My Illustrative Life

It’s a day full of things, isn’t it?

I’ll do them in this order.

First of all, my Hankshirt arrived this morning!

And it is a very pretty colour, actually. Like egg yolk, or those white and orange daffodils.

Do you know who Hank Green is? Well if you don’t, I will tell you: he is half of the Vlogbrothers, who are two brothers who started keeping up with each other in video blog form a few years ago, and kind of caught on. Basically they are nice people who do nice things, and their fans (”nerdfighters”) are nice people who help them do nice things. Oh, just go and watch them, there’s more to it than that.

Anyway, the Hankshirt was created for his 30th birthday earlier this month and proceeds went half to giving him presents an half to plating Rainforest. The Hankplants are plants planted in honour of Hank (see video below). Honestly it does feel a little weird having a shirt and some plants all about some real live guy I don’t even know, but it’s an odd mixture of “nothing personal”, and something personal.

But I didn’t wear it. Because you see, today is also a protest day for Take Back Parliament. Which called for purple to be worn. And you know, why refuse when asked?

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.

The twenty-fifth of May has quite the full schedule!

It’s time to Wear the Lilac, too. Which is an idea that I cannot consider at length without my eyes getting a little something in them. If you read Night Watch, the Discworld title I mean, this will mean something to you. Probably something that will squeeze your heart a bit (and something nicely relevant to a day also about political reform), but what it’s come to mean in.. the ballworld(ours)?.. is something else. Terry Pratchett has Alzheimer’s, and Wear the Lilac aims to raise money and visibility for research. DONATE if you can.

I know I’m not alone in considering the Watch books my favourites of the Discworld library. I have my problems with world and with the writing (I find that the women adhere too closely to a sensible/silly binary, f’rex) but even so - I love these books. They have seen me through long/boring/sad/sleepless hours. I so enjoy the ‘jaded mentor finds earnest and true vigorousness due to new charges and remembrance of the importance of The Job’ trope, and Vimes fulfills it perfectly and adds in a bit of that-could-be-my-brain-be-careful-but-be-proud. I owe Mr Pratchett’s mind. I’d appreciate you helping me try to pay it back a little. I haven’t donated yet because I literally can’t, but when I can? I will. Remind me, if you like.

And then on top of that it’s towel day. I’m not what I’d call a fan of the Hitchhiker’s Guide, to be honest - I can appreciate it, but it didn’t stir me like it does a lot of you (oh, and, the 2005 movie SUCKED) - but Dirk Gently’s adventures are my kind of fiction. So I’ve got my towel with me, too, and I’m not panicking even though that’s a lot of referencing to fit into one day, one outfit, one post.

Whew. One politics, one environmental and two britlit (hahaha I just thought of that portmanteau and it is SO OBNOXIOUS that I am going to use it) and slacktivisms. NERDFIGHTERS! DFTBA!

I want to buy stuff. But I have no paying job and therefore no money to buy stuff, so instead I guess I will just talk about stuff I want to buy.

If you want to employ me? PLEASE DO. Ask me to draw you a picture for money! I will!

Anyway: Summer lovin’. Summer lovin’ is a thing I do not tend to do; I don’t know how to dress for summer and that makes me cross. T-shirts tend to swamp me, vest tops make me paranoid about my boobs hanging out, most for-girls summer tops are either too staid or too scene or too girly. I bring it on myself, I know. I’m picky! Except for that if I did like them, then they still wouldn’t fit because I am short. Comfortable fit is important, in summer.

But I was having a think this weekend, about what I can/like to wear: sweaters, and what I don’t like to wear: cardigans, and how cardigans are actually summer sweaters. And I thought, well wearing a cardigan over a shirt may be the worst kind of frictionous restraint for me but wearing a cardigan AS a shirt might actually.. work.

So now I WANNA DO THAT.

Cardigans that button up all the way to the collar, not so much v-necks, so they lie like button-down shirts and any undone-ness or flesh airing is on my terms and on purpose. Cardigans that are tight enough to touch my skin everywhere, rather than wrapping vaguely or bagging.

Basically a bunch of punchy knit shirts, is what I want.

These are all from Laura Ashley. They had a pretty great deep purple, white polka-dot version last autumn and I passed it up because I hadn’t thought of undershirtless-wearing yet. Shucks!

Penelope Cruz up there is as her character Raimunda (good name!) in the film Volver - which I found interesting and in some ways inspiring, but would maybe not say that I ‘enjoyed’. She got to wear a lot of colour (and a lot of colours all at once) in that movie, though, which I like - and managed to work the badunkadunk and look overworked-sloppy despite the neat woolen pencil skirts (which I have!) and the whole cardigan-over-shirt thing. I could relate to the sulky refusals and grudges of her character, too. Not the specifics!

I’m not so sure I like the two green examples on the bottom right, actually; they’re a bit too fussy and studied. I want something I can bang around in and warp to my own image instead of live up to neatly - to me cardigans are conservative and sensible, which I am not and don’t aspire to be. But I think the spotty one or the printed ones or the checkered faux-faux-Chanel one down at the bottom could look awesome and crossoverish with the top and bottom buttons undone with a tan and icecream and frazzled-from-dampening hair on a sunny grassy afternoon.

