dog bless

September 9, 20091 Comment

#26 in a series of 30. Dogs. Not my thing. I’m just not that into them. People – and not smart people – love to think the world is divided into ‘dog people’ and ‘cat people’, elvis people and beatles people, lib’rals and cons’rvatives, celtic and rangers, tea and coffee. And it’s not. I don’t even like the whole pigeonholing thing. I happen to like cats a lot though. And tea, and lib’rals, and the beatles and celtic, but you know what I mean. And then people act as though liking both cats and dogs (as many do) is a novel and radical buck of the trend. It isn’t. They’re both animals, they both poo on the carpet. Personally I love tortoises. They don’t leave hair on your best black clothes.

So in this drawing there is a toy dog. It’s not mine, and no I’m not scared of it. There is also a lead, to continue the dog theme. Ok it’s a power cable type of lead but you know what I mean.

For me however, Dog People has another meaning. When I lived in Aix-en-Provence, the centre-ville had a small but prominent population of ‘dog people’, scruffy ‘swampy’ types who would hang about the fountainsides beating drums and smoking and letting their many dogs, possibly their daemons, chase each other around the town squares. The Dog People. Everyone knew them.

I like that phrase though, ‘let sleeping dogs lie’. It’s true, too. We had a dog when i was younger (‘Soppydog’) and it used to tell some whoppers in its sleep.

its sculptor well those passions read

September 8, 2009Leave a comment

#25 of 30. Nearly there folks! Yes this is lego. Baby-lego. Since my son got them, I have regained my incredible lego building skills. I’m not an architect, but I am certainly a legotect, and can build any manner of planes, trains and space-rockets with the stuff.

The British Museum…Yes, I did a bit of Interactive Theatre years ago, I was really into it, running some performance-and-games-based workshops, using the methods of Ali Campbell, the brilliant guy who taught me, and Augusto Boal, the brilliant guy who taught him (and father of the art). It’s something I was good at, but never did get back into. Anyhow, the Hidden Histories project was a major eye-opener; a series of workshops with inspirational performers from Shape Arts, a disability arts organisation in London, culminating in an abstract promenade performance among the statues, ruins and spectators of the Greek rooms in the British Museum. We were told (and it might even be true) that it was one of the first (if not the first) time the British Museum had been used to host performance art. It was themed around the histories that are hidden not only in the statues and stones, but also in the people you pass every day, able-bodied and disabled. One thing I learnt was that a lot of the people we were calling disabled were a great deal more able in so many ways than most able-bodied people. I was involved with a few other projects with the Shape performers but this one was the most educational, and most fun.

As did the others, I kept a journal to document the process – not full of the sort of drawings I do now, but cartoony diagrammy stuff, notes, quotes, scribbles, quibbles. The journals were in fact displayed at the British Museum on the days of the performances, down in the education centre. I even made little plasticine figures to represent one segment of the performance. I recall, in the wine reception after the main show (and the press were there), a woman was browsing the journals and was spending a lot of time looking at my one, and she asked me (not knowing it was mine) how old the children were that made these. “Well that child was twenty-five,” I said. I was elated.

losing my trainer thought

September 7, 2009Leave a comment

#24 of 30. Trainers, or sneakers, or tennis shoes, or whatever they’re called. I’ll never say ‘a-dee-das’ though. It is ironic however that I absolutely hate shoe stores, I cannot stand the places. I hatebuying shoes, it fills me with dread. I also hate sports stores (except those devoted to football shirts, like the one in Davis, which is really cool). And yet I love shopping for adidas trainers. Not that I do it very often of course. But for me, once every couple of years or so is often.

the only way is up

September 7, 20094 Comments

#23 of 30. Occasionally I lie on the floor, just to look up. It’s comfy down there. The only way is up. But I’ll tell you what, drawing while lying on the floor and looking up is bloody hard. An unusual one this.

bravely ran away, away

August 26, 2009September 3, 20092 Comments

When I was in my teens, I learned to run. My mate Terry was really into running at the time and so he always wanted to run around the park after school. My dad, and I don’t quite know why, got a running machine at home, put it in the living room, and I used it to practice. And I got quite quick. Not as quick as Terry, but pretty quick. At sports day I would usually do pretty well, in the 100 metres anyway – I didn’t have the stamina for much else, except 200m. Oh, and the javelin. I tended to get lucky in that I’d race against really slow people too. I obviously won enough races that the sports teacher picked me for the athletics team one time, to race at Copthall in the 100 metres sprint. I think Terry may have had something to do with it. I was about 14. Everyone I was racing against was at least 16. Even though I was just as tall as most of them, I felt tiny. You never know, I told myself. Maybe the Force will be with me. And then they bolted. Sure, I gave it my best shot, but contrary to lying cartoons the tortoise does not beat the hare, came a woeful last. Oh well. I went back to the art class, and never raced again.

