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Skulls of famous artists – Mimi Ilnitskaya

March 21, 2016

I love these. I love these a lot.

Skulls of famous arists by Mimi Ilnitskaya.

They are all wonderful obviously, but this one is my favourite.

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Salvador Dali by Mimi Ilnitskaya

As well as a number of famous Dali-esque features, including that wonderful moustache, the image is wonderfully anatomical.

He has nice clear coronal and squamous sutures, mental foramen and an appropriate number of teeth.

The elephant legs might not be anatomically accurate however…

Es maravilloso (or so says google translate…)

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Momento Mori II – Emily Evans

May 10, 2015

Emily Evans has, quite possibly, the best job in the world. What allows her to have this job (and prevents people like me from having it…) is obviously a fairly hefty dose of genuine talent.

As a professional medical illustrator she spends her days blurring the boundaries between art and science.

In addition to a very impressive collection of technical drawings, she has a number of ‘less rigid’ but still scientifically and anatomically accurate (squee!) pieces worthy of admiration.

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Momento Mori II – Emily Evans

This magnificent lady is not just a pretty face. The Momento Mori II image is also a beautiful skull.

In addition to a perky quiff and rosebud lips, this chick is sporting infraorbital (on her cheeks) and mental (on her chin) foramen, darling nasal bones and sutures around the zygomatic bones.

And, if that pic is not enough for you, it is well worth a visit to the website where you can pick up all sorts of cool stuff including skull cushions and skull wall paper. Yes, you read that right, skull wall paper.

If anyone is trying to work out what I want for xmas, I want this. I want it a lot.

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For friends and family – post xmas (and easter) update

May 5, 2015

I was planning to write these blogs for you guys monthly. So I am either really, really overdue, or bang on time for the start of 2015. The 2015–2016 Australian financial year that is… I sincerely hope no one was holding their breath for this, and if you were, please forward my deepest sympathies to your families. And stop reading blogs after death because that is creepy.

But running with the assumption that my lack of news hasn’t caused you all to forget I exist, I figured it really was time for an update.

London is good. Great at times, shit at times, so we are averaging that out to a good for now. To be fair, a lot of the shit has resulted from dealing with adults who act like children, so that is not really London’s fault. But since I am in the delightful position of (relative) internet anonymity I shall sling blame left, right and centre. And maybe even up and down. We will see how much needs to be slung first.

The good included a visit from my parents. That was better than good actually, that was great. Super, awesome great. Except when they left of course. I could say I cried like a baby but that would be a lie. I cried way more than a baby. A baby would be ashamed of itself if it cried as much as I did. I must have been quite a sight on the tube on the way home that day. I’m surprised they didn’t have to close the Piccadilly line due to flooding.

Work is good, the website I made for our project is live, have a look and then come back and shower me with praise. And like/follow us on social media. Or else. Now that the website is live I am also getting my hands on a few more bones, which is why I came here in the first place. Also – sometimes things like this (see pic below) happen. This type of thing makes for a very good day at work.

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On the good list is also that it snowed. I was most excited and acted like a small child.

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And another for the good stakes is that there is a number of neighbourhood cats I have been ingratiating myself with:

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I’ve been playing netball and have discovered that I can still run. Not very far and not very fast, but I am still counting that as a win.

I’m really getting a lot more goods than bads here… maybe I need to upgrade ‘London is good’ to ‘London is pretty good’…

On a more general note, here are some things I have noted about the UK so far:

  • Their ads are weird. I’m talking really freakin’ weird. I know some of the ones we have at home leave a little (or a lot) to be desired on the intellect scale, but we don’t have a drummer in full corpse paint and gauntlets selling muesli bars.
  • They call muesli bars flapjacks. Madness.
  • The locals hate public transport but use it anyway even if their destination is well within walking distance.
  • Londoners appear to chose their friends based almost solely on location. If you live within a couple of stops on public transport you might be alright. The more stops they have to take, the less likely they are to want to be friends. Consequently all the friends I have are local – I am yet to see what happens when one of us moves out of the magical radius, but I will let you know when I find out.
  • The streets are filled with hordes of zombies. Seriously. The pic below is proof. Look out the window.

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I’m hoping to organise a visit home next year, but in the meantime I will have to keep dreaming. As I did last night. But in that dream I was running late for the flight with my travelling companions (a girl from netball and Raven) and I realised I had left my handbag, containing my purse and passport, back at the hotel. I jumped out of our cab and ran (yeh, in my dreams) back to the hotel to get my bag. Then, realising I had no hope of reaching the airport in time just decided to run as far as I could while calling a taxi. Thing was, I somehow managed to run through space and time and warp myself from London to Belair in South Australia, where I serendipitously bumped into my mother withdrawing cash from the ATM at the BankSA branch. She took me home and while all were very pleased to see me my father was concerned about the immigration implications of leaving the UK without having my passport stamped out at border protection. No one seemed particularly concerned about the fact that I had broken the laws of physics (and a number of other sciences) by travelling thousands of kilometres on foot, transversing an ocean, within minutes though.

