is that the sound of antonio banderas?

I suddenly hear the voice of Antonio Banderas and it strikes fear in my veins... and this image looks like one of those sad eyed cat pictures sold in furniture stores. But the real cat looks like this... I may need to retire for a massage and a stiff gin and overnight rest before looking at this again.
Hoarknockle likes it. Lady Sandra has not yet seen it in this most recent state.
What will the dogs think of me if they find out I have been drawing a sad eyed cat?

growing kitty

sometimes the work just seems to grow from its own volition. Its like catching a perfect wave and holding on as you surf it, unsure if you'll manage to ride it all the way. Occasionally a work does this and you are left slightly breathless by how it propels itself along and you only seem to be sitting by watching.
This cat drawing is going that way..... so far.
I have been putting down washes and working into them to model the forms and its been working well. Often even simple tasks will seem to be thwarted by inane little details and irritations, but on other days things seem to flow without impediment. This sounds so terribly Jedi.
I am having fun with this.
Hoarknockle has a TV interview with a local network this morning to cast some light on life on the estate and working for us. He has dutifully dusted off some inconsequential paintings he has done, hoping that they may ask him about them. I'll try not to interrupt the interview by calling for tea....athough, then again........

baked in a pie... er, box

The birds are all in...done, cooked.
I wish I could see this image from the outside... as a person who stumbles upon it without having made or thought about it.
I have contacted artist's representatives and over a long time have done so many times... and never had anyone show interest.
Is it too far off the main road...that well travelled path which feeds popular culture the pre-digested pulp they so desire. Fast food of the mind and soul, the crippling addiction to mediocrity.
OKay...what's next?
Lady Sandra took the yacht out to get the mail. Have I mentioned how much rain we have been getting? I do believe I have seen a submarine at the local airport.
Hoarknockle is getting moldy...either that, or he is wearing a green velvet suit.

tin bird too?

this image is begging for some kind of explanation...I think. I shall abstain from stating the obvious.
As the rains continue... or has it ceased? (it has!)
Farmers were exchanging their tractors for submarines.
I have continued my exploration of this flying creature in my picture as his kin tug fat earthworms from my sodden lawn. I think I was first drawn to draw them after seeing a pelican covered in iridescent black BP spilled Gulf oil. The poor bird so entirely coated in blackness was a powerful graphic image... unsettling and inky wet. Maybe it reminds me of Mickey Mouse's foe from many years ago...The Blot! (yes...a very long time ago)
This picture is possibly a rather surreal collection of ideas... but then I do wish to avoid the obvious and easily digested literal "smack you in the face with a baseball bat" kind of concept. Or so I hope.

tin bird

Legerdemain ... trickery!
Yes... its not a real bird. Hoarknockle was aghast!
The story of the grackles continues with this rusty impostor pretending to be a bird.
After the rain the handcrafted tin cutout just had to rust...even digitally.
At least the cool weather and moisture is good for the wines in my cellar.
Red wine is a fine antidote to the damp chill.

boxing

It keeps going. The rain confines me to my studio rather than getting outside and riding with the hounds on my bicycle.
Lady Sandra has been driving indoors lest her car gets rained upon.
The grackles are behaving in their boxes.

baked in a pie...

well...in this case put in boxes, not pies.
I have laid the base of boxes in this digital drawing and am adding the birds. Its part discovery process as I look at the birds on my lawn and see how they move and act, then try and find something about them that is interesting and use in each bird in its box.
Its like carrying memories of events of experiences or people in your mind, there often seems to be some illogical memory hidden amongst the categories of things... and I often wonder how this particular memory may have become lodged in a specific group of dissimilar recollections.
This is progress thus far. No birds were injured during the making of this image. Hoarknockle was subjected to repeated tea-making.
This image still has a way to go yet. I'm curious as to where it will go. Fingers crossed.

early birds

The rain had blackbirds hunting earthworms trying to escape the soggy soil and brought the proverb, "Early bird gets the worm", to mind. Followed quickly by "opening a can of worms".
The blackbirds have quite an ominous stalking stride and their graphic yellow eyes with black centers give them a very evil look as they poke around the lawn in search of worms. Like some avian opera without singing. Equally incomprehensible story line.
Possibly the best word to explain the feeling is ominous.
Either that or I would have to say they remind me of Hoarknockle skulking around the corridors with a hangover.
These are all going into boxes I have drawn. Lots of textural patina and atmospheric marks.
Lady Sandra has been baking peasant bread. There is a certain irony in this. The house smells delicious. I need to investigate.

just a house

just a house this time. A house from the past where memories were made.
No afterburners or the smell of jet fuel.
Its for a friend who will give it as a gift to the person who lived there for a long time. I wanted it to have a feel of something well worn and well known. There are a few birds and a squirrel near the tree. There is an old push lawnmower rusting quietly.
Nothing grandiose. A peaceful drawing.
I should ease up on the relaxing herbal tea and have an espresso. Maybe give Hoarknockle a whipping.

