the poison in the human machine

It was very hot again today, and I sketched this in the shade in Central Park, Davis (not the one in New York), looking over to where they hold the farmer’s market. But man, I got pissed off while doing it.

central park, davis

I had just finished the ink part and was working on the watercolour wash, headphones on and listening to pavement; i was getting a little irritated by the rising heat, and starting to get the uncomfortable impression that the bench I’d chosen had been previously slept in by someone very smelly, when a woman approached across the green and called out, “What are you drawing?”

“Eh?” I said as I looked up, thinking that was a pretty rude way of being nosey. “What are you drawing?” she repeated. I always hate that question because it’s usually obvious, I’m drawing what’s right in front of me. “That,” I replied, pointing ahead of me.

“Are you drawing the children?” she then demanded. This wasn’t the usual ‘I’m interested in art’ nosiness. She had apparently come from a group of mothers and babies sat across the park, and was referring to the young kids playing further across the park, about fifty yards from me. “Are you drawing the children?” she repeated. “No,” I replied, showing her my sketchbook (which I didn’t have to do). The only person in the picture was the back of some woman’s head, who’d happened to sit there for a bit while I was drawing, and I’d quickly included because of the great bike: very ‘Davis’.

“So you’re not drawing the children? What are you drawing?” I was a bit stunned, confused why I had to justify this to a complete stranger. “I’m drawing the park. I’m not drawing children, I don’t tend to draw moving things.”

“Are you drawing the play-structure?” she then said. “I’m drawing this” I repeated, showing her the picture. “So you’re not drawing the play structure?” I really didn’t like what she was getting at one little bit. And then she said: “It’s just you are making the mothers a bit nervous.”

And then she walked off, back to her group. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to go up to this group and tell them just how offended I was, that they should think about the implications of what they are saying before making that sort of accusatory confrontation, and that they owe me an apology (because she did not apologize before). I decided there was no point. It did affect the rest of the wash to be honest, I could have done a better job of it. I mean, a sketcher sketching in the park, with his little paint set, who is not even sat anywhere near their children? Plus the fact that I was there first! I was sketching before they even got there! I felt victimized to be honest, and angry. It is one thing to be protective of your children; I have a six month old baby myself, I know. My wife meets with similar groups in this very park. It is something else entirely to go about confronting innocent strangers the way that woman did. The “you can’t be too careful” argument does not fit with this sort of “everyone’s a danger, I don’t care who I offend” attitude. If it was someone taking photos of a group of kids, yes, I’d say that’s justified. But a sketching artist in a park at lunchtime, minding his own business and sitting nowhere near them? If I’d been writing into a notebook, or had nothing there at all, would they have bothered me?

As someone who draws every day (not to mention someone who normally avoids adding people to my drawings), I’m pretty upset about this. It’s the sort of thing that makes you not want to draw at all.

fish big

help! i'm a fish

for the second day in a row i didn’t leave the office during lunch, because it’s too hot, and i brought something homemade to eat (this time tomato soup; yesterday was jamaican jerk chicken). Both times I got out the superthin copic pens and drew something in the office. Yesterday was the view behind me, today was a detail of the same view, but with the fish that got left out. Why do I have a fish? Well, why not?

I have drawn little cartoon fish around the place. It was something I used to do in England.

The Danish tomte seen yesterday is to the fish’s left. That’s from the fish’s perspective. From your, it’s behind the fish.

grusinia on my mind

grusinia on my mind

NATO went into Kosovo in 1999, bombing targets (such as bridges) not only in the region but all over Serbia. Serbia, Russia’s traditional ally. Russia could do only so much. They sent troops down, but not to oppose NATO. Why did the US led forces need to go in? The risk of imminent genocide, not wanting to stand by and watch a repeat of what had happened in Bosnia.

I couldn’t begin to understand what’s actually going on between Georgia and Russia, how strongly the Russians feel about the South Ossetians, how strongly Georgia feels about not wishing to disintegrate further, or be under the sway once more of the bear to the north. Caucasus troubles run deep, and are far less well understood in the West than the Balkan troubles. It was interesting however to read that one side is accusing the other of genocide, while the other is counter-accusing them of ethnic cleansing. The threat of which, as we all know, apparently justifies invasion.

The picture: funny enough, I had this book slotted down the pocket of my bag since I bought it in a second-hand bookshop in the Castro a couple of weeks back. Brecht’s Caucasian Chalk Circle (der Kaukasische Kreidekreis). One of my favourite (if not, my favourite) plays, one I have performed in German at university, back in the spring of 1999, at the same time that Kosovo was being torn apart. I co-directed a chaotic, ramshackle and very Brechtian version, in which I got to play the fantastic role of Azdak the judge. In those days I had a Beard to defeat all others. We had almost no set, and so I drew backgrounds of Grusinian buildings with Georgian graffiti over them, backdrops of hanged men, and great mountains, all on transparent cels using only four colours of pen, projecting them onto a white screen behind the actors using a bog-standard (and noisy) classroom overhead projector. For those actors who were gotten rid of for not coming to rehearsal, I recreated their characters in cartoon form and had them projected next to the real actors, even getting involved in dialogue. It was largely shambolic, but I have good memories of the other cast members, and it was great fun. And I think Brecht would have approved.

the cast; that's me in the top middle, azdak the judge

the cast; that's me in the top middle, azdak the judge

and i watch them roll away again

First illustration friday piece i’ve done in a while; theme of ‘sail‘. Now, do I get a Blue Peter badge?

