both leaving and cancelling the trip impossible.

And then, something good finally happens! So far, I’ve received a dozen messages from the helpx.net hosts I’ve contacted, telling me they’re all fully booked until 2011, or that the dog might be a problem. But today, after all the sadness and despair, my e-mail said ping! (well, it doesn’t actually say that, but it would be fun if it did), and it was an e-mail from one of the hosts again. And not just any host! A beautiful farm / animal shelter which I had written down as “LOVELY!!” on my desperately long list of hosts I could still contact at the last minute.

And no no-no’s this time. Instead, the person writing back (Amelia) told me to confirm my arrival so we could “get organized”.

So, me and Einari are heading to Torino – the starting point of our adventures in Bootland. We have a place to stay! We are gonna take care of sheltered dogs and cats and all kinds of fun farm work together! Suddenly it feels like one of the heavy stones piled on my shoulders fell off. Thank almighty powers of random life-changing journeys: things might just have gotten a bit better.

(I’m crossing my fingers, though. Just in case.)

Here’s a picture I stole from their website – hope they don’t mind me posting it:

First of all, the whole flying with him / traveling within Italy, it’s going to be a bit more difficult with a dog to carry around. You can’t take him to restaurants or shops (well at least not in Finland, I don’t know how strict they are about pets in the Bootland) and it will surely stress him out. Then there’s the problem of having him with me, when I’m going to live under someone else’s roof with their own pets and family, and possibly with other guests of the B&B’s and hostels. Also, the health issues. There are a lot more diseases spreading, for example, via ticks and mosquitoes. He already got one shot to prevent something we don’t have in here, but have over there. I’d also have to get a few more things to try and prevent any infections.

But, then there are the reasons I am trying to get him with me. If I don’t, he can’t stay with M cause he’s really busy this autumn. And the saddest fact – I know he’s gonna miss me an awful lot. He’s all restless and almost hysterical when I’m away for one night only. What if I just disappear for a month, two, even more and he has to stay away from home with someone else than us, the ones he’s been with his whole life. His pack members. We’d both be worrying, he in his own way, me in my human way. He’s such a mama’s boy: he follows me around in the house, spends half of his waking hours close to me and of course, sleeps next to me. Sometimes I call it “the touching distance”. It’s like he’s making sure I’m not leaving by touching me with some part of his body even when sleeping.

I just don’t know. At the moment, I’m 90% sure I’m taking him. Before the e-mail from the B&B it was a full hundred.

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

I’m such a slow learner. I’ve been wondering if I could actually have a short conversation in Italian after living in the country for two years or so. Might not happen, but I’ll do my best to learn something new every day.

So, can I have some water for my dog?
Posso avere un pò d’acqua per il mio cane?

Fun fact: Milo Ventimiglia‘s name in English would be Milo 20 miles!

I’m leaving behind my home country, my friends, my enemies and my tiny career I was just about to get going. I’m leaving everything except for my tiny dog called Einari and 30kg’s of the things I think I can’t live without. That’s not gonna be a long list of things. Mostly clothes and camera equipment. But what else do I really need? I could even buy the clothes when I get there, but I’m gonna be smart and not do that. Save a few pennies. I don’t have a lot of them.

Anyway. I wrote about all the basic stuff and why I started this blog, just a minute ago: it’s all here. It’s not much, but we’ll get to the specifics later. For now, I just had to get this thing started.

Things I should take care of: Myself, some tax stuff, my business stuff, getting all the shots and meds to prevent diseases spreading via fleas & ticks (for Einari), a lot of photo work.. oh and finding a place we could actually stay at.. oh no need to panic, still plenty of time (15 days).
Things I have taken care of, way to go me: One way ticket to Milan!, pet passport (I’m going to add a FINE headshot of Einari on it!), letting my family know I’m leaving, some photo work.

Feeling: 60% excited – 30% anxious – 10% totally lost.
Listening to: Daughtry, Matt Cardle, John Mayer

I’m hoping I could leave in November, although in my mind, the winter is already here today. The days are getting shorter, the darkness of the early evenings is overwhelming, it’s starting to get cold and windy. I can’t bear it. The autumn feels worse every year. And I’ve tried so hard to change my attitude towards winter. I just can’t. I get desperate and depressed, frustrated and restless. So lately, I’ve said I have a Californian soul, it just ended up in the wrong body. Two babies got accidentally swapped when still in the uterus.

