This is the pool at our apartment complex here in Davis. I never go there. My mum however is visiting from England, and was sat out there catching some of the unending sunshine that we get here in California, so I joined her and sketched some of the pool area (after watching the FA Cup final played out in BBC website updates). This is what where I live looks like.
Part 3, of 30. I do actually wear my jumpers in the winter, and my scarves. No, I’ve never been a hot weather person. I do like it when it’s sunny, everything looks more lovely, and you get great shadows on paths and buildings which are too irresistable not to draw. But I don’t like actually being in the sun. I could never lie on the beach waiting for a sun-tan. I’m too pale and freckly, and my eyes too sensitive. When I was a kid, we would holiday in Spain; I would dash from shadow to shadow, and still somehow end up in agonising pain with skin the colour of a lobster.
See, the irony is now that I live in California I don’t actually have to worry about it. In England, you always felt guilty if it was sunny, felt like you had to go outside because tomorrow it might rain, and it might not be sunny again – this one day might just be our summer. Here, if it’s sunny in May it’ll be sunny until November. You can stay inside and out of the heat (very wise), and enjoy the sunshine in your own way (I watch it on the internet, personally). When I lived in Aix, in the South of France, you could always tell where the English lived because their window-shutters would be open. The Provencals on the other hand, they knew to keep them closed, lest the sun get in and turn their apartment into an oven. I made that mistake, and learnt fast. I recall spending several nights sleeping out on the balcony (and fending off pigeons) because it was too hot inside.
The other irony is that nowadays I feel guilty when it rains. I feel like I should be outside getting drenched, like in the old days. Things really are messed up.
Part two of the series, as-yet-unnamed. A name will come (answers on a postcard). So, coffee: I don’t drink the stuff. Can’t stand it. Funny enough I like eating chocolate covered coffee beans (many years ago I worked at Thornton’s Chocolates, in a Galaxy far far away). The whole coffee shop thing, that whole culture, the whole ritual of the big coffee cup in the morning, the smell of it wafting across the office block from cubicle to cubicle, the whole ‘don’t talk to me till I’ve had my coffee’ joke boring people like to have on little signs at their desk, the whole roasted java or colombian blend or rain forest bark weed or whatever they call it, all of that just passed me by. I’m not in the club. I was I’m sure comprehensively and definitively put off by those awful Gold Blend adverts in the late 80s, the ones with that guy out of Buffy (who was later the Prime Minister on Little Britain). Well that and the taste. I am a cuppa tea guy. You can trust a cuppa tea (when I make it, anyhow). Don’t give me infusions and green tea and peach tea and rain forest bark weed tea, just regular PG tips style, ‘ave it, don’t mess about. English greasy spoon cafe. Barry’s Irish tea too, the best teabags.
Funny enough though, I used to work at a coffee shop. At an Asda supermarket, even longer ago. Maybe that story will be a later entry in this series.
Ok. Thing is, I wanted to draw the new apartment in a kind of tryptich (or is it triptych?), and so I did, in three sepia blocks, each of which I’m showing separately here, along with the whole thing, and for bad measure, a photo of me holding the book (while watching ‘spaced’).
And this is also my entry for Illustration Friday this week (theme: ‘similar’). Our new apartment is very similar to our last one – it’s on the same complex, has all the same fixtures and fitting, but for one big thing – everything is reversed. It’s like walking into a mirror, but I like it inside this mirror, I much prefer it. even if there are more bugs (such as a centipede crawling up through the plughole – do I not like that!)
I was inspired because this week I got back my sketchbook from August’s Art House Co-Op Sketchbook Project, the theme of which was “How to Save The World”. My little book, which you can browse here, was filled with drawings of our own little world, the apartment where we spent all our time. I was saving the place I lived in, in the sense of recording it, so that in years to come I might look at it and say, yes I lived there, I remember that. Now we’ve moved I can do that already. And I can compare drawings of the new apartment to the old. The kitchen (above) is the other way round from how it is in this picture, for example. Even the hot and cold taps are reversed, not that you can tell, but I still get it wrong.
The first frame shows the baby monitor. Baby was sleeping soundly. That is, not making much of a sound. The second frame shows Mr Salt, the saltpot, and his lover Mrs Pepperpot. Mr Salt has very big trousers. He is either grossly deformed or carries a lot in is pockets (perhaps he too is an urban sketcher?). 
I think Mr. Salt is Dutch, but he comes from England. He is also into the lost practise of trepanning. You can also see the Christmas Tree, put up last weekend, hopefully out of the reach of little mischievous hands (I don’t mean those of Mr Salt, whose hands are stuck to his trousers). The final frame, looking over at the CD tower and the music players and the calendar of new york city, has a bottle of the local Sudwerk beer in it. This is purely decorative. I was actually drinking a cup of tea, but thought a beer bottle would look better. I pulled it from the recycling. I like Sudwerk, the Märzen variety, it’s a nice German style amber beer brewed just down the road from bei uns. One of the things I really like about living out here in the American West are the micro-brews – not as big a thing on the East coast. Back in London, we have the pubs alright, but I way prefer the beers out here. You can see also a Micron Pigma pen on the table; you can’t get those in England either (or at least, I couldn’t). Incidentally, I drew this in a copic multiliner 0.1.
