A little while ago, I asked for concrit on my narration of the first two pages of a ghost story by A.C. Benson. None of you gave me any, which is a grudge I shall naturally hold forever, but nevertheless I am giving you a SECOND CHANCE. Look pleased!
Here’s a re-post of the first section. It’s audio only, but I know how to upload to youtube and so I will use that knowledge! Just keep it open in a tab at the back while you do something else, if you feel you may be bored by a lack of visuals.
And here is the newly uploaded, recorded today SECOND PART. Three whole pages this time, o yes I SPOIL you! Our Hero Paullinus has reached the point of no escape, though the really monstrous happening are yet to surface.
I really would like constructive criticism on my reading. I will even help you; upon listening in order to edit I have noticed that I need to:
speak less portentously
make more differentiation between voices, or voices and narration
need to slow the heck down sometimes
for example! What else? Please tell me! I will say, “thank you”.
It may be spring, officially (or it may not? I’m not actually sure), but that does not mean it’s warm and balmy. No, I still need a double-layered underskirt and wool shorts to keep me comfortably warm. And a fine-knit woolen sweater.
I was going to hang around in the garden and draw flowers and bits of wood and such, because illustrating backgrounds (or; anything that isn’t people) is something that I don’t much do. Because I don’t like to, and subsequently when I need to it doesn’t come out very well, which again - makes me like it less. NO NO SHAMEFUL LAZINESS. Draw from life, draw from life!
But! Like I said. Too cold for only one skirt means too cold for bare fingers, so alas I must stay indoors.
I use my house arrest to watch the latest Linkara review and do other kinds of study. Today, I swallow my mad pride and study Tove Jansson’s Moomin* expressions. They are so painfully good. I say “mad pride” because, in my arrogance, I hate to admit that people have skills and knowledge I do not! It is ridiculous!
And so, la! Theme work!
‘Ow do you like my new scarf-pin? “New”; I found it in one of my local-ish antiques centers. How truly antique is it? Who can say! I don’t much mind; it does the job I need it for, and looks like an anemone. It doesn’t have the middle-nub, but I figure everyone’s entitled to modesty. Anemones are my favourite. Plus, it makes me feel a little safer and more practical. You never know when you may need to pin something to something!
Wore it to make my fire, too.
*I know, I know - I had the Little My nightmares too. But that was the cartoon, not the gorgeous gorgeous books or comic strips, and in the books? Her character is wonderful. My very favourite. Referring to her as an “action girl”, which TVTropes does, is a massive injustice. And she doesn’t have THAT VOICE.
Coming later today or tomorrow: Makeover Movie Madness SPOILERS edition 2: Desperately Seeking Susan
Sweater: Jaeger (gift), Skirt: Modelle via NASTYGAL.com, Underskirt: Jane Marple dans le salon, Tights: H&M, Clogs: Fitflop, Scarf: Men’s dress silk via Save the Children, Pin: apparent antique
That’s the garlic. Isn’t it fine? It’s not done yet, as you can see, but when it is.. there will be a lot. And I shall use it ALL!
Irises and crosuses (crocii still sounds better) too, though they’re in or nearing their prime already:
I think this type of iris is so weird looking. Like alien mouths.
I don’t know the names of the individual types of crocus. But I know that they are ridiculously easy to grow; put them in the ground, forget about them, be pleasantly surprised by small flower-cups!
This was an interesting texture - a rose hip that’s shriveled on the plant.
I hope I never stop being amazed at the colours that can be found in wood. This is burburis, which is apparently a very defensive plant. It’s danger-yellow when grazed, I’m told it’s poisonous-bitter, and it’s extremely thorny. Extremely. Ouch.
I spent twelve til four building and tending a bonfire of all the scrubby old dead crud left over at the end of a garden’s winter. It was a job of heaving and smoked eyes, trampling and poking and blowing and propping and coaxing and HEAVING HARDER. Ivy and other scrub tangles as easily as hair if left to its own devices! But I had a big shiny fork to help me, which was nice.