roaring afterburners

I am still shaking the noise out of my ears. I had the good fortune to be next to the runway at the Maple Flag exercise when a whole lot of machines leapt off the ground. Miraculous I tell you! This new flying machine invention will change things a lot.
I don't get out of my studio enough, that is evident.
It was quite a thing to watch F16 and F18 planes rocket off the runway of Cold Lake air base. The sheer intensity of the subsonic shock is exhilarating. Lady Sandra was on hand to hold my camera bag (occasionaly) and also to snap some photos with another camera. She was also one of three ladies there and drew enough attention to cause a pilot to wave at her while he was taking off! She is the type of beauty who would have been painted onto war planes as a pinup girl. She has decided that her life wont be perfect until she buys and flies her very own F18 Hornet. Seems I will need to sell a few paintings.
There were quite a few planes from distant lands as well as their crews. Interesting to see and experience. Apart from the jets, there were also some transport Hercules and Transalls from Germany, France and New Zealand.
I have been at work on a digital piece that shows most of the planes I saw on the day. Its a collage of sorts
with a drawing as main image.
I have yet to devise a way to show the roar of the engines. Meanwhile Hoarknockle has been tasked to make jet noises in the background to inspire me. (Just between us...he isnt really succeeding)
"Hoarknockle!"

caught in trap

The child portraits have been delivered. The parents like it. Nothing like painting a child portrait to bring out the utterly defenseless, insecure artist in erm...uh...Hoarknockle...yes..thats it...Hoarknockle! He was just so worried about the children looking perfectly as they should... I had to give him the afternoon off.
The idea of seeing children's faces on milk cartons is something distinctly unnerving. The thought that each photo is actually a person who is missing. Its so pathetic and desperate... the kind of situation one never believes yourself will ever have to face. It brings all kinds of horrors to mind. Lots of "what if?" questions.
When you read of dreadful persons keeping others captive in a dungeon or a cage... always makes me wonder about who might be in a situation like that right at this moment... one day we may see the story in a paper and try to recall what you were doing at that moment...and how horrid it must have been for the victim while we continued obliviously with our lives.
Milk cartons are so democratic. The lowest common denominator which we all seem to have in our homes. The milk carton is a symbol of the common place and the ordinary.
What if the concept was changed and what if...?
The longer I worked on this, the more creepy and disconcerting the wire cages around the corks became. The twisted, torqued wire suddenly had a whole new voice.
No wonder I had to give Hoarknockle the day off.
Now I'll have to go and mow the lawn myself. I often don't think things through so well.

...I think we've got it!

Sometimes the break through is small yet significant. A subtle movement around a corner gives sudden new perspective and then you see things anew.
After obsessing about aspects of the logo, I sort of lost sight of the goal and ended up trying to force the green marble background to work. Walking away from something is hard, especially when it has presented a challenge. But enough.
I went back to the brief and thought about the function of the logo within the thoughts set out by my client.
One has to think clearly and only focus on the nature of the piece.
This starting to sound terribly zen... maybe it is. Whatever it might seem, it has worked.
Maybe I should approach doing laundry in the same way.
There is beauty in purity.
Now most of the work is done and the client needs to ruminate over the suggestions and examples and make the call. Then the letterhead and other children of the logo icon can be brought forth....I see a procession and pageantry , banners and music... fanfare!
Hmmmm...what is in this tasty herbal tea that Hoarknockle makes?
Which reminds me......

logo developments

The logo continues and has had a few interesting iterations. My friend, the client, loves the lettertype and the design. I am happy!
Its been fun working with this logo/name. I have been tweaking it in al kinds of ways and making it do things for me. When it goes well, its exciting.
The green background in
this image is a photo I took of a bucket of waste paint that was being mixed together before being recycled. The colours and the swirls were enchanting and I took a photo. It rather looks like stone...onyx or green marble.
Back to work!

slimmed down

Throw out the clutter; I dont know what I was thinking. Was looking at the image for a while and decided to simplify it. Lower calories. Maybe it was the sound of "Biggest Loser" in the background. I think Hoarknockle was watching, he has a thing for tubbies.

dream dream

After some hard hatching, the image is developing some depth and then I may do some more.
Painter has so many little aspects one finds over time... well, I do. I keep finding things I didnt know were there and they make work easier. There certainly is something about developing an image and seeing it grow...you plunge into it and lose yourself at times.
Thankfully Hoarknockle has me attached to a safety harness and can pull me back if I go in too deep.
Its snowing today...light fluffy like meringue....hmmmmmm meringue.
Time for tea?

