Friday, November 20, 2009

Illustration Friday - Music



Mixed media piece for Illustration Friday topic of 'music'. Pencil, conte, chalk, an A4 envelope and photoshop.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

More witches and pigs...


Having a rare night off... On the pig pic I made the front two trees birches which gained Clare's approval...might do more with these guys. The witch pic is an alternate of the Illustrapedia challenge. I thought the one I submitted blowed, with the main character looking like a viz reject and enough mistakes to fill a cruiser. I'm liking working on bristol board, although washes on large areas are still proving a problem. Skin tones pick up a lot better... the next one you're going to like..

Monday, August 24, 2009

Pigs


I've been struggling trying to find a decent paper for watercolour illustration. Generally, standard w.c. paper is fine for broad brush strokes and the grain of the paper works a treat in breaking up the black lines that traditionally outline the picture. My style has been changing gradually, and the drawings are becoming more complicated, so I had the notion of painting straight onto bristol board. The effect (As seen in the picture with white trees) leads to a much brighter picture, but it's a completely different discipline as the paper doesn't absorb the paint the same way. The first picture is my standard way of working, but is full of the same mistakes I normally make i.e. I over-work the sod.

These two pictures were painted simultaneously with the same palette to see the difference in tones. The original idea was to leave the trees blank to see what effect this would have. It works on the second pic but on the first it was too stark, so I painted in the trees (Overworking them, yadi yadi yah...) Clare hates the white trees pic and much prefers the other. Any opinions?

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Illustrapedia - August


This month's challenge for the Picture This losers... Space Aliens. Resisting the urge to do a child friendly version of John Hurt giving birth to Ridley's alien I settled on this. Having real trouble getting a decent scan of my watercolours. Anyone got any ideas on how to match the colours better?

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

God Baiting. Pt.3

Wake up. Emily is looking at me. She has matted hair and a big smile on her face. I have no recollection of bringing her into to bed, but apparently I did…at two thirty last night. Her apnoea monitor has pulled off and is alarming wildly. Clare looks shattered, so I take Emily down for breakfast. Pull the blinds, turn on the telly, and pretend to eat the toy chips that Emily has cooked for me. Forgot to do the coffee last night. Set up coffee machine. 'Daddy!'. Emily has put Mummy Rabbit in her toy cooker. Em's breakfast - Two fromage, five heaped spoons of Duocal and three of Procal. Water and Maxiduel in a cup. 'Daddy!'. Em wants hers picnic set. She is giving Emalina (Her doll) her breakfast. Mummy Rabbit is now cooked and I pretend to eat her while ignoring the metronome in my head. Coffee ready. Everything is brought to her little blue chair on the floor. We watch Peppa Pig and Balamory.

When Clare gets up we change Emily's trach. She winces when it's removed and under her neck is bright red. The scar from her operation is healing but still looks tender. A few minutes later she's doing her crazy walk and dance while C and I put away the tube change stuff. Walk to work after three coffees and goodbye hugs. The little graffiti prick has re-sprayed his tag over where they painted over his last vandalism. Wire on the mp3 - feel good. At the hill I realise I have sweat dripping down my neck.

Colin Newman playing on the train. I drift in an out of sleep…give up on Rules of Attraction. Too warm. Fall asleep. Headache worse.

Work is a blur. I have a notebook filled with thumbnail sketches to work on later. My memory has been bad of late. If I actively try and remember anything I am greeted with white static in my head…I wish I cared. Make small talk with the new girl. Her friend is prettier but I have nothing to say to her. Jon and I discuss 'The Road' and 'Illustrapedia'. There's been no comments since I won the July challenge. Watch the skateboard kids on Cadogan Street…man they suck.

It's night time. Emily has been sleeping for three hours and Clare has gone to bed. The metronome is louder so I silence it with a coke and then more wine. At eleven I start painting. It's a gamble painting in artificial light but I'm used to it. The masking fluid works a treat and my painting looks better than most published kids' books. At midnight I have another cigarette outside and am nearly hit by our bat. He circles back once more before deciding that I'm not supper. One o'clock and my eyes are burning. The metronome has escalated to a full scale migraine, so I give in and down two co-codomol with my flouxotine. I want to keep working but I have an early shift. I pack my things away and collapse on the sofa. Zone Horror…meh!; Zone Erotica…meh!; Dave…meh!, back to Zone Horror.

Two thirty and I bring Emily into our bed. I've been staring at the ceiling for an hour and hear her still hoarse voice calling 'daddy!' loudly. She sleeps almost horizontally and I lie on the edge of the bed. Clare's hand touches mine in the dark. The painkillers work and I fall asleep.

Wake up. Emily is looking at me. She has matted hair and a big smile on her face. I have no recollection of bringing her into to bed, but apparently I did…

Sunday, July 26, 2009

God Baiting Pt.2

Despite the best efforts of the backwards nurse whose voice echoes in decibles early Napalm Death, Emily has been sleeping soundly. She wakes up at three A.M. Our sentence has been extended by three days as she's developed an aversion to drinking. She's aspirating while she swallows. She chooses instead to suck water from a toothbrush - a habit I happily indulge. For thirty minutes. 'Sleep now'. Shakes head. 'Still thirsty?' Nods head. 'Want a drink from your cup?' Panics, shakes head. 'Well, it's late and you need your sleep. You can have more in the morning.' Cries, shakes head. 'Look, drinking from the cup is much quicker. Either have a drink from the cup or go to sleep.' Cries, rolls over in a huff...sits up...throws me a glance of malice...furiously signs cup... starts drinking...water spurts out of her tube but she keeps going...downs two hundred mls in about twenty seconds. She is coughing like mad but asks for more. Same again..., another cup gone...falls fast alseep straight after. We are released first thing in the morning when the doctor sees her.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

God Baiting

So I'm walking out for my seventeenth cigarette of the morning. I walk under the cancer ward and by the smokers that have decided to smoke by the air vents there. I walk past the mother, fag in one hand and baby in the other. She is barking at her son who is running up the slide. Everywhere I look I see men in long shorts and trainers. The accent starts to grate on me. The slang and the laziness of the pronunciation. I see the same faces walking back and forth. One guy - best summed up as a troll, has a stoop and a bottle of irn bru in his pocket. His son looks up adoringly. I befriend a lady called Wendy whos son has had to have heart surgery twice in two days. I last saw her standing outside intensive care. I come back into the ward and find that the obnoxious nurse I had a run in with has made Clare cry, in front of Emily. I try to reason in my head why a nurse would deny a child who'd had major surgery pain relief because she doesn't like the parents. Come back in five minutes - she's getting physio and every time she does she vomits. No point having paracetamol if you're going to puke it up. An hour later the fight started. I ponder red tape - and if it has a place in child care. The second fight was over a fold down bed and why Emily was not allowed to lie with her mother on it. I snap at everyone through sleep deprevation. I reason with Emily why she's going through so much pain and she understands. I read people's facebook updates when I get home. I wish I could relate. I wonder about Clare tonight and how she'll handle two hours sleep. I think about the stocking tops of the doctor in HDU. I curse noisy visitors and dream of isolation. I think about the rosary beads one of Clare's clients gave her, and how they glow in the dark.