The Small World of Animation

I am at a lecture on the Politics and Aesthetics of Animation, Simulation and Rendering. My approach to note taking is to draw the speakers- mainly because much of the research is rather complex (ie going over my head). Sitting to my right a chap comments on the drawings and during the break asks me if I am doing research, I mention that I am interested in mark making and whether it can help embed memory when used as note taking. He tells me about a recent conversation he has had about a project in a similar field that might be of interest to me. I tell him I have a blog and he asks the name of it, when I tell him he looks a little taken aback and says "oh it was you I was discussing" the person he was talking to was a mutual acquaintance.  The small world of animation.....

Almost a mallard massacre in Fulham

Bishops Palace has a very nice cafe. The garden attracts a certain type of Fulham resident. People at the table I am sharing are planning for the mothers trip to New Zealand whilst two toddlers chase a couple of fat mallards with sticks. Mothers come racing in to prevent mallard massacre in full view of gathered disapproving locals.

Sleepers on the tube....

It is a Pavlov's dog type reaction. I see them - I draw, unable to resist the urge to bring out my sketchbook when I see someone asleep on the tube.  This set are the result of one round trip to the Ideal Home Show in Earls Court. Awful Awful event but very fruitful in terms of sleepers. The show's only point of interest was discovering the "Spiralizer" a device with the specific purpose of making courgette spaghetti.
The man reading the Times was like a character from a sitcom, the lady with glasses never stirred for a moment. The elderly woman sitting next to me had no reserve and stared intently at every mark laid down. "Very good" she commented when she got off the train at Earls Court. The bald man  was drawn very quickly as he woke and was aware of my stare. The lady in shades was deeply asleep, I glanced away for the briefest moment as the train pulled in to Stockwell, I looked back and she was gone.

Revision table

Exam time again, my kitchen table carries the stains of many generations of revision. The table was originally in Kings College, it was saved from being thrown out and in the years since has seen two dissertations, reading record books, exam preparations and many many years of homework.  As well as many dinners with friends and family ....it is also my cats bed.

The Masons

Having a few spare moments in Covent Garden while en route to The Courtauld Institute to deliver my last teaching session for the spring term. Its quite a sunny day and I am sitting on a rather over designed rubbish bin on a small traffic island. The Masonic Hall has long been a fascination of mine and I am often tempted to pop into their "shop". While drawing a taxi pulls up directly between me and the view and deposits a family of four; mother two children and grandmother. They sit down next to me on the over designed bin and I cannot help but tune in to their conversation. They are on a day out from Nottingham. After a while another taxi draws up and the dad appears, he works in London and is meeting his family for a holiday day out.

Unhealthy Obsession?

The sun is shining and as I head out with sketchbook and watercolours I find myself walking with purpose towards the Snackwagon. The location has slightly altered since my last visit, it is now back on the small road that runs through the common between The Avenue and the Windmill pub. It is a stop off for the local police, fishermen and taxi drivers. They gather at all times day and night to sample Tom and Terry's burgers and hot dogs with a cup of tea in a polystyrene cup. I think I am beginning to develop an unhealthy obsession with the Snackwagon.

Not Calm

I am trying to calm my nerves and distract myself from thinking about a forthcoming interview. Immersed in drawing these two guys which is not easy since the train fills up to a ridiculous level after London Bridge, apparently experiencing New Year levels  of unprecedented passenger confusion due to a new platform layout. Still I soldier on craning my neck around those standing in the aisles, determined to obscure my view. The train clears a little and the guys are still sitting there, I continue to draw. One of them gets up to leave the train at Moorgate......... and I notice I have missed my stop- I am not calm.