fading jangle

....and as the jingle jangle of the shopping mall music fades mercifully...
I'm here again, at my warm computer, a cooled teacup at my elbow. Hoarknockle is almost fully recovered from the abrasions sustained during the festive hurly burly.
Lady Sandra bought me a delightful Picasso, although I was hoping for a swath of Monet's Waterlilies. The only thing that prevented it was finding a large enough wall for it to hang on and her Ladyship was not going to allow me to move her collection of rare and unique snow shovels. Thus for now, the Waterlilies remain in Paris.
My wrestling contest with designer chairs continues.
So far so good. I may have to get into it with some more ink and pen and really give it some wellie. Not sure if anyone will comprehend the subtle humour of an ejector seat. Nonetheless.
Cross hatchings and more hatchings. Next is the completion of the tin chickiola. Both of these images have to be done by wednesday.

marcel duchamp in barcelona

Christmas was wonderful. Lady Sandra gave me an old pair of gutta percha waders which belonged to Winston Churchill. Cigar burns all over it. They smell like only old rubber objects can.Toasted it with Taittinger.
What happens when a genuine Barcelona chair daydreams? What would it dream of?
For now I have the chair done and the dream/thought bubble. The shape and design of the bubble should be recognisable to disciples of Dada as the shape found in Duchamp's "Bride stripped bare.." It has a beautiful colonic sausage irregularity which I found hard to resist.
The premise for this image is the preciousness of interior design objects and how they have become icons of taste and elegant living. As beautiful as they may be and as often as I have coveted these things, just so I have my doubts about their credibility due to overexposure and gaining de riguer status as emblems of success. No matter.
Thus we see a Barcelona chair sitting happily in a well appointed space, daydreaming of other objects much as a teenager would do. It makes me wonder what kind or erotic thoughts a chair would have and which images would be erotic to a chair. Obviously this kind of thinking is couched in ironic reference to well known symbols and their meaning.
I dont want to give away the punchlines to this image too soon.. and will show it as it goes along.
Its fun.

tinny revisited

The snow looks like a storm of polka dots or a flurry of halftone spots, badly arranged. Once they hit the ground, they lose their individuality and become a beautifully smooth homogenous blanket that hides the unsightly drab of bare trees and brown foliage. Footprints are healed and like sand in a desert, the breeze sculpts soft undulating curves... poetic.
Hoarknockle has been looking after me, adding restorative extract to my tea.
I have decided to revisit the tin girl and bring more to her and her situation. She seemed too alone and without any motivation. She has been haunting me for a while (ghosts of Christmas passed out?) and I had to come back and see if I could help to complete her. Sketch added to the original and more to follow.
I was wondering about this girl...
I think she is typical of a species of girl named after foreign hotels. Lacking in nothing except for insides and mind. How desperate must this not be? How utterly lonely and empty. What do wind-up toys dream of? Can tin girls remove their underwear?
Who winds them up when they are run down?

The polka dots are intensifying, there is a winter storm warning out. I smell mutton stew from the kitchen.
Here comes Hoarknockle with some more restorative extract.

ah!

This is the return of an old friend, my collection of eyes from some time ago.It has brought me some joy!
The most esteemed publication, Creative Quartely, has chosen to offer me a Merit Award in the field of Professional Illustration.
SooJin Buzelli just destroyed the field, winning almost every conceivable prize, I thoroughly agree, her work is wonderful. I'm just thrilled to be in the mix.
The work will all be published in the CQ Journal in April 2010. A nice birthday gift.
Hoarknockle is in the cellar finding a suitable wine to go with a Merit Award.
I am trying to fake understatement and a deadpan expression.
No time for a bed of laurels. Tempus fugit.
cheers!

flight of planes

After some time in process, the first 25 prints of the aeroplane arrived from Squareflo printing. What lovely prints they are. Done beautifully on watercolour paper.
A small issue was raised concerning copyright. Hmmmmm. Not something that fills me with unbounded joy, having to defend my right to make art of something in full view and of an object that my tax dollars fund. I guess they are just being careful about who and how imagery is used. But I do find dealing with burocracy tiresome. Even more so when it is something I know is within my rights and I dont need to defend it. The notion that I should be challenged on this is irritating. Raises blood pressure.
Anyhow, this is being processed at high level and I hope to get the green light (even though its my artistic right to make images!) to continue.
I have consulted with some established and renowned aviation artists on this issue and they have all chuckled at the challenge saying that this has been explored many times and the artist is within his rights doing just this. But it seems that the powers that be dont tire at this game. A game funded by tax dollars. Hmph!
Ah well.....
Lady Sandra has added another snow shovel to her fine collection and Hoarknockle is converting an old violin case to house her new high speed, low volume, front pathway shovel. We may have to add another storage room to the east wing of the manor.
Overnight temperature dropped to minus 26C and I am thankful that my wine collection is below ground in a thermally stable environment. I may go down and visit them in a while....just to chat and see how they are.
The wolf painting is being presented tonight at a dinner in honour of the recipients. I have wrapped it in purple velvet.
Lady Sandra has just called for me to attend tea in the drawing room.... I cant keep her waiting.