I live in a small village (population 383) and it's like the heaven and the hell. I have nature but I don't have culture. I have a big house but I don't have friends to invite for a dinner. I have a great studio but the curators don't come to see my work in the perifery.

Yesterday, Jani sent me an SMS from Bali saying it's a paradise but I was in the paradise: picking shaggy parasols and quinces with my wife and daughter. I've decided to dedicate the weekeds to my family, I'm not going to the studio nor switch on the computer. I don't want to be anymore a 24/7 artist.

I did one more drawing for Muestra de Arte in Madrid: It’s a kitschy image of tomatoes and the text says El nigeriano te los coge, la nigeriana te la chupa, the Nigerian man picks them (tomatoes) and the Nigerian woman sucks it (your dick).

Spain exports agricultural products to Northern Europe and needs a lot of cheap labor force, illegal immigrants from Africa, South America and Eastern Europe. Some of these people work in slavery-like conditions.

Sweden has criminalized consuming prostitution services because of human trafficing. It is a fact that in many cases prostitution is forced but if this leads to criminalize buying sex in general, buying tomatoes must be banned too.

Yesterday, I found my all-time favorite prostitution ad in the newspaper: Toca teta y culo por 5 euros, touch boob and ass for 5 euros. I wanted to call but I had a feeling that it wasn’t a genuine ad. In Kieslowski's film The Double Life of Véronique a puppet master arranges a date with Véronique, who was in love with him, in a peculiar way and when she finally finds him, he says that he just did it to generate material for his novel. I’m curious to know more about touching the boob but I don’t call because I don’t want to be anybody’s puppet, though it were Paul Auster or Sophie Calle. If you wish to do it, the number is +34915564451, it’s a normal Madrid landline, no extra charge.

Last night was perfect, while listening Real Madrid's glorious triumph on radio, I made the last drawing for the show in Madrid. Raúl goaled in the third minute against FC Barcelona, our most hated rival. The classic game is more politics than sports: the state capital city's royal (Spanish: real) team against the unoffical national team of Catalonia, daydreaming of a republican independence.

And the drawing, it's about Spanish art history though I don't do art about art, artists, art theory or art history (I do art about much more interesting things, like the real world). Velázquez is Spain's number one artist but there's no disambiguation with his name. The drawing represents the label of Goya Whole Kernel Golden Corn can. Goya is the number two artist in Spain (the number three would be Picasso, too communist to rank higher) and is a brand of foods sold in the united States and Latin America.

Last night, when the baby was sleeping, my wife climbed up to my studio, it's in the second floor of our house. I was working with a drawing which features a blonde girl sliding in a playgroud and text Protege el norte, los españoles nos amenazan (Protect the North, the Spaniards threaten us). Though my Spanish wife is not too patriotic (she didn't even watch the sad World Cup knockout game against Les Bleus) she was upset.

My patria Finland joined European Union in 1995. The Finns were scared of people coming from Southern Europe to Finland for the socialdemocratic wellfare system. In Finland you can survive without working, the society takes care of the weak and the lazy. But nobody came. Last year, the Finns were panicing again, the European Union was extended to Eastern Europe and Finland enacted a law to close the borders from the citizens of the new EU countries. But nobody wanted to come.

Spain is receivingmore immigrants at the moment than any other European country. They speak here about an avalancha of immigrants, suprisingly also in the liberal newspaper El País. I think avalanche is a negative word, in the nature it's something dangerous to the people.

I'm making a drawing where a dog waiter serves beer and sausages behind a fence with Spain written on it. The text under the image says Los moros amenazan las cañas de Pepe. Don't ask me to translate it. It's made for Madrid!

I finally got the flights to Tokyo. I'm going there 5th Decmeber and coming back 5th February. Raul asked me to go to Miami and do something during Art Basel but I can't be in two places at the same time.

Cecilia has put a link from her website to my site. I don't have links but I included her in my dream team. Unfortunately, this makes me think Real Madrid's Fabio Capello. He's a true capullo. Let's see what happens tonight in Bucharest. On Sunday, against Getafe, they didn't shoot once and, naturally, lost. Capello/Capullo said that he likes most in Spain the heritage of Franco. Franco wasn't a looser but a capullo.

I've been dusting my books and organising the library the whole weekend. Now I'm going to finish the prostitution drawings for the show Raul curates in Wroclaw and the immigration drawings for the Muestra de Arte in Madrid. The problem is that the big paintings I'm doing terrify me but I've been really kind with my wife and she promised to paint me one more (she painted one already).

Then I got an idea of a sculpture. It will be a replica of a home made rocket launcher used against the Catalan police force in Barcelona last week. The missiles used were ordinary fireworks rockets in their colorful party wrapping.

Robert Mugabe, Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, José Eduardo dos Santos, Omar Al-Bashir, Kim Jong-Il, Qaboos bin Sa'id Al 'Bu Sa'id, Nguyen Minh Triet, Mswati III, Sabab Al-Ahmadi Al-Jaber, Al Sabah, Fidel Castro, Abdullah bin al-Hassan, Jigme Singye, Wangchuck, Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahayan, Than Shwe, Islam Karimov, Hu Jintao, Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz al-Saud, Sapamurat Niyazou, Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, Seyyed Ali Khamane'i, Teodoro Obiang Nguema, Francois Bozize, Omar Hasan Ahmad al-Bashir, Idriss Deby, Zine El Abdine Ben Ali, Paul Biya, Muammar al-Qaddafi, Omar Bongo, Hosni Mubarak, Bahar Al-Assad, Pervez Musharraf, Maumoon Abdul Gayoom, Ilham Aliyev, Alexander Lukashenko, Hassanal Bolkiah, Tuanku Syed Sirajuddin, Chommaly Sayasone. And they are all in power.

A disastrous night in the football Euro Cup qualifying: Finland's game against a weak Armenia ended a draw 0-0 but even worse occured, Sweden humilitated Spain in Stockholm 2-0. That game had a double edge for me, I'm semi-Spanish and Sweden's defeat would always a triumph for Finns.

This morning our new Romanian cleaning lady came and I felt very bourgeois, I have never had anybody cleaning my home. My wife was in Cuenca and I had a great day with my daughter but I'm happy she went to bed before the shameful game began. I should have immigrated to a country that has a decent national football team, like Italy. Or Sweden.

I’m preparing a big canvas, doing a new drawing and fixing some older stuff. While I work, I listen to Kansanradio podcasts. Kansanradio (People’s Radio) is Finnish National Radio’s program where country side people phone and complain about politicians, small pensions and neihgbour’s cat peeing in their garden.

I'm doing kind of infantile work: Scrubbing Bubbles Noodle Monster equipped with a a fish ball gun. When I was kid, I never did this kind of things but engineer style drawings of cars, space ships and tanks,