no colours any more

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. 

illustration friday: primitive

I still have all the postcards i’ve ever been sent. I still love sending postcards myself, from all the places I visit.

primitive

These days, fewer people bother. One friend told me he doesn’t send them any more, since there’s email and texting and facebook, but that misses the point of the postcard.  Another friend, on the other hand, he sends me postcards from various places he visits in the UK on his acting tours, and I love it. You don’t collect those emails in a dusty old shoebox that you come across many years later (one of the postcards in the picture was sent by my oldest friend, tel, from a holiday in devon when he was about 13 or 14, when it was the furthest he’d ever been; now he lives in korea). You can’t stick those facebook wall entries to your fridge. Writing and sending postcards does take a little effort, but it’s an enjoyable effort, and brings a little more sunshine into the world than seeing “inbox: 1”.

Here’s my illustration friday entry for this week, theme: primitive. Here’s to the more primitive forms of communication. Answers on a postcard. 

sitting in his nowhere land

nice place

The last, or the 24th if you prefer, of the You See Davis word/image unrelations. It has been fun. I will do more, similar things of equal unimportance. There may be slight differences. Rounded edges, perhaps.

This could be anywhere.

But it’s the large metallic window-sparse building called the ‘Death Star’ locally. I don’t know why; it’s not round, it has no superlaser, as far as I’m aware it has the ability to process a lot of paperwork but not yet functional to destroy planets, and I think its exhaust pipes are a little better protected. Maybe the locals know something I don’t? Tractor beams? There are a lot of farmers here…

modern love walks on by

it got very hot today in Davis – 88, 90 degrees? felt like more – and in the afternoon I went cycling, and drew this house on B street. So hot for April, when in England I hear it’s raining. Rain? Is that the one where the water falls out of the sky?

we need to talk

something important

The 22nd of the You See, Davis series (see the rest here); this 24-pic davis-themed series will end soon, and has been a little slow in completing lately, but has so far gone from autumn to spring.

If you eat out in America, you may know this feeling. You’re in the middle of a sentence, when “So how is everything today?” inserts itself rudely across the table. You’ve just taken your second large bite of your roast chicken, when “would you like to see the dessert menu today?”. “Can I get you a refill on that?” after two sips of a diet coke. See that’s not good service, good service is knowing when not to butt in.

my baby don’t care for clothes

 baby & bunny part 1baby & bunny part 2

One of my art goals this year is to learn to draw baby. One particular baby. So far I’ve mostly drawn him asleep; only twice have I drawn him awake, both times from a photo. Above are the second attempts; the boy with his easter bunny. I drew in pencil and scanned before adding watercolour; still learning. I tell you what though: the top he’s wearing, I totally want that top in daddy size. It’s damn cool. Luke’s got some cool baby clothes. Of course, he quite likes to stain them.