minors...miners

The last two of the triptych. The full set is titled 'They Will Not Dream of Us Poor Lads'. I stayed awake for 36 hours to finish these off. Sleep deprivation does interesting things to the connection between my brain and my mouth. A lot of inane, observatory things were said on the ride home from uni.
All done however and set up without any of the images going skewiff in my hazey eyed state. Now all there is to do is wait for the results on thursday. Bleurgh. It would be nice to get a decent grade after such a crappy year but i'm not holding my breath.

The sketchbooks. I miss them.



little richard - lucille

until we see the moon we're invisible


A few things to fill in but altogether pretty much finished.
My fingers actually ache.
And i have two more to complete.
I hate bricks.
Strawberry Yoghurt Flavour Millions sustained me though.
Cheers Em =]



wolf parade - modern world

these dark satanic mills

Taking a break to post the progress on the first image for my final triptych. Knackering!

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my charriot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

- William Blake 'The New Jerusalem'



broken social scene - lover's spit

the rip

I finally decided to post this silverpoint drawing - crappy photo, i know - after many days of deliberating whether it was finished or not. I think it is.

I spent a good long while working on this. The reference photo is a fantastic image by Lewis Hine. The point of this was to play with insubstantiality, whether i could draw people realistically but detract a wholeness from them. I don't know if this has been achieved, i guess that's up to the viewer but i enjoyed this immensely. It's the kind of work i've been yearning to do all year but have been persuaded into more 'experimental' styles. Wanky, pretentious, modern crap in other words
At this point in time i don't paint, i don't make films, i don't sculpt, i draw and that's just fine.

Anyhow, point made, this is the image i'm working on now. Probably not part of the final piece but a work towards it.

Oh, and i finished 'White Is For Witching'. It was kind of crap. Oh well.



watching: skins series 2

i caught myself

I don't know about anyone else but i have days where i can't draw to save my life.
And it wrecks me.

Today was one of those days.
Bleurgh to April 15th.



paramore - decode

delicate things


A quick silverpoint of a randomly chosen girl in my great great aunt Cathy's class photograph.
A bit shoddy and done through bleary, sleepy eyes. My brain wouldn't let me sleep.



paramore - emergency

bright lights, big city

After a few days too many, due to a nostalgic need to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I finished Jay McInerney's 'Bright Lights, Big City'. I was all set to hate it, i can't quite figure out why but there seems to have been some underlying bad feeling towards the novel. Who knows. I liked it though. A little vapid, a little Holden Caulfield - which to be fair is hard to avoid when writing about disaffected youths - but all in all a pretty good read about the drugged up 'elite' with deep-seated issues.
But i'd rather read Nick McDonell's 'Twelve'.
As per usual, i was on the lookout for good quotes within the book and scored two:

'The sound of the tumblers in the locks of your apartment door puts you in mind of dungeons. The place is haunted. Just this morning you found a makeup brush beside the toilet. Memories lurk like dustballs at the back of drawers. The stereo is a special model that plays only music fraught with poignant associations.'

'He picks up a bag of hard rolls and throws it at your feet.
You get down on your knees and tear open the bag. The smell of warm dough envelops you. The first bite sticks in your throat and you almost gag. You will have to go slowly. You will have to learn everything all over again.'

My throat feels like sandpaper. Bleurgh. I'm going to get so sick of drinking tea.

white is for witching


This little package arrived today. It's Nice That were running an offer to receive a pre-edited copy of Helen Oyeyemi's new novel 'White Is For Witching' in exchange for a small review on the back of a bookmark designed by Jon Klassen, an illustrator involved in the set design of the new film Coraline - which looks bloody awesome by the way. Tim Burton, take note. I adore Tim Burton but The Corpse Bride really was quite painful. Anyhow, the offer of a free book isn't one i'll ignore, got shelves to fill! So after i've finished with Jay McInerney's 'Bright Lights, Big City' i'll be moving onto this. Here's hoping it's as good as they say.



peter broderick - atlantic