Sail

I don’t normally draw boats, or ships (I do draw junk though, ha ha). Like I don’t usually draw cars. I have a problem with them. So I thought I’d give one a go (this one sits docked in San Francisco, at Fisherman’s Wharf). To get past the psychological barrier, I pretended that they were power cables, pylons, telegraph poles, all those street wires I love so much. I’m quite happy with how it came out, and maybe I’ll draw more. Maybe in the future. Perhaps.

eight-eight-eight

888

Drew this at lunchtime yesterday. Watched the Opening Ceremony lats night. Wasn’t it spectacular? Amazing choreography and visuals. I was very impressed. And the parade of nations was interesting in that there was no alphabetical order, the countries were introduced by how many strokes it takes to write their character name in Chinese. A nice touch, that. After all the politics and protests (and rightly so) I was very impressed with everything, including that amazing stadium. Bush was there, I loved it when they zoomed in on him looking a bit bored and checking his watch. Most of the time he was looking through his binoculars (which he probably pronounces ‘binoclears’). He gave the Iraqi team a big round of applause, and then sat back and gave his Bush smirk. I had to laugh. They didn’t show him applauding the Iranians. But just a few seats away was Putin, giving his glum anti-smirk. Georgia was on his mind.

Because on the day the Olympics begins in China, and the world is looking elsewhere, Russia invades South Ossetia, the troubled breakaway region of Georgia, and now all hell is breaking loose. This is a serious and difficult situation, and a very worrying development. Georgia wants US help in this crisis. Georgia sent troops to Iraq to help Bush’s cause. They will expect something in  return – and will we honestly be able to deliver? And face off against Russia? 

“Interesting Times”.

with my famous purple heart on

the doors

It was one of those lunchtimes that merited the purple micron’s reappearance – I don’t use him nearly enough. Everything looks more sunny with the purple. These are random doors on campus (guess where folks!) with no significance at all other than they were there and i had not yet drawn them. There are lots of things here I’ve not yet drawn, but it all looks the same at the end of the day anyway. Don’t ask about the border. There were ants crawling all around me and threatening to get into my paintbox, and I was listening to the lost world of david devant. You should too. Two days to the Olympics folks! One World, One Dream (One-party state…)

But even better: two weeks until the footy, oh man, summer’s long…

out along the bay

SF weekend, part 6: the journey home. Looking at my sketchbook there were some very green UC Davis drawings, followed by some very blue and yellow delta region from the train sketches, followed by some colourful bright blue, yellow, red, green ones from day one in the city. homeward bound

Then there were the muted, foggy ones, in browns and greys and dull greens. the journey home saw a slight bit of fog clearing, giving us the colour schemes of above. I never noticed all of this until later.

There’s Coit Tower, and the Bay Bridge, sketched as I waited for the amtrak bus to emeryville (I wonder how many google searches for that bus will now end up here?), plus san pablo bay, and some guy reading on the train. and the business card to the previously mentioned awesome zine shop in the mission I stopped in.

To illustrate those very differently coloured days, here are a couple of photos of my sketchbook:

y'know wha' i mean?
ere, 'ark at 'im

extraneous details you can’t live without

rusty old truck in the castro

SF trip, part 5: I got off the bus at the Castro, the city’s gay quarter, and pottered around bookstores and past sidewalk cafes, before placing stool on kerb and drawing, of all things, this rusty truck above. “You drew a car?” my wife exclaimed later when she saw it. It’s true, I do avoid drawing vehicles, but this one was so interesting, and I was inspired by other vehicular drawings I’d seen online. Time was pressing, so I had a (fairly unsatisfying) late lunch at the Bagdad Cafe before walking down 16th and finally back to the Mission. Last (and only) time I’d been was November, and I wanted to go back, if anything for a burrito, but mostly to sketch.

footy in mission dolores park

I sat myself on the slopes of Mission Dolores Park, listening to loud latino radio blasted across the fields where local lads played football (not a jumper for a goalpost in site, though), and art students nursed hangovers with beer, being all social and shit. The fog hung low over the city behind, obscuring many of the tall buildings downtown. A guy sat to my left tapped away furiously on his mac book while his dog asked passing strangers to play with him; further back, another group of people looked equally dangerous and uninterested; not far off, a bearded hippy wrote something negative about yoga. And I got my paint set out and sketched on the slope.

I wandered about on Valencia, looking in more bookstores and record boutiques, as well as the odd gallery, before a trip down Mission and into Central America, ending up at last at Needles and Pens to look through their vast array of indie zines (and purchase one or two). By this point I was ridiculously tired, and I had neglected to write down the train time back to Davis, so I forewent the burrito and hopped on the 14 bus.

I did draw the picture below, on a postcard, which I have subsequently mailed to a friend in the UK, who I think would have enjoyed going out sketching in San Francisco. I always do.

a postcard

the number of the beast

This is post 666. Well, 66 of the new site, plus the 600 from the old site, et voila. That’s a lot of postage.

This week in evil: our Governor signed an executive order (“Execute Order 66”, a famous Sith once declared) ordering state workers to reduce their pay from whatever it is they are earning, down to federal minimum wage, currently $6.55 (ooh! only eleven cents lower than that magic number), because state legistators haven’t yet come up with a budget for our increasingly broke state. Oh, he apologized while he did it, he was almost in leathery Austrian tears over it, but he still did it. Thousands of temporary workers were forced out of their jobs (Terminated, you might say), thousands of families suddenly had a massively reduced income. Oh, they will probably – maybe – get their salaries back once the budget is finally announced, but in the meantime state workers are the pawns. I overheard some pretty angry comments on the way home on Thursday afternoon.   

Another Arnie film springs to mind at this time: Total Recall. But in truth, it’s King George’s adminstraitors that have been mismanaging the US economy for eight years that are ultimately to blame. We can’t get a new President in fast enough.