I’ve got no flippin’ clue why or when this went so crap. It was fine and sharp when I finished editing it.. fantastic.
It was a little bit like I had slain a forest spirit-beast; the branches on top of the bonfire were antlers and the weeds were its flankshag. Not the kind of death that makes you a villain, though. The kind that forges respect between the two involved, and makes you responsible for that area of woodland for example.
Poloneck: second hand, Sweater: Baby, the Stars Shine Bright (second hand), Shorts: etsy, Bloomers: Blanc et Neige, Socks: The Pound Shop, Boots: Dr Martens
Clogs: Fitflops, Skirt: Modelle via NASTY GAL, Vest: QVEEN, T-shirt: hand-me-up from little sister (her torso is longer than mine..), Neck warmer: Japanese indie brand via Rinkya
Oh I forgot! The best thing about these massive medieval pockets! They make it so easy to reach snax!
My mum and sister had half-term last week, so we took an overnighter in Buxton. To walk in nature, and.. look at stuff. We stopped at Chatsworth House (because my sister is a big squealer for Pride and Prejudice), which as you can see above is quite delightful. This is the view from one side of the bridge:
One of several reasons I am proud to volunteer for BW: Waterways are wonderful. So pretty! I drew as much as my freezin’ fingers would let me.
There are links to more pictures (reference/stock) of these gorgeous landscapes in the righthand sidebar.
Also fascinating was the toilet paper, where we stayed. No really, take a gander!
You see??
Nice chairs, too. Evoke Union Jacks without being Union Jacks. An interesting choice, for a place where Mary Queen of Scots stayed pre-chop.
Lots of charming pokey shops, too; antiques and bookshops aplenty. A surprising amount of clothing, in the antiques emporiums in and around Buxton actually - maybe it’s a local thing, but ‘vintage’ seems to be creeping in all over where it was once disdained. I may be being overly romantic.
There was the most excellent bookshop. Second-hand, antique to current, FIVE FLOORS. It had free tea and coffee! That you could make for yourself! It was glorious, and I kick myself for not being in the right sort of mood to really appreciate it. Then again, I really can’t afford to be stocking up on old, old thick books with the sorts of covers that make you want to weep from the perfection of illustration.
Where was my mind? Photographic evidence:
The horrors (and adventures) of my youth.
Truth be told I came out with exactly what I did want - Teacher’s Pet by Caroline B. Cooney, a Point Horror (remember those?) that chilled me so royally that I refused to use the downstairs bathroom for years. I’ve been looking for it for months; I wanted to see if it still had the power.
In the story the heroine finds a rough workmans glove in the woods, which turns out to still have a hand in it. My dad keeps his work gloves in the downstairs loo. I was a nervous and imaginative child!
Yesterday my mum and my sister and I visited my Great Aunt, who lives a fair way away in (my ancestral) Coventry, and took her to Coombe Abbey. Coombe Abbey, if you haven’t been, is awesome.
I haven’t taken any pictures of one reason it was so awesome, because that is probably illegal - there were tons and tons of kids there. Loads. I know it’s half term and all, but it was a joy to see youngins running about yelling at ducks, enjoying forest pathways, climbing banks, shouting “I AM THE TALKING BUSH” and shaking branches from inside evergreens which branch from ground-level, walking dogs, and QUITE CLEARLY being on dates. Too cute. If you are ever thinking, “oh alas children do not like nature any more, only wii, how sad!”, you should go to Coombe Abbey (at half term).
It has buildings, and grounds (lots), and just about every type of country landscape you could ask for. There’s a pond at the front of (what I think is) the hotel that has a sort of aqueduct non-bridge pathway across it; on one side it’s nature free and wobbly and undergrowth, on the other it’s nurture - angular and groomed, statues in the water, box-shaped box hedges.