Anyway, on that note, that is probably enough of my crap for today. I shall leave you with this lovely pic of a sunny day we had once and a promise that I will write sooner next time*.

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* Promise may not be upheld. Promise not redeemable for cash.

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Cat in the brain

May 4, 2015

<insert obligatory apology about how awful I am at keeping up with blogging accompanied by convincing excuse here…>

Or not. I don’t have an excuse. I just haven’t been feeling the blogging vibe. But it is back now, so we meet again.

But we meet again for a good reason. Cat in the brain… which is either a condition which anyone who knows me will assure you I have, or an Italian horror film. In this case, it is the latter.

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The pic is the cover art for the 1990 Italian film Cat in the brain.

Obviously there is some artistic license at play here, as flesh-free skulls have the nifty habit of not bleeding… but I’m cool with it as long as the cat is.

I have searched the internet high and low and can’t for the life of me find an artist for the picture. If you know who made this brain munching skull kitty, please comment below so I can attribute it accordingly.

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Knee rug of champions

August 28, 2014

Yesterday was a good mail day. Firstly, no bills. And secondly, no bills (I am so pleased to not get bills I figured it was worth mentioning twice). But thirdly, even better than no bills, was a particularly lovely example of the many boxes that my parents are sending over to me with the things I couldn’t fit in a suitcase.

Now the box itself was not that lovely, it was just a box… what made this box particularly lovely was what it contained inside. Along with my stinky sneakers was, quite literally, the best knee rug ever made.

(For anyone following and wondering: yes, this is the parcel I was bitching about on facebook; yes, it contained my sneakers; no, it didn’t make everything smell like my feet, my mother had the foresight to wrap the shoes in plastic.)

The knee rug was made for me as a ‘leaving the country’ gift by a very dear friend. I know it took many hours to make and I am so flattered that someone thinks I am worth that amount of effort.

I can’t make any anatomical comparisons with this one of course, coronal rhymes with wool maybe… ok that is a stretch, but this is simply too good not to share!

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Thank you to the wonderful person who gave me this incredible gift, I shall cherish it and our friendship forever!

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PS: Jen – what’s another name for pirate treasure…? Miss you!

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For friends and family – update on friends with pants

August 16, 2014

This is the first in what will be quite a few non-skull related posts here. My inability to keep up to date with one blog has eliminated any possibility of me keeping two (one personal and one skullinal) so I am just combining the two. If you are friend or family this post is for you. If I don’t know you but you want to read anyway, that is creepy, but I am the one posting this on the net – so ok. I’m not in a position to be knocking back friends so add yourself to that group (family is obviously a harder door list to get added to).

So today is my 42nd day in London. Six weeks would have been a more logical way to describe that, but anyway.

Thank you to everyone who has been in touch. Everyone who hasn’t is now officially a jerk. To ease your worried minds I am safe, housed, clothed, employed and have not yet become mentally or physically ill. So things are going pretty well.

A back home friend (hi Adamin!) recently asked me if I had made any friends over here… And while everyone has been incredibly welcoming and friendly, I am not really sure that I have. I have certainly found a number of people that I enjoy spending time with… but they are all of the variety that when they say, “would you like to go out and do X”, my answer would be “sure, let me go home and put on some make up and good pants.”

When really, I am more in the market for friends that I can respond with “let me go home and take off my make up and pants. I’ll leave the door open – I’ll be on the couch watching TV. Let yourself in.”

To be fair, I have probably only really made 2 or 3 of these friends in my lifetime. By that maths I can only really expect to make one every 10 or so years, so I shouldn’t hold my breath. But in a city the size of London, surely there are other lazy slobs to be found. A roadmap to them might be nice. Or a treasure map? Seeing as I have now established the requirement for pants as my litmus test for a good friendship, maybe I should just try my luck on the streets pantless? I’ll keep you all updated on my pantless friend progress anyway…

And lets round things out for today with a rainbow. This one is from out of my bedroom window and is ending in the BBC buildings around the corner. I might go look for the gold this afternoon. Possibly without pants.

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Ecce Animal – Diddo

August 16, 2014

I am going to assume that you were not all totally asleep like I was and missed this one… or maybe it wasn’t reported in the Southern Hemisphere… but this skull is made out of cocaine!

While the sound of it does give me mental images of Dr Rockso (if you haven’t watched Metalocalypse please do, you are missing out) the skull itself is really much less vulgar than the rock’n’roll clown is making me picture.

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Dr Rockso – he does cocaine.

In fact, it is really quite beautiful. The piece is really well proportioned considering it is made of an illegal substance. It has very well defined ramus of the mandible and angular zygomatic bones.

He sure is pretty (we’re calling it a him because of his wide, square jaw)!

The artist Diddo has it listed on his website as a commissioned piece so your chances of seeing it in person are pretty slim. We can only hope it has taken pride of place in someone’s collection and hasn’t accidentally been snorted.