MY FOX TROTS

There's a three legged fox who regularly curls up in my front garden to sleep off the meal he's just opened my bins to get. I don't mind the mess he makes too much though as I think he's quite sweet unlike the cats that do much the same thing.

The cats that visit are double hard. They put the frighteners up my fox and me and sometimes chase us off. My fox though, since he's missing a leg, doesn't run very fast. Also, because of his missing leg he veers to the left until he turns a large circle and starts running back the way he came which is unfortunate as the cats usually wait on his return.

The drawing of the fox above is taken from my sketchbook but it isn't my fox (count the legs).

Actually, writing this post reminds me of a teacher I used to have at school (Chatham Grammar School for Boys, fact fans) who only had one leg himself. He had a wooden one but died of Dutch Elm Disease at the tender age of 82.

THE LOOK OF LOATHE IS IN HER EYES...

...a look her scowl can't disguise. I'm pretty sure when this woman was younger she'd cry for a happy ending but those days are far behind her and now I just think she longs for any sort of ending at all.

I saw her a few years ago waiting for a train and the daft old romantic in me hoped the train would take her to some place where she'd be happy and loved. But those daft old romantic days are far behind me and now I just think she'd be a misery wherever she went.

It ain't natural to be so joyless and jaded and alone and deflated, I wanted to hug her myself but frankly she scared me. She radiated a dark, brooding terror and pigeons fell dead from the sky when she stared at them.

I wonder where she is now.

Ooooo(shivers), no I don't.

BEAUTY AND THE BEASTS original b/w sketch

I know what you're wondering. You're wondering how much more I can ring out of the Beauty and the Beasts post I put up on 2nd May and referred back to again on 12th May.

You're wondering how someone so seemingly fluid in thought has the nerve to waste your time by chopping on about monsters again.

You're wondering how someone so seemingly infallible is so frightened of the opening 10 minutes of Carry on Screaming he can't bear to watch it. You're wondering how someone so seemingly flawless is even more terrified of balloons than he is of the aforementioned film. You're wondering what any of this has to do with anything.

I'll explain.

Because as the night and the moon and the stars give up their space for day, I stop in silence to watch the fishing boat pull slow across the sea. And old, half forgotten and half drowned dreams resurface, tugging my memory, begging for life and I'm dazzled by the speed and strength of their recovery. I'm haunted by her face and words I never got to whisper but now I realise the clouds are getting dark and the chill is getting crisper. All the while I stand on the bay in the rain, restlessly waiting for the boat to sail again. One persistent thought bobs up once more and carries through my mind as driftwood carries to the shore: wouldn't it be quite good if a big sea monster ate all them boats up?

There, much clearer isn't it?

So that children, is why monsters are so good. I look at my own personal demons, balloons and the opening 10 minutes of that film and I wouldn't be without those fears, not for a minute. Actually thinking about it, of course I'd prefer to live without them, who wants to be terrified of telly and parties? It's stupid.

BEAUTY AND THE BEASTS sketchbook rough

This is the rough of the Beauty and the Beasts post I put up on 2nd May which I did in my A5 sketchbook. After I'd done the initial rough, I decided bits and pieces needed changing or improving and with this in mind I did corrections on a separate piece of paper and stuck them over the parts I wasn't so keen on.

I also added extra little details to make the composition more interesting and fill the space better. Once I started on the final drawing I continued to add further details to improve the illustration.

A HOPPY ENDING

Remember Fluffy from a few posts ago, trapped in the woods and surrounded by monsters?

Remember I said he was doomed?

Well I was wrong- he lives to hop another day, kids.

CHARLOTTE DEWAR AND THE REVOLVERTRON

Think where man's glory most begins and ends
And say my glory was I had such friends.

WB YEATS (1865-1939)

I was at Camberwell College of Art in the mid-90's with some talented people but none more brilliant than my friend Charlotte Dewar (nee Mallaby). We designed and made this stunning little piece of crap one afternoon for fun and it only took about four or five minutes. Possibly twenty. Certainly no longer than the whole afternoon.

Charlotte helped me find my inner sisu and was responsible for making me blow more bogey bubbles per minute than anyone else from '93-'95. I always smile when I think about the stupid, jerky motion the bulb made when it rotated although I'm not sure what its function was other than to make us laugh.

Now The Revolvertron is safely stored in some box in some loft somewhere waiting patiently to be rediscovered.

Lovely and completely off her chump, Charlotte deservedly left college with a 1st Class Honours Degree and is now the Creative Director at People Brands.

I did considerably worse at college although I reckon I might of made it big in the sciences were I not an illustrator. Erm, probably would have designed rockets or something.

I THOUGHT I SEWER MONSTER IN THERE!

Apologies about the title, my friends. More children in mortal peril here but this time they're in the sewers which, as everyone knows, is a favourite stomping ground for monsters. I don't know why the children would be in the sewage system in the first place and I expect they'll be in for a telling off if they make it back home.

I love drawing monsters and I think I might do some more...

Further drawings can be found via my other blog here, or you visit my website.

FROM LOCH NESS TO THE AMAZON VIA THE No. 36 BUS

What freak of nature wouldn't want there to be monsters lurking in some forgotten corner of the world? I long for there to be monsters and I know I'm not alone. There are people who set up camp on the shores of Loch Ness hoping to cop a brief glimpse of something wonderful.

And when I was a boy there was a local bus driver who spent 6 months of every year driving the no. 36 on its route, saving up his wages and spending the other six months of the year exploring the Amazon hunting for dinosaurs. I don't know if he ever had any luck but I do know that one year he never returned. I like to think he was eaten.

But as much as I hanker after monsters I wouldn't want to be eaten by them and I fear for the children in the picture above. Hopefully they'll escape but I'm pretty sure Fluffy's doomed.