i’ve got a lot of songs but they’re all in my head

a corner of musicWhen massive storms are swirling outside, you need to stay in, and draw your home. This corner of the apartment is where we keep the music. Why is it that no matter how many CDs I have I only ever listen to the same few ones? I used to listen to a lot more music than I do now, years ago, or at least it feels like that. Maybe it’s because I don’t spend my weekends jumping about to the crackle of records as I did when I was a teenager, or fall asleep to the repeats of a CD, or commute for an hour plus to the hiss of a tape deck, as I did for too many years in London. I have an mp3 player now, everything on random shuffle. My two-year-old likes music. When we get up together on early weekend mornings we put on some top tunes and rock out with air guitar to our breakfast. He likes ‘Formed a Band’. And ‘Yellow Submarine’. He’s a budding little artist too – that’s one of his finger-paintings on the wall there.

When I was a teenager, it was all about the records, Never Mind The Bollocks, full blast. Not really any feeling quite like it. It’s what teenagers do. If I listen to it now, I swear I can still hear my mum or dad shouting my name up the stairs (not usually to turn it down, funny enough, more often just to come down and make a cup of tea). I guess I have all that to look forward to.

bye bye tree

last view of the tree, till next year

It’s January 6th, so time to take down the tree, and put away the decorations! This is our little tree we got for our first Xmas in America, and we still have it. The ornaments, mostly my wife’s, go back years; some are older than I am, I think. The corner will look so bare without the tree, even though only half the lights were working on it (I never got around to changing them!). Oh well, it really is a new year now.

i wish it could be christmas every day

I hope you all had a very Happy Christmas! We did. A Merry one too.

christmas stockings

This is the very Christmassy fireplace at my wife’s mom’s house. To carry a British tradition over with me, I brought a tin of Quality Street from the UK, and to carry on another tradition (a Scully tradition) I swiftly nabbed all the purple ones before you could say ‘ho ho ho’! 

America doesn’t have Cliff Richard, thankfully. But I did make sure we listened to Slade, Wizzard and Shakin’ Stevens on the way over. Along with John Denver and the Muppets, of course! I must say thought that since moving to America, Jose Feliciano’s ‘Feliz Navidad‘ has become one of my favourite Chrimbo songs!

On Christmas Eve I made some delicious mince pies – my son even left one out for Santa. I did add finely ground sugar (I ground it myself!) to decorate them. That one on the end exploded a little. I did also make big individual trifles, but didn’t photograph them, in case I turned into a foodblogger (we watched Julie and Julia the other day).  

for your mince pies only

Happy New Year!

home again

mum's kitchenI just got back from two weeks in London, where the weather was changeable and there was Match of the Day, trifle and turkey rasher sandwiches to look forward to. And now the scanning and posting begins in earnest! I sketched a lot in London. There was a lot to sketch. But it was cold, very cold, sometimes wet, very wet, and the sun went down at about half-past three, so it was dark, very dark. I loved it. I do miss my home town sometimes.

However, by being across the pond we were missing Thanksgiving, so my American wife cooked my British family a lovely Thanksgiving meal of roast turkey, mashed potaoes, green beans with caramelized onions, gravy and amazing pumpkin pie to finish it off. Thanksgiving is my favourite of the American holidays, by far, so it was nice to share that with my family in Burnt Oak.mum's living room

I got up very early (jetlag) and sketched in the kitchen, pre-meal. I also drew a slice of the living room. I wasn’t involved with the cooking; my job that day was to entertain my son, so I took him out and we explored the town where I was born (well, the suburb), the park, the shops, the library. This is the house where I grew up, drawn quickly in purple micron pen.

It was nice being back home in the UK, though it was only for a short while. I enjoyed Match of the Day (Lineker and his banter with Hansen), I lapped up the trifle (especially my brother’s, he has a secret recipe), and I ate a lot of turkey rasher sandwiches. Bliss.

it’s a bit complicated

i couldn't sleep

#1 in a series of 1. Most likely. Might be a story idea, or just random thoughts. This is the living room. By the way, if you do ride your bike around town at 4am, please remember your bike-light. I always do. It’s the law. It’s also annoying when a fellow cyclist comes hurtling towards you the wrong direction of the bike lane with no light on. You feel obliged to make some sort of self-righteous grunt or comment as you pass. But then, you don’t want to be That Cyclist, either.

