I did this illustration some time back as part of a storyboard proposal for a little children’s story that I wrote. I’ve just had news that there’s a small budget to go ahead with it. It should be completed some time in 2009.
Thank You.
Archive for the 'sketches that i made' Category
Today is a sad day. I just feel shitty. I’ve been overdoing quite a few things lately and now I’m just sick and tired and lonely and miserable. Also I have a really tight deadline within the next few hours. I need to try and be professional. This is always so weird for me. Pretending not to have emotions. Pretending not to be distracted. Pretending to care about stuff that really means little to me and that probably I will forget soon. But I need to keep doing it often to pay my bills. This is not always so hard but today it just is. Times like this remind me of one of the saddest days of my life. I just drew this picture and then everything was gone. I still cry about it sometimes. Even if you don’t believe me. I hope I make the deadline. I hate feeling sorry for myself always but sometimes I just get so tired I don’t care and just let it go a bit.
At least I have the weekend to look forward to.
Thank You.
This is a quick sketch I made the other day with a super cool Chinese bamboo pen that I’ve been carrying around the world with me for years and some Chinese ink on shitty yellowing cheap paper. Everything that’s China and Art is always a winner. They have always been light years ahead. Pictured here is some artist or other. I think I remember who but I’m not going to say. He’s very very good and this looks little like him. But it was fun to make.
Thank You.
Quite a few years back in London I volunteered to help in a suicide helpline centre. I was only working regular office hours so I had plenty of free time. I had been through a few cheesy common things in life that seemed personally tough to me and I liked to think that I had come to terms with some of them. So I thought that maybe I could help others a bit with their problems. Looking back I think that I was pretty fucked up myself. I like to think that I’ve improved a bit over the years but reckon I’ll probably say the same thing again looking back in a few years time. I hope so. I like to feel that I’ve progressed.
Anyway the place had quite a nice vibe and the people were cool. They were mostly friendly and relaxed and easy to talk to. I was quite gutted when I was rejected after the selection process. Looking back I think that it was a good decision. I don’t think that I was ready for this and I’m not sure that I’ll ever be.
The best thing for me about organisations like this is that they offer free advice. Actually it’s not advice. They just listen. Whenever I’ve taken advice from people who are taking my money the advice has been up to shit or of very limited value. So if I have any problems now I just talk to friends or family or ring one of these numbers.
I find it strange when there is a subject that is so serious but not much discussed. Perhaps if people could relax a bit more about discussing suicide it might be cease to be such a devastating problem. I think things are moving slowly in this direction and this is good.
I think that things like Darwin Awards are quite good as they lighten things around the subject a little and make it easier to talk about.
Here’s a picture that I made about this story:
Have a nice day. Thank you.
Some friends were inspired by the classic Edward Lear poem The Owl and the Pussycat to throw a theme party. I made this little picture for the invitation. It was fun.
Here’s the whole poem:
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are.”
Pussy said to the Owl “You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?”
Said the Piggy, “I will”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Some of the nonsense language of the poem reminds me of A Clockwork Orange and Bonnie Rarker’s classic…
This is the story of Rindercella and her sugly isters.
Rindercella and her sugly isters lived in a marge lansion. Rindercella
worked very hard frubbing sloors, emptying poss pits, and shivelling
shot.
At the end of the day, she was knucking fackered.
The sugly isters were right bugly astards. One was called Mary Hinge,
and the other was called Betty Swallocks; they were really forrible
huckers;they had fetty sweet and fetty swannies. The sugly isters had
tickets to go to the ball, but the cotton runts would not let
Rindercella go.
Suddenly there was a bucking fang, and her gairy fodmother appeared.
Her name was Shairy Hithole and she was a light rucking fesbian. She
turned a pumpkin and six mite wice into a hucking cuge farriage with
six dandy ronkeys who had buge hollocks and dig bicks
The gairy fodmother told Rindercella to be back by dimnlight otherwise,
there would be a cucking falamity.
At the ball, Rindercella was dancing with the prandsome hince when
suddenly the clock struck twelve. “Mist all chucking frighty!!!” said
Rindercella, and she ran out tripping barse over ollocks, so dropping
her slass glipper.
The very next day the prandsome hince knocked on Rindercella’s door and
the sugly isters let him in. Suddenly, Betty Swallocks lifted her leg
and let off a fig bart. “Who’s fust jarted??” asked
the prandsome hince.
“Blame that fugly ucker over there!!” said Mary Hinge. When the
stinking brown cloud had lifted, he tried the slass glipper on both the
sugly isters without success and their feet stucking funk.
Betty Swallocks was ducking fisgusted and gave the prandsome hince a
knack in the kickers. This was not difficult as he had bucking fuge
halls and a hig bard on.
He tried the slass glipper on Rindercella and it fitted pucking
ferfectly.
Rindercella and the prandsome hince were married. The pransome hince
lived his life in lucking fuxury, and Rindercella lived hers with a
follen swanny.