Tag: sepia

going strøget

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copenhagen, strøget

Drew this from a photo taken on my first trip to Denmark (strawberries, adidas shorts, 1995), strøget in Copenhagen. The photo itself is bright and sunny and colourful, but for some reason I changed it to sepia and old-fashioned. Well, it’s historical, for me. I was nineteen and adventurous (and skint). I just decided one day to go and pick jordbaer in the south of Fyn, meeting lots of interesting people along the way. Back in those days they didn’t have the long road bridges between the isles: a trip across Denmark meant getting on lots of ferries. There was a great ferry that the train rolled onto, and off again once in port, straight onto the tracks. That hot summer, the night in Copenhagen came last. I must have had about ten quid’s worth of krone left. Doesn’t get you very far in Denmark. I went to an atrociously bad hostel, paid my money, sat on the bed (with the hudnred or so other beds in the converted gym around me, got up, went to the front desk, got my krones back and went off into the night. My bags were locked at the station, and went to a karaoke bar, and while singing ‘going underground’ I told Denmark about my predicament, and I swear I didn’t have to buy another drink that whole night. I was younger then. I got on the bus for London the next morning (the bus! Back before the cheap flights boom, the 24 hour eurobus ride from hell was the way the poor travelled) I had one Danish krone left, one of those coins with a hole in it. I threaded a piece of string through it and made it into a necklace. I probably still have it somewhere.

I’ve been back a couple of times since, each with different stories. A friend of mine just had his stag do in Aarhus, another place I’ve been a couple of times; wish I could have gone this time! I could at least afford the drinks now.  I love Denmark, it’s expensive but the people really are the friendliest.

all on a misty morning

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SF trip, part 4: After a fairly good sleep, I got up on sunday morning and found the nearest place on Polk that sold enormously sticky custard-filled pastries, and came across a little shop called “You Say Tomato”, which specializes in British (and Irish) foods. And to my delight, they had a can of Lilt!

drinking pop on larkin

Yes, Lilt, the pineapple and grapefruit fizzy drink, you can’t get it over here and it’s the perfect sunday morning (when you think you might get a hangover) beverage. They had other stuff, Tizer, Irn-Bru, and I purposely didn’t take too much of a look around in case I was waylaid by loads of cadbury’s chocolates, but I saw a man carrying five or six cans of Heinz Baked Beans: pretty obvious he was British. I found an interesting corner and drew the picture above while drinking my Lilt, carefully removing all of the cars to give the impression that SF has more parking than it really does.

Unlike the day before, Sunday was pretty cool and very foggy, which was a welcome change. I got on the bus and was changing at fillmore, in the bit with all the cute little shops and cafes, when I saw this movie theatre below, and decided to draw that too, in extremely muted sepia tinted colours. And I never did get that hangover.  

clay theatre, fillmore street

life across the pond

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houses by hampstead heath ponds

I love that part of Hampstead Heath by the big ponds, especially those big multi-windowed brown brick houses clustered along the edge. That’ll be them above. Not sure I’d like the famous night-time entertainment though; all those politicians out looking for votes, as it were.

Did this drawing over a couple of evenings (interrupted by baby-feeding). Below is the work-in-progress.
hampstead pond houses (unfinished)

it’s a long, long way

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it's a long way

Actually it’s just down Fleet Street. First Irish pub in London (c. 1700), first pub outside Ireland to serve Guinness. Possibly the inspiration behind the song, at least I used to tell people that on the tour-bus. Well, it is a long way from Piccadilly and Leicester Square, if you really need a Guinness. Personally I don’t really like the stuff. Too much iron; turns your poo black, and leaves you open for an attack by mutant villain Magneto.  

fast to westminstar-ward i went

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by st giles

I regret not sketching as much as I now do when I lived in London, for there is so much history and life to draw. I’ve drawn these railings before (with a burnt bike), and I thought I should start my sketching here. I met Simon and we proceeded on a sketchcrawl through a surprisingly sunny London. We walked through the narrow streets of St Giles and Covent Garden, as the city I’d not seen in a year came flooding back. After drawing the pic below (a whisky shop in covent garden; i was trying out a new brown micron pigma, i need to work on that effetc though), we stopped off for a Belgian beer (I had Maredsous) and some frites at the Bierodrome in Kingsway.

whisky shop in covent garden st paul's

And then, through my old haunts of Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Chancery Lane (to see the spectacular Maughan Library), and Fleet Street, before crossing Ludgate (pointing out the face of King Lud) and reaching St. Paul’s (and doing the sketch on the right, previously posted). More to come!

london lickpenny

tombé en panne

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G & 4th, davis

Today was very hot in Davis; not good for allergies, not good if you hate bugs, not good for redheads like pete. After spending the morning playing guitar to the baby I decided to get out on the bike to draw. My bike, however, did not think so. After twenty minutes, on the bike path, it just died; the back wheel refused to spin. I wrestled with it in the heat for an hour, getting filthy, before taking it to a bike shop, where they apparently fixed it by turning a nut with a wrench. Ok, thanks, yes I tried that with my bare hands, that might have been the problem. I cleaned up, and finally got to draw something, choosing a particularly nondescript corner, in fairly nondescript sepia, because I was in a mood.

I then got on my bike to go home. And after ten minutes, the chain went, and then five minutes later the back wheel stopped again, stopped like a french worker in striking season (that’s about this time of year, usually). I had to abandon it, I had no phone with me, there were no payphones, and so I walked home defeated in the heavy heat.

I think the phrase is ‘Bugger’.

no colours any more

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no colours any more

The silo, yet again, at lunchtime, encore une fois, in sepia, for a change, today. Hey. it’s at a slightly different angle. I sat on my little stool beneath a tree (it was a lovely sunny day). The last time I drew it though (a month ago, in sepia) the tower was bare, now it is full of leaves and a luscious summery green (um, as you can see in this very brown picture).

Brown…when I was a kid, I used to think Bran Flakes were actually called Brown Flakes, because they were brown, and we were from London, that’s how you say it. Bran Flakes.  Similarly, whenever Americans would talk of what we know as cling-film, Saram-Wrap, I thought it was called Surround-Wrap (again, makes sense, ‘cos it saraands it), because my accent said so. Quite a surprise when I found out. Maybe my way makes more sense.