There are paths to follow in various directions, which managed to turn me completely around and take me by surprise. I thought I’d reached a new building, but it was the one we started at. Cunning! The whole place has a sense of mystery though, the way it’s lain out - there’s always something just visible through or past or behind what you’re looking at.
The grounds were really, really pretty. These don’t do them justice because I am not a good photographer (and the camera I was borrowing is kind of weird and colour-bleaching/non-focusable).
Coombe Abbey also contains the spookiest tree-bourne sculpture I have ever seen. The black dog in this picture was being called forcefully by its owners, but I was willing it to stay in the frame long enough for the darn picture to take..
Seriously, is that supposed to be.. what is that supposed to be??
What’s a day out without a fitting outfit? NOTHING, THAT is what!! In a moment of great serendipity, my super-fantastic dreamskirt from Modelle - via the NASTY GAL sale - arrived that morning..
I was sure I would be able to see my own foot through the trunk’s various holes if only I stretched far enough..
I couldn’t.
If you’ve been here before you know all this.. Anthony Peto hat, Coat from Camden, Undershirt from Laura Ashley via charity shop, burberry sweater from ebay (needs more darning), doc martin boots, belt from gran’s attic, pouches from various sources, scarf from accessorize, Jane Marple socks, skirt from modelle/nasty gal. The skirt is thin and intended/suitable for warmer months; the warmth level is padded by the velvet JMdls skirt I constantly wear underneath.
BONUS: Me totally failing to replicate the awesome height achieved by my first run-up, which my fool sister MISSED CURSE HER.
I don’t always illustrate my face subject to the thoughts I had when I dressed for the day. Sometimes I do, but sometimes I just add what I think would look fitting based on the taken photograph, or to add a balancing agent to the mix (for example, if I look bodaciously Disney-buxom, I’ll probably add a manface). Sometimes I add a completely new element, to see how it changes the story of the clothing and my body language.
Today my creative process went like this:
“Haha, this outfit looks way sixties! A thinking socialite, like the ones from the movies, who took the Sound of Music straight to heart. Such things were nowhere near my mind when I put this stuff on! How interesting! I think I shall add a snooty model head, to complete the ensemble.”
“Hmmm. A lot of my thighs are visible here. How can I make a thigh look interesting? Well, much as I dislike him, Batman has made forearms look interesting.. how can I improve on that.. fins.. fins.. mermaids?.. fishpeople.. Gillman!”
“I can’t be doing with drawing ANOTHER set of thigh scales. The Creature’s only my second favourite type of classic movie-monster, anyway; I’ll show that Kate Beckinsdale what for. What a twit.”
I had a sort of a job interview thing, today. Does it count if it is for a volunteer position? One day a week YES I SAY THAT IT DOES. So I wore my “I’m not asking you to look at me but I am still myself” fallback combo; sweater, wool skirt, dark lace tights. I might still fit in at a WW2 french resistance reenactment, but I don’t look like someone one might be nervous of working with. Hopefully. Well even apparently, because I am now an Assistant Appreciator! Hurrah! I cannot get over that title.
When I bought it this jacket was clearly a fixer-upper. I’ve mentioned I think that it was a third off because two seams had already given - I decided it was worth it, because trading a heck of a lot of patching for the awful, awful, hair-ripping experience that I KNOW sewing this fabric from scratch would be.
But! There are already three more holes to plug! One in the left sleeve in the crook of my elbow, two on the left-back seam. I appreciate the opportunity to finally place the beautiful silky patches I traded with my Japanese peers when I was eleven (Arden ‘98 International Guide Campers, represent!) and like I said I was wearing no rosy lenses when I bought it but honestly, Topshop? Bad form.
Bonus images!!!! Me tipping organic kitchen waste onto our compost heap! Dropping two boxes all over my feet! Pretending a cat did it! Don’t read this, Dad!
P.S. detail from yesterday: I take a joy in buying expensive clothes at discount prices and then wearing them until they get crunky and bobbled and holey like REAL CLOTHES.
We were playing Dynasty Warriors. Hence eyebeam of CONCENTRATION!