I don’t have much to leave behind, honestly. I don’t have a career I couldn’t put on hold, small kids, house to take care of, and lately I’ve felt like I don’t have that many good friends either. Some have moved away, some have just become distant. It’s probably my own fault, I’m not very good when it comes to keeping in touch and meeting up regularly. Maybe I’m just not a good enough person to keep as a friend for a longer period of time! I don’t like to talk and gossip on the phone or have long conversations about .. well, anything basicly. So, I think the worst thing in all of this is going to be leaving Einari behind. With people you can talk on the phone, write letters, poke on Facebook, but you can’t do that with a dog. You can’t explain to him why you’re leaving and not coming back in weeks or months either. It breaks my heart to imagine him here and me there without him. Anyone who’s ever had a dog knows how much love they have for their owners and that they can actually get upset and depressed when a member of their everyday pack is suddenly gone for more than a few days.

The month I spent at a wildlife center in Scotland last year, volunteering, has so much to do with my wanting to leave, too. It was hard work. I was practically carrying heavy stuff, picking up poo with shovels and buckets, not to mention getting wet and dirty every day, but I loved it. I was exhausted by the end of the day, but not once did I feel like complaining or leaving. I just wanted to do more, learn more and see injured animals getting better and then being released back into the wild. It was probably the best thing I’ve ever done with my life. I cried when I left. I still miss my tame foxes Fred & Ginger and worry about Ginger’s hurt leg.

After we came back from New York a few weeks ago I swore I wouldn’t wanna get on a plane for weeks or even months. But two days later I was surfing the net in search for places to go and things to do in different countries. I dreamt of Hawaii, Madagascar, Australia, New Zealand and Peru, I looked up places on work exhange sites, wrote e-mails to California, Italy, Holland and South Africa. I thought about spending a few weeks somewhere in Europe and then continue my way to somewhere where it’s warm and sunny and different.

Then I heard from a girl, Elizabeth, who I met while in Scotland. She was volunteering at Hessilhead too back then, and we got along great. She’s in South Africa right now (or actually travelling around a bit in Southern Africa) and she told me about this great wildlife rehab. You have to pay for a room, though, but I’m willing to do that.

When we were still in Scotland, she was already planning to go to Africa. I don’t think she’s been home – whatever that means to her – in years. One day I was asking her about all of this and she just shrugged and said “gotta keep on moving”. This impressed me. I love what she’s doing.

Anyway, back to Johannesburg and the South Africa plans. Besides the wildlife rehab, there’s also a beautiful farm nearby with domestic animals and a lot to do, and I’d get a room and food to eat if I worked some hours every day. They already wrote back saying I’d be very welcome to come and work with them. That could be my backup plan. If I don’t have enough money to pay for a room for more than a month or so, I can ask the farm people if I could go live with them for a while.

Or move along, to another country or continent.

I’ve decided I’m only buying a one way ticket. The idea of knowing an exact date of coming back somehow feels like I’m just going on a vacation, when I want this to be something more. I’m bored of wasting my life doing trivial things that, in the end, don’t mean anything to me or to anyone else for that matter. I’m bored of the city, the bars, the ways I spend my days, the stupid, small worries we all have in this country, which is now said to be the best country in the world. Safe, clean, friendly, all that. But even safety doesn’t mean much. For me, being safe equals to not experiencing enough. Being safe is not mind-blowing. Being safe is wasting opportunities to.. I don’t know what. Learn? Be amazed?

I know there are ways to experience wonderful things and living happily ever after without leaving everything behind. Kids, for example. I’ve heard rumors they are the best thing a person can have, but I’ve never seen myself as a mom. And if I’m selfish enough to think “oh no, kids, I’d be stuck home for the next 20 years”, maybe I don’t even deserve to have any. Maybe I will some day, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll live among lions and leopards for the rest of my life, grow a beard (would be awesome!) and be one of those weird hermits who dedicate their lives to crawling in bushes, stalking animals, trying to learn something about them.

I just want to leave and to see the world even if it means not having roots anywhere. I can’t help it. I’m starting to accept the fact this is the real me, that it’s just not a silly quirk or a phase I’m going through. And I’m starting to realise it’s time to do something about it.

(Boy, I’m such a drama queen. Sorry about that.)



Yes I think these details concerning our beverages were very interesting and relevant.

After that the two of them abandoned me in front of CIA to queue to John Mayer‘s gig. Seemed hopeless, but when the line started moving, in only took 5 minutes to get in. And I got close to the stage too!

Hilights of the gig: Belief, absolutely. Stop This Train. John’s fooling around looking goofy, speeches & jokes, the fun backup singer ladies and well, most of the evening. Just awesome. Oh! And Ellie Goulding, the warm-up act. I listened to some of her songs before leaving home and didn’t like them much but dammit! I just couldn’t help loving her. Amazing singer, fun personality, good live show.

But Mayer, oh. I still can’t believe I got to see him play live OR that the gig is now actually over and I’m not sure if I’m ever gonna see him play again.. as I updated my Twitter account:

I feel it coming. I can sense it. It’ll hit me like a ton of bricks floating on a hurricane. The post-gig depression.