Aesops Fables - The Crow and the Pitcher

Here's the second in my series of Aesops Fables. Getting deep down and dirty with some serious cross hatching action.

Inked Art



Pencil Rough



The Crow and the Pitcher

A CROW perishing with thirst saw a pitcher, and hoping to find water, flew to it with delight. When he reached it, he discovered to his grief that it contained so little water that he could not possibly get at it. He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but all his efforts were in vain. At last he collected as many stones as he could carry and dropped them one by one with his beak into the pitcher, until he brought the water within his reach and thus saved his life.

MORAL - Necessity is the mother of invention.

Nina

Nina in all her glory.

Brrr - Last night was cold

In my sleep I dreamt that I was wearing a really rather spectacular, warm suit. Similar to MIG pilots outfits but about 12 times the thickness. This is what it looked like -

Go Faster! 60's punk rock

There's a new music night in town, and I liked the look of the chap on the flyer, so I've done my own version.



Here's some more about it -

GO FASTER is LIVE and streaming, thursdays 8-10pm GMT here

dj nights in Brighton:
1st Sat of the month at The Penthouse
2nd Friday of the month at Fitzherberts

And a myspace page here

And if you're truly bonkers, a Facebook group all about it here

An ancient Egyptian gentleman making bread.

This jovial chap is making bread in ancient Egypt. Pretty much all the items in the background are taken from reference photos from the British Museum so as to maintain authenticity. I'm not sure that they had orange chickens in ancient Egypt, so I'll have to do some research to verify that.


And as a special treat, here's the original line work to look at too.

Some new work

Back in the old days I used to hand colour everything. Then I learnt how to do things in Photoshop and neglected the traditional skills that I'd learnt, so recently I decided to kick start them back into action on a couple of new pieces. The first being a gift for a couple of friends who were getting married - I didn't want a computer print out to give them, rather a finished bit of artwork -



And secondly a farmer carrying a chicken which developed out of a scribble on a piece of paper on my desk and provided a perfect distraction to whatever it was I should have been doing instead -

Underground - Dance Troupe on Brighton Seafront

My friend Claire is in a dance company that did a performance of their latest piece "Underground" on Brighton seafront during the May festival. I thought I'd do a drawing of it the other day as it was quite an animated show, so I have, and here it is.

Flapjack Seagull

A work colleague once came back from his lunch break saying that he'd seen a seagull eat an entire flapjack the size of a brick in one gulp. I drew this diagram as testament to its tenacity, and have used it as my logo ever since!

View from my parents old house into the garden.

Sometimes I try doing a proper drawing. They're few and far between in occurrence, but fun to do. This is my parents garden after a rather mammoth growing session of all the plants.

Illustration Friday - Moon

There's this online drawing group thingy that happens once a week called Illustration Friday, where you get given a brief (usually of one word) and people all over the world do a drawing of it. Simple premise, rather like the Brighton Linesmen Society. I've only gotten around to joining in once, but it was splendid fun, and should I have a spare few minutes at the end of a week again, I'm sure i'll get involved once more. This was for a project called "Moon".

Brighton Pier

I've been trying to persuade myself to do a series of drawings based on the local area. So far this is all I've managed, but I quite like it.

Space Golf

I was rather bored one afternoon, so asked a friend what I should do with myself. He suggested drawing some spacemen and aliens playing golf. So I did.

Les Journey Magnifique!

Shawn "jumpers" "the Harg" Hargreaves was a programmer where I used to work. As he has a brain the size of a planet he soon got tired of working with people such as myself, who only have brain's the size of a continent or two, so he left and started work at Microsoft doing some geeky. This was a leaving card that I made him that was printed out to A1 size and now sits on a wall next to his cubicle or desk or central nervous system or whatever it is that's where he works.

CD cover - Compact Records

This was a proposal for an album cover for a psycadelic bleep bleep record label. In the end they weren't interested, which is a shame, as I thought it looked quite funky.

Short story - Requiem

This is a story I wrote and illustrated during a rather creative period circa 1999/2000 or thereabouts.


I'm not a Jackdaw, Raven or Rook
So have a quick check in your bird-spotting book
And if you're lucky it will show
I'm non of these - in fact I'm a crow


You'll often see me strutting around,
Happily pecking away at the ground.
In most every way I'm a regular Joe -
Apart from one thing I'd like you to know.


