Thursday, May 24, 2012

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Monster sketch #2

Another monster sketch. I'm in a bit of a monster phase at the moment. I used to LOVE drawing monsters as a kid. I've not changed much in that regard ! 

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Thing I drew - Logo #1

My neighbour asked if I'd knock up a logo for him - making the processing unit thingy on a cochlea implant look like a stylized kiwi. Here's what I came up with. Not amazing - but not back for a start

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Bye Matt.


So.

A friend of mine died a few days ago.

His name was Matt.

I met him while I was at university. I’m not entirely sure how he joined the circle of friends I was in then. It was via someone who wasn’t me. If I’m honest – and I suppose I should be – I have to say I didn’t particularly like him at first. Now – this was ultimately due to me rather than him. He kinda breezed into the group with what seemed like a pretty effortless charm and confidence. The masses flocked to him, and I – who had been, and still am, fairly socially awkward and self-conscious – was jealous.

There – I said it.

But, it was hard not to fall into the gravity well of his personality. He was, as I said, charming. And funny. And intelligent. In great abundance.

We were very different people. Back then especially - but I’ve grown up a little since. It was only as he was leaving the country that I really getting to like him.

Typical, huh ?

But over the years I got to see him now and again. He’d come back and we’d see him for an evening or two. On one occasion Viv and I were in England and got to see him on his ‘home turf’. It was always good to see him and hear about his exploits.

When my boys were born we sent them really thoughtful gifts. Angelo got a little plush robot and soft toy rabbit. Lorenzo got a really neat soft toy tiger. While Lorenzo is still too young to really appreciate the tiger ( or any toy really – his favourite toy at the moment is a cooling rack for baking ), Angelo came to LOVE the rabbit. It’s one of his three special bed-time toys, and he always has to have the bunny when he goes to sleep.

I was thinking just last week how I should send Matt a message through FaceBook and tell him how much Angelo loves the rabbit.

On Friday I came home, and Viv told me that Matt had died.

It shook me up – I can tell you. He was older than me – but not that much older.

It’s been playing on my mind these last few days.

If there’s something good I pull out of this terrible, sad, unfair thing, then I guess it’s this.

Don’t wait.

Okay – so it’s clich├ęd. But it’s so, so true. Don’t wait. Do the things now. Before doors close and they’re lost to you forever.

I should have messaged Matt last week when I thought of telling him about Angelo’s rabbit. He would have liked to know that. I should have told him. Why didn’t I ?

I thought there would be time. Why wouldn’t I ? It wasn’t like Matt was old or sick. I had all the time in the world to tell him how much my son loved the gift he’d been given.

Only I didn’t have time. Time ran out on Friday. And now I’ll never be able to tell him and he’ll never know. And that saddens me on a profound level. Not being able to tell him that small thing.

We never know when our number is up. Do the things.

So.

Goodbye Matt. I’m glad you got to meet Angelo that New Year’s Eve in 2010. I wish you could have met Lorenzo. 

Thank you for the gifts you got my boys. Angelo really loves that little blue bunny you got him. It’s one of his special bed-time toys – he’s got to have it with him every night. There have been some nights where Dada has had to launch special search parties to find and retrieve him before going to bed can happen. I’m sure Lorenzo will come to love his tiger just as much.

I’m sorry I was a bit of a jerk in those early days. It wasn’t you. It was me.

I’m sorry I never did you the painting I always promised I would.

I’m sorry you didn’t get more time.

I’ll always remember roleplaying with you at university, and that time at my 21st where the glass of water you gave me turned out to actually be vodka – with suitably hilarious results. And walking around London with you, telling me about the history of the Michelin man. And all the other memories I have – that are still far too few.

You were a good guy Matt. I still can’t believe you’re gone.

I’ll miss you. 

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Sketch - Monster

Here is a monster sketch I did last night while watching ( sort-of ) the Muppet Movie ( old one ).

I was using monster aspects generated from 'Freak Engine'.

Monday, May 07, 2012

Thing I Wrote - 'System - 3rd Start'

I was poking around in the 'Creative' folder on my computer again, and found this. Again - in lieu of any thing else to share with you I thought I'd post it.

I do vaguely remember writing this. I had been wound up with the idea of a post-apocalyptic story - something which contrasted high and low technology. I was also obsessed with a city called Asylum, and a couple of character names - Paige and Lowe.

I had had an idea of ancient machines which were now millennia old, and had kinda lost their minds.

Anyway - I can't remember where exactly the story was going to head after this. I like some of the imagery here. There's probably something salvageable somewhere !



'System' ( 3rd start ) 


Lowe sat uncomfortably on a lump of fused, twisted steel on the edges of the Cathedral Plains, watching the Artists in their endless circle of creation and destruction. The plains were dangerous – but during the day most of the more lethal inhabitants of the rad-scapes kept to the shadows and the cool dark of the subterrainian ruins. He absently turned the key on his clockwork invenio, winding the fly-wheel. The semi-rhythmic clicks softly echoing from it’s brass housing were a mild comfort.

His attention is almost fully captivated by the Artists. He’d heard of them, naturally, back in Asylum. In his lessons, and from Scythmen and there stories of their time on border-culls. While he knew in his mind that the stories were true – he’d never quite been able to truly believe in them.

Until now.

They were remnants of the old world, from before the Resource Wars. Theories held that once they had been soldiers, considering the obvious power and strength they had at their command. Others asserted that they must have been miners, the beams of searing white light they used to melt the sand into glass must surely been able to slice and carve though rock. They definitely filled some purpose that required many limbs – but their arachnid bodies were reinforced with what appeared to be amour. Whatever their original purpose was, it was now lost in the eddies of time. No person knew how long they had been here in their hive collective. Possibly centuries. Probably longer.

Now they created massive sheets and sails of colored glass strung between the pitted skeleton of the Old World city. They webbed delicate ropes and braids of glass the thickness of a man in intricate loops and whorls, almost as if they were trying to pen amorous notes to the past in some long forgotten language. Sometimes two or more would collaborate in their fluid sculptures. They would fuse the sands, and work the molten goo with their extended fore claws and mandibles, then scuttle and scurry around the desolate boulevards and streets, up the exposed girders and devastated walls – tenderly pushing, molding, stretching and shaping the glass. At other times they would stand or hang inactive for days, watching the work of their robotic brethren. And at other times they would blunder around the domain in a kind of absent frenzy – reducing their labor and that of other members of the hive in flailing range to shards and splinters with their spindly limbs.

Some of the citizenry of Asylum had raised the idea of putting the Artists ‘out of their misery’ but their campaign hadn’t got far. System reminded them that, as old-tech constructs, they were virtually invulnerable to any kind of weaponry they had that was easily transportable to the Cathedral Plains. Also that the prospect of their photonic lances being turned on them would be an exquisitely painful ( if quick ) death. System was most insistent for the Artists being left alone. “They’re happy now. Far happier than they ever were before. Leave them be.”



That's where it finished. Hope you enjoyed it vaguely.