Superhero

I was having this conversation the ither day wi' my wee pal, Harry, sayin' just how much he needed to build himself up to take over the mantle of "West of Scotland Superhero of the 21st Century" from his ole' grand-pappy whenever I decide to hang up my skin-tights and cape. He listened attently and smiled (our very first that didn't include thrashing his legs around and strange lower abdominal noises) and a knowing look which said "you are the best, Big David" which is interesting in itself for that's whit my own son, Gavin, used to call me. Isn't ancestry a fascinating subject, I hear you say.
Or is that just the wine talking?

Anyway, here he is "working out" in his own little gym determined to make the grade before he is even two months old:


Which is a round-about way of telling you that I have got absolutely nothing more interesting to blether on about other than my two latest postings on two of my ither blogs: "Saturn" on my Semi-Abstract haverings, and my very last and final contribution to the Moleskine Exchange International, "Genesis".

Hope you all have a good wekend, and if I survive my second Bluegrass Jamming Session at Lauries Bar tomorrow I'll be back again next week bright eyed and bushy tailed to tell the tale.

With Outstretched Arms

I'm posting this favourite image of mine simply because I refer to it in my latest posting about "Apollo, the sun god", in my ither blog "Semi-Abstract Figure Painting"

Astonishingly I have never ever punted this painting onto the internet before, which is a mystery to me since I'm not usually slow at coming forward!

I have used this image for my business card and also for my avatar image on Flickr as it embodies that most expressive attribute of mine: wild exaggeration!

Well, wouldn't you also become larger than life and extend your arms to greet your paramour?

Big Hair

Still on a train theme I was treated yesterday to a fascinating show of female glamour and the whole gamut of it's application while returning home from Glasgow.

This young woman facing me futher down the carriage was carrying out some running repairs - blusher, eyelashes, lipstick, and the piece-de-resistance, back-combing her already wild hairstyle:


Pencil in scetchbook, A6.

Some poor boy ain't gonna stand a chance!

London to Glasgow

Following on from my previous post about train journeys, and also returning to basics, I made some efforts this week to get moving again by turning, as always, to my sketchbooks. These are looking back to last year when I travelled all the way to London (4-and-a-half hours on a slow train going and 4 hours on a fast, tilting, train on the way back) just to see one painting by Mark Rothko. Can't say I'm not dedicated to art.
Or daft.
One or the other.

Anyways, on the way back, since I was otherwise bored with the murder and mayhem in my Michael Connolly thriller, I chose to pass the time capturing the passing landscape in the blink of an eye:


#1. Ball-point pen in sketchpad, A6.

Translating these few marks into a small painting:


1#. Acrylics on paper, A4.


#2. Ball-point pen in sketchpad, A6.


2#. Acrylics on paper, A4.

Then, getting bored with Nature, I turn my attention to the young woman who joined us at Crewe:


#3. Ball-point pen in sketchpad, A6.


3#. Acrylics on paper, A4.

At least I found my paint-brush.

Next time I may even have found my colour paints.

See ya!

Raspberry

Encouraged by a recent blog-posting by Edgar on returning to basics as a way of dealing with life's traumas I am posting this set of sketches made yesterday, firstly while travelling by train into the big city, and secondly at a performance of "Raspberry" at the Tron Theatre. "Inspired by the life and songs of Ian Dury, Raspberry is a juicily gothic piece of music theatre that muses on the idea of perfection and perfectibility". The principal characters, some who are themselves disabled, play "crips" or as the Victorians would call them "cripples" - blind, spastic, and in a wheelchair. The blacksmith father, like some Frankenstein doctor, tries to make his crippled daughter "normal" by fitting metal plates to her legs on an anvil. Needless to say she wasn't really taken by his idea of normallity and just wanted to be herself!

But first, the journey into Glasgow.
A group of kids waiting at the station for a train:

Pencil in small sketchbook, A6.

On the train there was this teenage boy with excellent styled hair falling down to one side in a girlish way:

Pencil in small sketchbook, A6.

Waiting for the performance to start, two theatre goers:

Pencil in small sketchbook, A6.
Nice hair again (I notice these things :o)

Fittingly, this sketch was done "blind" when the lights went down and I could barely see the open sketchpad (at least I think the book was open):

Pencil in small sketchbook, A6.

Similarly this guy blowing his horn:

Pencil in small sketchbook, A6.
What a blast!