I've got a fear that's quite unfounded
I loathe the sky; I want to stay grounded
I know it's strange, it's even absurd
To be scared of heights, when you're a bird


when I was young and first started school
(back in the days when flared trousers were cool)
I'd pretend to be sick, (I used hundreds of lies)
And I'd sit on the ground while others took to the skies


I spent my time reading all sorts of books
About aeronautics and fly fishing hooks.
I passed my exams; did remarkably well
But the thought of heights made me feel unwell


When I turned 17, I decided to try
To forget my fear and learn how to fly.
Laid my cards on the table; said "Now is the time"
Found a tree and started to climb


I got to the top and looked over the edge
(I was maybe 6 foot above an old hedge)
My legs felt like jelly and my head felt weak
I opened my mouth, but couldn't speak


Stuck on the spot, I couldn't move;
But what the hey! I could only improve.
A moment or so later I felt my foot slip
And I fell off the side as I lost my grip


I finally managed to utter a sound
A gutteral "Uuurg" as I hit the ground.
I took account of myself as I lay on my back;
What went wrong? Ah yes; I forgot to flap.


Now every so often, when I have the time
I climb up a rock (if the weather is fine)
And try to conquere my fear, (I've not done it yet)
By jumping up and down till I break into a sweat.


And as I write this, I'm at the top of an oak
But I can't get down - sadly this isn't a joke
I know what you're thinking, I know, I know
I'm stuck in a tree and the wind's starting to blow


I can't help but notice storm clouds in the sky.
It's a times like these I wish I could fly.
One day, I'll be just like a normal crow
But not for a while, thanks to this damned vertigo

Flies!

These little fella's were drawn for an art exhibition in Brighton last year. Since then they've decorated my hallway rather handsomely. Keen eyed viewers will notice they're the same flies as the flies on my background image. Nice huh? Even keener eyed viewers will also note that each fly features in each picture as a progression. How exceedingly clever!

Short story - Will and Bert

Here's one from yesteryear. I wrote and illustrated "Will and Bert" in about 1999. It still remains one of my favourite stories.

In a goldfish bowl lived Will and Bert,
Sedate by nature but always alert,
Forever cruising around and around
With an eye to the air and a fin to the ground.


For every so often a cat named Kim
Would sidle a paw up close to the rim,
Tipping the bowl to make it spill
So she could "play" with Bert and Will.


But every time they'd see her coming;
Instead of bubbling, haa-ing and humming,
They'd get out the keys and undo the locks
And take out some costumes from their fancy-dress box.


Kim would peer deep in the dish
Searching all over for the two goldfish,
But in heavy disguise were Will and Bert -
Will in a kilt and Bert in a shirt.


Stepping back from the bowl, the puzzled Kim
Said "Those aren't the fish that are normally in,
I could play with these but I'll wait until
I get my chance with Bert and Will.


When Kim appeared, (every time),
The fish would play this pantomime.
And they'd both dress up, (that's Will and Bert),
Will in a moustache and Bert in a skirt.


As time went by, the determined Kim
Decided to enquire of the things within.
She futtered her eyelids (as if to flirt)
"Excuse me kind sirs, but where's Will and Bert?"


"You look tasty too" she said with a smirk;
Wills' reply to Kim was perfectly curt;
"Moggy my dearest, I konw it's your wish
But as you can see, we're cowboys, not fish".


"While your outfit's authentic", commented Kim,
"I can't help but notice your fishy gold skin;
And under your hat I can see a gill"
And so she took a swipe at Bert and Will.


The two fish darted behind some rocks,
Then moved fast for the fancy dress box.
Pondering the problem they found themselves in,
(Holed up in their bowl, escaping from Kim).


"I have the answer", all at once said Bert,
"Swallow some water; shoot it out like a spurt.
They surfaced and squirted the water at Kim,
Soaking her fur right through to the skin.


That proved to be a lesson for Kim,
Who quickly learnt that the fish always win.
Sitting out of range on the window sill
And watching the ever alert Bert and Will.

Gaudi in the Favellas

This drawing is from an interesting story I found on the BBC News website about a chap in Sao Paulo who's build a Gaudiesque house in the middle of the slums.

Aesops Fables - The old man and death

Trying to motivate a couple of friends to do some artwork, I've been setting some briefs. Aesop's always a winner and I thought I'd join in and give it a go too, here's "The Old Man and Death".

******************

An old labourer, bent double with age and toil, was gathering sticks in a forest. At last he grew so tired and hopeless that he threw down the bundle of sticks, and cried out: "I cannot bear this life any longer. Ah, I wish Death would only come and take me!

As he spoke, Death, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said to him: "What wouldst thou, Mortal? I heard thee call me."

"Please, sir," replied the woodcutter, "would you kindly help me to lift this faggot of sticks on to my shoulder?"

We would often be sorry if our wishes were gratified.