Pattern-model style, Christmas day, exhibiting one of the presents my sister and I gave our immediate ancestors.
Boxing day, walking; I love the English countryside. I love it. Quotes from Guthrie in Bloomability by Sharon Creech, one of those books that I might describe as “almost perfect” and only almost because calling a thing perfect seems foolish. You should maybe read it, though, especially if you are feeling unhopeful or hopeful.
Post-walk, building a fire before watching Desperately Seeking Susan. Wearing gift-dress (H&M) and gift-tights. Thanks Mum! And gift-slippers, thanks Dad!
Being narrative and visuals-driven, I plot my clothing by fictional archetype. For work I’ve mentioned “60s professional lady” but for winter, and probably forever, it is Fairytale Murderess. It’s a little bit folksy and a little bit princessy, but grumpy and dark-toned and maybe slightly more practical.
Of course, today is also the 350 wardrobe challenge, and if there is one thing that a fairytale murderess wants to be, other than “not in jail”, it is warm. Don’t argue with me, I am in charge here.
So to stay temperate, over the normal underwear and under the outerwear goes this:
Sweaterdresses make really good mid-layers when it’s on the freezing side of cold; layer them with each other or with more rigid dresses like this one. Or just underneath a jumper and a skirt, who’ll know?
I was extra prepared, today, as one must be sometimes - three hats, for the small fluctuations that breezes or electric lights can effect:
Fur vs no-fur, for the different moralities in one’s life:
And for when it got REALLY nippy, my Dad’s boarding school dressing gown. It’s fully wool, so it itches like a bassard if there aren’t enough layers below. THANKFULLY, in this case there were!
And for inner warmth, ginger wine. Non-alcoholic, because when something is delicious I like to be able to have as much of it as I like, but I do not like to fall down and be sick.
Overdress: Jane Marple
Stockings: Pretty Polly
Boots: Dr Martens
Gloves: gift, Accesorize
Fur: jumblesale leftovers
Wendy House: made by my Dad when I was knee high to a grasshopper.
One more for luck? Why not. I’ve had a king, some wolves, a witch, a plotter, some waifs and a shifter, why not have an off with her head?
Yes, it is a work outfit. You can tell by the shoes.
Catching sight of this article whilst researching an upcoming post (no, really; just because I haven’t done what I’ve said I will yet doesn’t mean I won’t), “Boris rescued by feminists” I thought how absurd that sounds, as if we were some sort of species. Well, we aren’t, obviously.
I always thought those This is what a feminist looks like shirts were a bit ridiculous, but.. then again, I used to think that “feminism” was a bit ridiculous. How we grow!
Naturally, in the headline vein, my title is misleading. It is really only one door, repeated. And actually I only mimed knocking on it. But then AGAIN, I do fairly often knock on doors. So the title stands*.
*Not literally! In this case..
ETA: I just noticed that one might misunderstand my facial illustrations as a statement re: mentioned feminism. They aren’t, I just like to draw on my face for a) privacy and b) practice. I drew these two before I started thinking about what I would write today.
I kind of love working where I work. I sit in the common room/canteen and hear people talking about transgenics left and right. I.. had no idea that was an actual science word!
Of course, they are talking about plants and not children, but.. it is exciting enough for me.
IllustratorClaire: Twenty-two year old Illustrator and Englisher, female feminist, interested in being helpful and denouncing things that aren't. Designed and drew the Britsh Style Bloggers logo; available to hire on just about any illustration project. For portfolio, click the logo below!
I am not paid - in money or in gifts or favours - to endorse anything here. If I was, I would be bad at it, because lying is ugly.
If you've commented here and it isn't showing up, it's not because I hate you! It's because either wordpress or 1and1 hate me. Give me a shout on claire [at] illustratorclaire.co.uk, or claire [at] britishstylebloggers.org.uk!
Oh, and by the way - I do tend to post on Sundays, so if you find that day a little net-empty.. check back? Great idea!