Don’t you think?

I’ve been quiet this week (have you missed me dreadfully?). Not because I haven’t been writing or drawing or doing, but because I have been doing these things TOO MUCH I guess.

I’m still working on that post about posture, and the Clueless one, and the one about ‘discovering’ Patti Smith. And I’ve been drawing from life and from photographs and from imagination. I’m just about to start editing the short film my sister and I shot last week.

But I’ve also been JUST SO BUSY (for me). Job applications and CV reworking (constant) obviously, and Monday at British Waterways, but my CRB check came through so I’m doing two days a week as a Classroom assistant now too.

IT IS THE MOST TIRING THING IN THE WORLD

Primary School teachers have a job that asks unreasonable amounts of them. That is all I will say.

Mostly what I do is listen to kids read (4-9 years old) and help them do it better when they have trouble. It’s awesome. They call me Mizz Napier. When they’re already fluent I get them to read out loud and coach their vocal delivery. If I were getting paid, this would be very nearly the greatest job I could imagine.

Since I am not getting paid, I will say that I like it enough to bust out the bicycle in order to get to the darn place. Buses have done me wrong on four separate occasions, getting to and from the school, and my patience snapped. I needed to take control of my own destiny. It was time.. to ride!

I can’t actually remember the last time I rode a bike. I mean, I can remember that I had a bike.. probably into high school, I just remember that as a fact, not as an actual using-my-bike memory.

I practiced last night for ten minutes or so after dad and I pumped the types and adjusted the seat of my mum’s old wheels, and I’ve never used a skinny-wheel bike before. You know, the big thin wheels on “grown-up bikes”? The bike that I can’t remember my last uses of had big chunky thick wheels that only came up maybe two thirds of the way. That old bike, which was purple and excellent, also had a comfortable seat. Which is another difference between the two bikes I am talking about.

So anyway, I rode 4.3 miles to get to school today. It took me an hour and I had to stop three times so I didn’t pass out or throw up, because apparently not you can’t forget ‘how to ride a bike’ but you can forget how to sensibly ride a bike. Also, it was hot. When I arrived, I had to go and lie on the floor in the staff room. Everyone was very nice about it.

But the point is: I did it! I became one with the freshest of blogging hipster chix. Bike ridin’ gal. That’s me! No pictures.. yet.

At school, I dug the garden. Took out old sprouted brussels, took out stickyweed and dandelions and thistles and some leeks (which I ate for lunch), trimmed the grass, turned the soil. Then I spent the afternoon teaching nine year olds how to plant a plant (broad beans and sweet peas) in a garden.

I told you it was a great job.

The 4.3 miles home (I repeat because I am PROUD) took me half an hour and I had to stop ZERO times! Well, no, actually, one time. But that is because I forgot to hide my laces and they became caught in my gear chain. That doesn’t count!! Shut up!

I thought I should share a couple of things I learnt in case anyone else is foolish or pigheaded enough to go from no bike riding for many years, to much bike riding in one day:

• Take water.
• Can you see? Or if you are blind, can others see? You/they can? Then wear suncream.
• If your momentum can take you faster than comfortable, even peddling can, LET IT. Or you will die. A lot.
• Stop to rest before you are sure you need to stop to rest.

You’re welcome!

And that’s why I have been so quiet this week.

My hair actually looks really good today. You can’t tell here, but I think that it does.

Just got back from a flight and a bit of a stint as a Maypole. Chin chin!

Today has been bafflingly tiring. Took a bunch of pictures - or should I say, had a photoshoot? - at CorinaCorina (or Corina Corina) for my next BSB column. Taster!

After which, I spent an hour or two in the rain. But I did meet these fine gentlemen!

P.S. This guy appeared on the c4 Alternative Election Broadcast. I dubbed him “Jim Cary Elwes”. You see it, right? Right.

Woo woo, voting day!

All the men (there were no ladies) doing Official Duties at the polling station were wearing red, which made me wonder. But not judge!

Today has been pretty good all in all actually, apart from the nightmare I woke up from. It was about goats. They were eating EVERYTHING. They ate John Green’s head and his body just remained upright. There was soil instead of blood! The goats could jump really high, and climb, and.. blaugh!

On the subject of the illustrated photo above, I have always liked the Romulans. They have hair like mine, and they get mad easily. On the other hand, I like the Vulcans because they have hair like mine, and they like to overanalyse. The Romulan military, though, gets to wear stuff like this:

Pretty fantastic. Quilted fabric giving flexible structure - the extreme boxiness vs the padded stitched pliable material. The Romulan penchant for extreme views on right and wrong and passion, and their weakness that comes from their hotheadedness and the pliability that comes from living only on emotions.

The other way in which today is pleasing: COMICS! Delivery of a package spanning.. what, nearly half a year?.. from my old local comic shop - The first three issues of Joe the Barbarian, all four issues of X-Men Noir v.2, issues two and four of Beasts of Burden, my missing issue of Captain Britain and MI:13! And the Punisher issue featuring Morbius and Werewolf by Night! Score!

