veep

So, Joe Biden to run with Obama. Ok, getting the ‘grey’ vote. Possibly that shady Romney to run with McCain. Predictably, predictably, the words “Obama bin Biden” have started being tossed about the blogosphere by, well, fecking eejits (to use the technical term), most of whom seem to appear on the wordpress dashboard (why is it always republican supporting blogs and arsenal supporting blogs that appear on that dashboard?). Blogs that say stuff like, “ooh, it is a bit spooky, I’m definitely voting McCain now”. And I have to fight the urge to leave comments on those blogs. I really want to say, “GET OVER IT, you ignorant twats”, but really what’s the point? It’s just sad.

Also on this subject, a new word (new to me) has been flying around like a mosquito waiting to be swatted down: ‘veep’. Veep, and its derivative, ‘Veepstakes’. Veep. It sounds like a deodorant. Veep, keeps you dry for up to twelve hours. Or something you clean your bog with. Veep. Ok, new word, I’ll probably never use it, but there it is. Veep.

half the world away

I finished the world-saving sketchbook project back in June, and mailed it off last month in a purple envelope (from paperchase, if you’re wondering), and tomorrow (Fri Aug 22) it will be exhibited with, well not quite 499 others (not all those sent out were finished), but quite a lot of others. The project is run by the arthouse co-op in Atlanta, Georgia (not that Georgia, the other one), and the event will be kicking off at around 7pm eastern time (or 4pm here on the West Coast; that’s midnight to you in London).

saved

And it will be streamed live online at http://www.arthousecoop.com/live/. So Londoners, tune in when you get in from the pub (ok, watch it from the still-open pub on your iPhone, but make sure it doesn’t get nicked by any hoodies or anything), and keep your eyes peeled, maybe you will catch a brief brief glimpse of my little one. Sketchbook, that is.

I have been looking around the information superhighway lately (remember when it was called that?) to see who else has done this project, and compiled the following admittedly short list of fellow world-savers. Didn’t actually find many, so I was pretty pleased to discover two others based in Davis. Most interesting to see all have interpreted the project uniquely; I think I might be the only one however to advocate using a spider-killing aerosol as a means of saving the world, but each to their own I guess…

Karen Blados (Cleveland, OH) 
Blue Bicicletta (Davis, CA)  
Pica (Davis, CA)
Planetmithi (Bristol, UK)
This Chicken (Oxford, UK)
Joseph Tomlinson (WA)  
JT (Cleveland, OH)  
Craig (Cleveland, OH)  
Woman of Color (Atlanta, GA)  
Kirihargie (Portland, OR)
Metrochic (Scottsdale, AZ)

Needless to say, if you too have done this project and have put the pictures somewhere the world you have saved can see them, then I’d like to add your sketchbook to this list . Hope the show goes well; I hear there may even be a book.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/arthousecoop/
http://arthousecoop.blogspot.com/2008/07/mail-time.html

ainsi font, font font

luke learns french

Luke has this great toy (given to him by my cousin) full of lights and shapes and buttons and songs, all in French, and he absolutely LOVES it. “Ainsi font, font, font, les petites marionettes,” it sings as you turn it on. We’re trying to expose him to French early on (we also have a CD of French nursery rhymes and sounds for babies his age), so hopefully one day he’ll be able to teach us what we have long forgotten. I look forward to us one day taking him to the south of France, to where I met his mommy. And we’ll eat poulet-frites. (Funny enough I got a postcard from Menton today).

pissing down with rain on a boring wednesday

This week’s Illustration Friday theme is ‘detach‘. Here then is my entry: a picture of Burnt Oak tube station.

burnt oak station

I think the reason is that, each time I go back home, I feel more and more detached from the place I grew up. How much further detached from it will I become; am I even really detached, or is it all just imaginary? This is Burnt Oak station. Second from last stop on the Northern Line. Not a particularly nice place to hang about of an evening, you might say (or daytime either). It’s on Watling Avenue (previously seen here). I’d come out of the station, look up the hill to see if my bus was coming, and if not, I’d walk home (only one bus stop away up Orange Hill). A favourite hang-out for dodgy kids with nothing to do.  

And it rains there. It doesn’t rain here.

sunshine poured like wine

Was in Santa Rosa this weekend (weather much much cooler there, probably didn’t need to wear shorts); managed to slip away to do some sketchbook filling. This is Stanroy’s music center, it’s been there for a long time (thirty years or more). I remember coming here the first time I ever came to America, in 2002, and getting surprised at how much cheaper guitars were than in the UK.

stanroy's

Thankfully no children accidentally wandering into the picture (unless there was a kid inside having a clarinet lesson or something). I did the shadows darker than I’d meant to (because I normally undervalue them), but they were pretty much like this.

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.