Sysselmannen

Halló, hérna er eitthvað… þetta er cardigan og buxur sem virka saman sem alger reif galli sem ég gerði fyrir H&M, Divided í gegnum Naked Ape. Mér finnst cardiganið voða fínt en buxurnar nota ég kannski sem innibuxur einhverntíman… Þetta er komið í búðir úti ásamt dóti eftir Sigga Eggerts og Steed Lord 

Hérna eru nokkrar af tillögum mínum fyrir keppni í skólanum til að hanna grafík á sweat línu 66° Norður. Ég gerði 27 tillögur, hér eru þær sem mér finnst skemmtilegar.

Maya/native american inspired gríma silkiþrykkt á stál.

Ég teiknaði þessa mynd af Diane Pernet, tískuspekúlant fyrir myndasögu sem ég er að binda inn í bók og heitir The Road to Diane Pernet… og ákvað að senda henni hana, og hún postaði henni á bloggið sitt, sjá http://dianepernet.typepad.com/diane/2007/03/dp_by_siggi_odd.html

Ég gerði þetta letur og annað fyrir skinfaxa, mr blaðið.. það er hugsað sem svona undirfyrirsagnaletur eða svona auka, læsilegt. Það er að mestu leyti byggt á svipuðu letri sem m/m paris gerðu fyrir einhvern catalóg.

Typefaces Nouveau and Nouveau Nouveau, two in one. Future art nouveau?

I am the artist of the issue in the new horizontal format interweb magazine, www.Getrvk.com .

Ni ho ma, ma mi tsu, na hi ma, lona ne ma. The beauty of the asian language coming from the kitchen grabs my attention, it never has before. I wonder what it would be like to be asian. The man who takes my order is very nice, he always is, always smiling. I wonder if he means it. I order no. 505, the chili ginger chicken soup. My favorite. Actually I’ve never tried anything else. I wonder how it is to be in Asia. I realize that I am in Asia. The place’s name is actually Asia. It’s my favorite. Actually I haven’t really tried all of them, but it’s close, and quiet. I wonder if I’ll turn out like the two other men sitting here in the smoke section. Alone. Alone in Asia. I think not. But I cannot be certain. I rememer to ask for a little bit less of the actual chicken in the soup. An old asian man walks by me while cleaning the tables. He looks straight into my eyes. It hurts. I light myself a cigarette. I wonder if the nice waiter is gay. If he weren’t asian I would be positive he were. I almost light myself another cigarette, I forgot about the other one. I’m incoherent. Haven’t slept for 22 hours. The nice waiter hands be the paper. I accept it but then decide I don’t really want to read it. I don’t care. I decide to write this. That’s right. I memorized all of the above. The soup arrives. I ignore it. The phone rings. I ignore it. It rings again, I answer. It’s my friend Jónas. He’s on his way. See, I told you I wasn’t going to end up alone. I commence eating my soup. I overhear an old man taking advantage of the nice waiter’s niceness. He’s talking about some kind of lottery or horoscope or something. The waiter laughs with courtesy as the old man rambles on. The waiter mentions his wife. Not gay, just really nice. The old asian man walks by again, I avoid his eyes. The nice waiter greets a usual, I presume. He cranks up the stereo playing the most asian sounding asian music I’ve ever heard and says it’s an epic. I’ve heard it here before. It’s not epic. Meditative, not epic. The soup is epic. As usual. My computer’s battery is now running on reserve power. I ignore it. Too lazy to do anything about it. I spill my w

these are logos for framtidarlandid or future country, a utopian collectve of artists and writers.. they aren’t really the groups logos, but my own ideas of how it should be… the top one is actually for my own utopia, pyramiden..

This is my mona lisa, we were supposed to make love to her. Some went as far as spraying jizz on her breasts but I drew her with a 0.4 felt tip pen.