And because the shop owner is a) super nice and b) apparently a good businessman, four books from Free Comic Book Day last Saturday!

And the cherry on the sundae, this gift for my beloved:

Yeahhh.

Expect semi-reviewing soon, readers!

Silly Eric, there is nothing wrong with arboretums! In fact, they’re pretty darned excellent. Learn with me:

Want moar? Try HERE!

Coming this week: the resumption of Makeover Movie Madness! PLUS: the illustratorclaire MANIFESTO. Look forward.

Simple showing off -

My honey bought me a housedress (etsy!) for my birthday; it is the greatest housedress about. It is VELVET and has POCKETS and NMMMMH!

It is some gear gear, right? RIGHT.

We are a fine, 90s X-Men-reading pair!

Peace out, amigos.

I’m a little bit of a bigger girl but no taller - I’m a brand new twenny-three year old young lady! Woo-woo!

I celebrated by visiting Coventry Cathedral’s showing of the John and Yoko give peace a chance exhibition - a number of previously unseen photos of the bed-in. It was pretty excellent. There was no photography allowed and I don;t think they’re online, so I’m gonna have to draw a number of the pictures to my best recollection so as to give y’all an idea of it. It was really nice though, and if you get a chance you should definitely go.

Then we came home, and my beloved and I cooked an excellent (no really) roast duck dinner. A GOOD FINE DAY.

Please enjoy my present to myself; Last year (or 2008?)’s Jane Marple dans le salon Metallic Lace. I do so like a pink skirt.

HEY KIDS! Wanna be like me? Only richer? And more overtly influenced by Jem? El Delgado Buil x Kipling have made it possible!

It’s my groovy honour, kats and kids, to present to you the swingen’est togs I’m digging on NASTY GAL (click the pictures to visit the buy-pages) right now!

Why NASTY GAL? Because I got my medieval-pockets striped apron skirt from them, and I love it, so I feel a lingering interest in their stocks (I feel similarly loyal to Fanny and the Cave)

Why this kind of list post? Because I gotta keep my toes dipped in the blogging waters, and “look this stuff is mega jokes” posts are easy. Not much text! I need my brain-power for my next parting video and e-book? I’ve got four (four?) drawings in there, you DON’T want to miss it), so I’ve got to think up which great British icon I want to analyse and re-frame in the “fashions of today”. And it’s scheduled for my birthday, so I need it to be someone really aces!

I’ll put on my thinking cap, but you can maybe put on one of these fine items:

Ciao for now!

P.S. Don’t forget to check out my new post as resident Volunteer blogger over at Waterscape! I meant to include this video there, but it vanished I guess -

That’s a newt, that we found in the kitchen.

So I GOT THESE NEW SHOOS.

They go with any tight(s),

And they make me feel POWERFUL,

Like I could fight!

They make me throw over my Fitflop slippers (and you know, I think they do work like they say they do)..

They make EVERYONE excited!

Even gents with shirts that excel.

I h’ain’t bought nor worn summer shoes for about ten years. It’s so hard to find ones that fit my exacting criteria: no open toes. No heels. No need to crunch my feet up to keep them on. This describes NO SHOES I HAVE EVER SEEN. Until these!

Ms Westwood, you see my dreams and you make them real.

And they smell like the Troll doll shop my dad used to take me to as a treat. A small shop in the indier section of the shopping center, with walls just lined with trolls. All sizes! All colours! All gimmicks! I adored Trolls, despite the fact that they were REALLY uncomfortable to cuddle. I got one near-on a foot high for.. my sixth birthday? Her name was Kylie. She had green hair. She smelt delicious!

A nice thing about blog-reading is that you come across people who are really doing stuff. People who, no matter how long and hard they may have worked behind the entries, have an air about their writing that suggests that one day they just decided “I think I’ll make a shoe” or “I think I’ll move to a new country and handcraft leatherwear” or “I think I shall sail around the world, by myself”, and then they did. When my dad says to me “You could carve that piece of stone I have outside” on a day when I have nothing planned, having read those people Doing Stuff helps to mean that I think “well yes, of course I could”. And then, I do.

No better pictures than the above yet, I’m afraid, but I don’t reckon I did so bad for a first try. Relief more than sculpture, but I’ll build up. I did both sides, and I only hit myself a couple of times. It was good learning!

Hallo.

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

Unrelated: How good would a Vanessa Paradis / Kana duet/battle album be??

…Odd angle..

The crocii (crocuses?) are pretty today:

This is so cute!

Bonus: An Impression - The Miracle of Birth!

Been cleaning the house all day.. finally relaxing with Wayne’s World 2. One of the best films, this is. Y-M-C-A!

P.S. JOIN THE GREETINGS REVOLUTION

Oh I forgot! The best thing about these massive medieval pockets! They make it so easy to reach snax!

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.

BONUS: Me totally failing to replicate the awesome height achieved by my first run-up, which my fool sister MISSED CURSE HER.

And with that, I’ll go back where I came from.