Rambunctious: never used the word before, never knew what it meant, opened the dictionary, closed the dictionary, forgot whether it was an adjective, discovered it was an adjective then ceased to remember the meaning of the word, so I opened the synonym finder, then closed the synonym finder, thought for a bit, wrote down the word but clueless how to spell it, so I looked out the window to see if it was snowing, there was no snow, searched for the moon but I couldn't find it. Typed the word up on my image (in Photoshop), saved the image, uploaded the image onto blogger. Sat back, took pride, then discovered the typo. Abandoned the project.
Hmm, Mrs Larmour's becoming rather inflatable at the moment. A little consistency in the drawing is desirable, especially when handling such a voluptuous creature. Spent all day trying to draw her. Am currently abroad at the moment so I blame the weather, mosquitos and um, my fear of the unfamiliar (including compters and Swiss German interfacing). Life is like bobbing on water, one never knows where one is going to end up. A rudder would come in handy.
Brian Smock, retired accountant and alcholic poet, falls in love with his next door neighbour Mrs Larmour. He's spent all night waiting for his lover to show up. Saddly, she fails to materialise. Enjoy. Ta ta
A stomachful of home-truths can be a heavy burden, best lace it with positive messaging.
I enjoyed drawing this fellow, he's on the cusp of thickening middle age. I used a Rotring pen for this sketch; it's a bit like drawing in a straight-jacket (as far as I'm concerned).
I found it tricky drawing Churchill. Drawing likenesses isn't my bag, but what the hell, I did it anyway 'coz it's a good challenge for me and I need stretching. However, on a personal note, it does carry a great risk, namely in the form of having one's lights punched out if the subject dislikes my work.
The last time I sketched a real live human being was at a London comedy club in Soho a couple of years ago. A comedian came over to see the sketch I'd drawn of him. Reluctantly, I turned back the pages of my sketchbook mumbling get-out clauses (which stank of excuses) such as: 'it's only a rough' or 'I never went to art school' or 'my arm hurts' etc...Anyway, this bloke grabbed my sketchbook, studied the artwork for a bit, then threw it on the floor: 'That's crap, it don't look like me, you're really f*cking sh*t at drawing'. He was about to punch me in the face, so I ducked.
Apologies over my absence. My head is full of botany at present.
Here is a drawing of a diseased rose. Some organisms do not thrive on neglect.
Let that be a lesson to you on this day of global loving.
Feel the love babes.