Some sketches and a bit of a doodle. I'm using my little Moleskine since I'm away from home a lot these days (and will now be away even more) and haven't got much drawing stuff with me. I should actually be thanking Stan rather than cursing him - the fuck - plus he's lost some really precious stuff and I've lost nothing much at all. And gained an interesting new smell. I feel like a bit of a heel leaving him alone in the stench, but by choosing to view the entire debacle as a modern morality fable about the ecological time-bomb our carrier-bag culture is creating, I can kind of nod and sigh in a slightly superior way.
Five-minute hand sketch, and a picture that looks almost, but not entirely, unlike Tilly. She's lying on the sofa. I say lying when what I really mean is a little-understood variant of the standard lie whereupon the reclining subject does not remain in the same position for more than eight seconds. For fuck's sake.
We had a bit of a row after that.
Then there's a proper portrait of Stan, who for the next few weeks will not be able to leave the house for fear of people asking him for his autograph in the street.
I've had some thoughts about this here blog. It was born under some particularly unpleasant circumstances, and I've kind of moved on a bit from where I was back then. It's got a bit melodramatic, quite frankly, and I fancy a bit of a change. More words maybe, since some of those lovely souls who take time to comment (and I'm looking mostly at you Selena), are encouraging me to post more, and maybe a few more of the pics that wouldn't normally make the cut. A slightly higher turd-to-triumph ratio.
Anyway, more details to follow. I hope you like the pics.