I’m not the only alien in our village, there are some Moroccan and Romanian immigrants too, but yesterday there was a true avalanche of foreigners passing through Cervera.

Before lunch, we watched la Vuelta a España bicycle race. Most of its 150 participants are not Spanish. We took chairs to the main street, drank some beer and ate some tapas watching the team cars, guardia civil and finally few seconds the actual racers. It was something like in Berlanga's film ¡Bienvenido Mr. Marshall!

In the afternoon, there was another international event - now more like Tornatore's Cinema Paradiso or Fellini's Amarcord - a small French circus with a pony, dogs and wild boars. It was the smallest, dirtiest and most decadent spectacle I’ve ever seen but my daughter enjoyed of it. I liked the juggler girl's big breasts. The nomadic lifestyle attracted me, and for a while, I considered joining the circus – they didn’t have a clown yet.

Niina said that the enamel paint on the Cup Noodle Robot looks like Spanish cured ham. She’s so right but I couldn’t see it. I just wanted it to be noodles. It’s not good to be always alone in the studio but I can’t help it, I work in a tiny and remote village. I miss my friends and colleagues or any artist community around me.

Anyways, the ham is great. My wife says that I do too much Asian stuff, this is now something more local. Delicious for Madrid show. Of course, there are nowadays many muslims in Madrid and I think they don’t eat jamón but that doesn`t matter, the art business is still in the hands of Christians.

Now I have to watch the paint dry and then give more defined form to the pata de jamón. In the meantime, I’ll do a new cheese drawing. Cheese is the infamous mixture of black tar heroine and paracetamol, Dallas school kids’ favorite drug.

Maybe I really fucked up the Cup Noodle Wars painting. I thought that it looked empty and added some pink and brown enamel paint, something that could have been char kway teow, a popular fried noodle dish in Malaysia and Singapore. I get too nervous when I’m painting. I should do drawings and have an assistant to paint the bigger things.

I’m going to have six of my large paintings in the show at the Finnish Cultural Institute in Madrid in November. It’s not a big deal, I think not many people go there, but it’s great to show in Madrid and important to see the paintings on gallery walls – it will be a modernist thing, white walls, no tricks.

The title of the show is Everything in South Is Third World. Many of my Finnish friends see Spain as semi Third World country, more in Africa than Europe. It’s funny, because I think that Spain is much richer country, here people have bigger houses, wider plasma screens and stronger SUVs.

On Wednesday, I went to Madrid for Filipa's Rapport Raccord opening at Distrito 4. It was fun to be with her Portuguese gang. During the dinner in La Tradicional, we were trying to follow the football games played meanwhile, Portugal against Serbia and Finland against Poland in the same Euro Cup qualifying group. Both games ended a draw, so finally nobody could celebrate.

After the dinner we had gintonics in Del Diego and then I had one drink more in an obscure Chueca gay bar with Sigfrido. That was too much, I was hammered and nauseated. I had to walk around in the fresh air avoiding the aggressive Nigerian prostitutes around Gran Vía before cabbing to Iber's place in Corazon de María.

Next morning, I had a meeting with Martti, the new director of the Finnish Cultural Institute in Madrid, and we programmed my solo show for November. I had never met him before and I think I gave a really bad image being hungover and smelling horrible. Today, I still feel weak and clumsy. My doctor is right, I shouldn't drink alcohol. But if I'm sober, how can I be the reincarnation of Kippenberger?

It has been a good week. Annika of the Finnish Cultural Institute in Stockholm accepted my provocative proposal for the exhibition title Jag skulle inte vilja hata Sverige, men jag vågar inte hata Ryssland.

Few years ago, I did a drawing with the slogan We Hate Sweden, now I traded it with my Swedish friend Cecilia to her box piece that hasn’t arrived yet. I thought that the drawing must on a Swedish wall – unfortunately Cecilia lives in Northeast England.

Now I’m exporting myself as a Finnish Artist, though I hate the idea of working for the government. The Finnish Institute in Madrid got a new director and I have a meeting with him next week. He wants to have my show already in November.

I Finnish magazine contacted me, they want to write about my style. My wife says that it must be a joke. I wear always blue Levi’s 501 jeans, brown Camper shoes, and cheap monochrome t-shirts.