I don’t run any more, don’t exercise much at all.

#22 of 30. Incidentally, I have decided to name this series “I hold my pen in an unusual way”, after the first (and most appropriate) entry.

all we are saying is give peas a chance

August 25, 2009August 25, 20092 Comments

#21 of 30. No peas for me. Don’t even try to convince me because I will not eat them. End of. Frozen, they are good for nursing scrapes and bruises. Give me baked beans any day. Beans on Toast, the staple of growing up. Gotta be on toast. Noodles too, as you know, my favourite food. A funny thing, this week my wife was looking in a recipe book for toddlers and it suggested sardines, on toast. “Who’d eat that?” she asked. “Me!!!” I said in excitement. The book was obviously British. I loved Sardines on Toast, especially sardines in those little tins of tomato sauce. They don’t really do the “___-on-toast” dinner choice here in America like we do back home. I grew up on it of course. But I’ll tell you one thing, you don’t put peas on toast, and that may be why I don’t like them. No, the reasons are listed above. It was those school mushy peas, alongside the domes of pure white ‘potato’, tasteless and dehydrating, that swung it for me. And I’ve not looked back. I will not give peas a chance.

careful now

August 24, 2009August 25, 200913 Comments

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The Jaws that bite, the claws that catch.
Beware the jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious bandersnatch.

Been a while since I drew an Illustration Friday, so here is one, on the theme of ‘Caution‘. I was in the office during lunchtime, because I didn’t want to go outside (it wasn’t too hot, in fact it was very nice, I was just feeling agoraphobic, which isn’t good for an urban sketcher), I was listening to the BBC world service, and decided to draw the little contraption I use to remove staples, the destapler (I don’t care if that’s not what it’s really called). To me, it is the single-most scary item in the office. Yes, the automatic shredder may do more devestating damage, and I never touch the insidious ink toner if I can avoid it. But this little thing bares its big sharp teeth, like a little metal piranha, or a futuristic nano-crocodile. It could just be posturing, trying to mark its territory. Either way, you should treat such frumious bandersnatches with caution. And that’s my illustration.

circo sandals

August 24, 2009August 24, 2009Leave a comment

Next of my son’s shoes, the ones currently most worn, the blue and turquoise Circo sandals. Though I got a bit over-zealous with the penwork, and so you’d never guess the blue or turquoise. And so in this series I have finally caught up with the currently-worn, rather than the no-longer-fits. There is another shoe to draw (though I may yet draw this again from a different angle and in better light), but after that the series will slow down a bit, while feet grow and shoes are bought. I did say this would take a very long time!

van’s shoe

August 20, 20092 Comments

My son’s “Van’s” shoes, blue, white toe, and very cool. Too small for him now though; I would love a pair myself. I actually drew this shoe once before as part of the Miscellaneous Details drawing I did a couple of months ago, and enjoyed drawing it so much I turned it into a series. Above is the left shoe, below is the right.

Black copic 01 in moleskine cahier.

he’s had a dream for a year or two

August 19, 2009August 20, 20091 Comment

#20 in a series of 30. The cobalt copic fineliner pens are still holding out!

So this one is very appropriate, because right now Spurs are sitting at the top of the English Premier League, albeit after only two games. This new season has been very unusual – so far we have had no draws at all, and all of the London teams have been winning. But Spurs are top, and I’ll enjoy it while it lasts (that’ll be Saturday, then). It’s a nice change after last year, when we had to wait nine matches for our first win – and had to sack the manager to get it. Interestingly enough, the last time we won our first two matches was in 1994, when of all people Ossie Ardiles was manager! And he was sacked by November. Well, that’s Tottenham Hotspur for you.

Or “Tottingham” as Ossie used to call it. I was dumbstruck when I met him, outside the old Spurs training ground in Mill Hill, shortly before those two victories in ’94. I had met Klinsmann too of course, who had just arrived at the club, plus Sheringham, Anderton, Barmby, Mabbutt, all of those guys. After getting their autographs on a Spurs shirt (which I still have) and a few polaroids, I sat on the hood of a car to pack up my bag. And then Osvaldo CésarArdiles comes up and opens the car door! He was really nice, posed for a photo, said hello to my little sister, shook my shaking hand, and we left. He drove past as we walked down Bunn’s Lane, and actually waved. I know, it is incredible that a World-Cup winning footballer can actually say a few civil words and wave from a moving vehicle, but when you were the kid who wanted to actually be Ossie Ardiles, that is in fact a big deal. My knees were even trembly.