So this is home. Not quite the same as the old apartment, but very similar.
Nice to be home; New York was very busy (I still have more drawings to post, of course). We flew back via a snowstorm in Minneapolis (after rain and sun in the Big Apple), back to the warmer wee hours of Sacramento. Novembers in Davis are bright and sunny, sometimes a bit chilly, sometimes a little rainy, but right now it’s warm and enviable. Lovely weather. Nice long shadows creeping across apartment buildings.
This however is cobweb season; for some reason, Novembers in Davis mean waling down the road avoiding huge long cobwebs that are floating from every lamp-post and tree. I hate getting caught in a floating web. You get that creepy feeling for ages afterwards, like there are things crawling on you.
The picture: notice the big black blob on the left side, that’s where my usually trusty micron pen exploded, suddenly, leaving a large black globule of ink I do not want to get on the furniture or clothes all over the page. The perils of drawing!
Illustration Friday this week, well, “packed” – considering we still aren’t completely unpacked it was appropriate. Two weeks in the new place and it’s still hard to remove some objects from their very temporary homes. We only moved a hundred yards, for heaven’s sake, I can see my old apartment from my new one (it’s a bit like seeing Russia from Sarah Palin’s house). The books are all on the shelf (permanent positions undecided), CDs, records, glasses, knives and forks; it’s the stuff marked “misc” (or “pete misc”, to be precise) that is having a hard time settling.
Speaking of new homes: this is my 100th post on my new website (hence the title). That’s 700 posts in all if you include the old blog. Wow. At this rate, I should hit 1000 posts in around… April 2010.
First drawing in the new apartment. Unpacked boxes not in view. Wish I hadn’t done the shsding lines on the walls, but they have a ‘sod it, just finish and go to bed’ feel to them. This apartemtn is in reverse to the old one, it’s wierd, like bizarro world or something.
I hate the first page of a new sketchbook; never know what to draw, for some reason. So on opening my third watercolour moleskine I just drew what was right in front of me, on my desk. There’s a glass, almost completely empty (or very slightly full, depending on your worldview, ooh link that to bush’s take on the economy). There’s the Beatles crossing Abbey Road (trivia question for you – are they going towards or away from the studios?). There’s Magneto, master of magnetism, rendered (in cruel irony) in plastic. Scissors I bought six years ago in Aix. A couple of microns, plus a copic. The pc screen (watching “south park” online). A Spurs badge – I’ve had this since I was ten, bought at a game at the Lane in ’86 when we beat Man City – it’s known as the “lucky spurs badge”, and is a famous relic (my mate Tel will tell you, should you see him). I wish it would still work, we seem to be selling most of the team. There’s Greedo, having reeked revenge on Han Solo, but with Cyclops behind him about to shoot first (I just had an image of Cyclops shooting Greedo under the table and wow, it was not pretty). And a half-hidden Vader behind him in the shadows. And there’s a couple of post-it notes with stuff about milk supply and stuff on them.
Now that’s out of the way (and you’re thinking I’m a geek, well maybe I am, or just untidy), I can move on with the sketchbook. Back to trees and buildings. It’s a little cooler here in Davis now, and not as smoky.
After – how long is it, a month and a half maybe? – it looks as though I am finished with the ‘how to save the world’ sketchbook project is finished. Well, there are a few finishing touches to be done to the inside cover, perhaps, but all of the pieces are now complete. Here we are then, at parts 23 to 27.
Part 23 is ‘feed the baby’, which is a pretty good idea if baby wants to keep growing like he does. And he does. Most of these drawings were done at night either while waiting for baby to wake up for his bottle (in this case he was sleeping pretty well), or just after he’s had his bottle and gone back to sleep.
Part 24 is ‘write postcards’ – as you may have seen from a previous colourful
drawing, i do like postcards, and have a great deal, in fact it is possible that by saving these little pieces of the world over the years i am in fact saving the world, you saw that one coming didn’t you. (ok no you didn’t but i bet you like to think you had).
Part 25 is fairly relevant to the current period as it is follow the football, or the footy, or as many of you on this side of the pond say, the saacurrr. This is 
a fair attempt at drawing a couple of footy magazine and a pile of football shirts while watching the semi-finals the Euro 2008.
Part 26 is easier said than done for an up-late-stayer comme moi. My foot appears to have edged into the picture. The crib obviously belongs to the baby. He was alseep in there while I drew, so I had to be quiet with those micron pigma pens. There is a cd player, playing pre-
recorded noises of the bathroom fan, which helps the baby sleep; he’ll probably grow up all into avant-garde experimental sampling music now, oh dear.
And then finally, at the top, Part 27 which is of course ‘save the world’.
And so the overall theme was to draw things around the home (which is where the world begins for everybody) because by drawing them you are saving them in some format. And the writing is completely and utterly made up as I went along with pretty much no aforethought whatsoever. Pretty much like the world in general I think. And there you have it. I’ll have to send this off to Atlanta at some point soon.
petescully 