"Paint something purple"

That's what Rob said this morning, when I idly asked for a challenge.
By the time I came to do something about it I'd been on a Youtube binge, remembering "Daria" from late-90s television. The result is a hasty and impassioned tribute (or fan-art cop-out) to Mystik Spiral's Freakin' Friends.

Stitches

Gratuitous Embroidery Of Yourself Sunday.

The Waistbandit

I drew this on a train, back in March.
Even with Obama on our side (ref. Gawker), no good will come of boxer rebellion.

Faber Poetry

Whenever I'm in a bookshop (one that sells new books) I search first for any inspiring book covers. Firstly they're most appealing and secondly covers are a big part of professional practice as an illustrator.

Recently I discovered Faber & Faber's new set of poetry, new and old. The covers are all by contemporary printmakers in black and one other colour on white. The rough print effects are complemented by the textured paper finish. Here's the whole set.

Better still, one of the covers is by my printmaking tutor at Southampton Solent, Charles Shearer: fellow-Scot Don Patterson's "Nil Nil" (Look!), Although the traditional printmaking process is visible, it looks the most modern of the set. The others are delightfully retro in colour and style, but Shearer's shows how well abstract images can work.

Polo In The Park

Today Louisa and I went to watch polo at Hurlingham Park in London. Here are a few pen sketches. I've given up on brush-pens for a little while out of frustration at endless issues with the ink-flow. One day I'll get it right. The watercolour experiments make up for that in part.





Drawing sporting activity is a challenge. I had a go at sketching karate a few weeks ago, but the polo was another thing entirely, especially as I'm new to drawing horses. Their heads come out the wrong shape. Thanks to Louisa for explaining all the bits and bridles.



There were national and international matches; displays of horsemanship (and cheerleading); fine food; fresh coconuts and Pimm's flowing like water - albeit at £7.50 per pint.



I may have found my sport to follow.

To think - until today I had never stamped a divot!

Scanning

Scanning time. Again and again.
Project deadline in under twenty-four hours.

Plan:

1. Manipulate everything made so far.
2. Follow up more ideas (and scan it all in).
3. Make another version of every idea (and scan it all in).
4. Print it all out.
5. Organise it all into sections.
6. Prepare the previous project for external assessment.
7. Make coconut flapjack.
8. Pretend that I did it all much sooner.
   

Awl Over The Place

The current illustration project asks for non-western / non-renaissance influences. I've dabbled with Nigeria, 18th Century India, Easter Island, mediaeval England and pre-Columbian Mesoamerica...

and now I've returned to my archaeology notes and Janet Spector's influential work on symbolism and narrative, "What This Awl Means". The title was inspired by the drawled introduction, "What this all means...", known to students of heavyweight archeological theorist Lewis Binford. That's the story that my tutor told. Who am I to stop a tradition of bad puns?

The awl in question was found at Little Rapids, Minnesota. The centrepiece of Spector's book is her experiment in bringing an empathetic approach to the interpretation of an artifact. Here are some extracts from the story.

"Ha-za win (Blueberry Woman) and Mazomani were proud of their daughter, Mazo okiye win (One who talks to Iron). One day after visiting Faribault, they bought her a new iron awl tip and some glass beads. Even though she was still young (unmarried), she had already established a reputation among the people at Inyan cetake atonwan for hard work, creativity, and excellence through her skills in quill and bead work.
Her mothers and grandmothers taught her to keep careful record of her accomplishments, so whenever she finished quilling or beading a skin bag or pair of moccasins, she remembered to impress a small dot on the fine antler awl handle Ha-za win had made for her when she first went to dwell alone. When Mazo okiye win completed more laborious work like sewing and decorating buckskin dresses or leggings, she created diamond-shaped clusters of four small dots, one to the north, one south, one east, and one west, a pattern she designed to represent the powers of the four directions which guided her life in so many ways. [...] When she engraved the dots into her awl she carefully marked each with pigment she made [...]. Red, she knew, was a color associated with women and their life forces [...] it represented the east where the sun rose giving all knowledge, wisdom, and understanding."