 

telly-apathy

29, tv

Penultimate entry, #29 of 30. Funny I should do this on the day of the Emmy’s. Don’t tell me, oh you should get BBC America. If I wanted to watch back-to-back repeats of crap shows like ‘Coupling’, I would have gotten it by now. But they don’t show Match of the Day, so sod ’em.

If you want a vision of the future, they say, imagine a reality tv show, stamping on a human soul, forever. But isn’t Big Brother ending next year in the UK? Long, long overdue, that show, from the man whose ancestor gave us the London sewage system.

And so, this particular reality series is almost over (in fact I just drew the last one), a series of mundane facts about the author, not the most important or interesting parts, but just what I happened to come across while rearranging my head. And my apartment. And it may even be fluff, but hey, I’m fluffy.

so let’s see your kit for games

27, football shirts

#27 of 30. Some of you know my love for football shirts (or soccer uniforms, if you prefer). I’m a bit of a connoisseur, an enthusiast. Not really a collector, but I have a few. I have a Spurs away kit from the early 90s which is signed by Klinsmann, Sheringham, Anderton, Ardiles, and the rest. I do wear my tops at weekends sometimes, but all that static polyester turns me into a walking van de graaf generator. 

I’ve wanted to have a chat – my annual chat, for sure – about this season’s footy kits. All summer I checked daily the following sites, footballshirtculture.com and football-shirts.co.uk, for news on every new shirt release around the world. As always, the South American and smaller British clubs choose practically naked women to promote their tops (almost oxymoronic there); see Linfield’s away kit if you don’t believe me. Some kits this year have been nice – England’s new tailored home kit is lovely, and is the first England kit I’d even consider buying. I’m incredibly envious of Arsenal’s two new away shirts. But there have once more been a slew of lame blah-blah kits this year, with few really original designs for clubs, particularly from the larger companies such as Nike and Puma. Oh, Puma – will I ever like a Puma kit? It’s funny, because the answer to that is yes – I will always like the previous one better than the new one, because they are getting worse. The current windscreen-wipers /chevron template they are overusing has produced some horrific results, but none more ghastly than Tottenham’s current home kit. Awful sponsor aside, the introduction of yellow streaks (cue jokes all over N5, “what do you mean ‘introduction'”, etc) to produce this monstrosity means I’ll be waiting another year for a home kit I might want. It’s not just Puma though – even Adidas have gone for the shock factor with Newcastle’s new yellow-and-custard striped away shirt. Poor Newcastle – they get relegated, and are then told to wear that shirt in front of thousands – okay, hundreds – of people.

But the foulest kit, the most shocking kit of all time perhaps, even more so than Arsenal’s early 90s away kit, has to be Partick Thistle’s new away kit, surely done as a bet, a pink/grey/white camouflage kit. It just has to be a joke. It’s chavalicious. And Puma again.

You can see many of the best and worst kits of all time at perhaps my favourite site on the net: historical football kits. The research these guys have done at HFK is beyond phenomenal, showing images of shirts from all years of English and Scottish football. Its readers help out by forwarding any information they may have; I once sent them a photo I’d found of the Spurs laundry-lady hanging out kits in the mid-30s, showing that we wore navy and white hoops away. Highly exciting stuff for the football kit historian!

And so there you have it, my football kit obsession. It’s funny really, because apart from the beloved adidas trainers, I actually really hate most sportswear.

dog bless

26, dog person

#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.

the only way is up

23, i lie on the floor

#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.

camera obscura

IF magnify

Well, not really obscura. This is my entry for Illustration Friday, theme of ‘Magnify‘. The camera on the table looking at the living room. Not really magnified, but you could if you want to.