Some days it seems that everything goes wrong.
Today has been one of those days.I find I’ve left a credit card at the supermarket and they destroy it, but credit to the bank ( credit to a bank!! ) they seemed to be on the ball. Then my trusty old mac, the one I work on, not the one used on rainy days, went decided to go to sleep…and then to switch off.The mac people who I found to look after it and bring it back to life seem to have taken my money for no repair yet and the chocolate biscuit i am eating looks as if it is about to invade my keyboardluhfqlkbiiqu;jfvskljbvsuih c19394 ruijvakjblq………………..things can get better.Nice biscuit.
Ask almost anyone from the design world or from the illustration world and they’ll hopefully tell you that ‘Kitchener’s 1st World War poster ‘ of the man himself pointing at you and saying ‘Your county Needs You!”is the ultimate cliche in the design world. It’s the idea that the bloke in account handling has ‘thought of’ and expects all the creative people to admire his or her clever thought. When you point out that its a call to arms for young men to go and sacrifice themselves for no good reason and that it might not be a good idea for anyone to be associated with it, the response is normally surprise or worse: ‘Well, I think it’s O.K.’ It’s not.
This drawing was done for a local recruitment company and the sentiment I have about it is from the heart.
This was one of a group of ideas for an article on how one might phrase a recruitment ad. This idea was not the favourite of those chosen, but I like it. This is the rough, but not a million miles from the finished article.
I sometimes prefer the rough drawings to the finished.
I’m a big fan of sheds and shedism ( that is the practice of shed ) One of my friends even wrote a book about it and its a gem, look out for Men and Sheds by Gordon Thorburn.He and I have also done a book together about Some Missing Persons, but that’s not about sheds. I could expand on this but I think Mr Thorburn’s book says it all.
It was some years ago and in Manchester where I was a student at the art college.
I had gone to bed and it must have been about 2 in the morning when I was awoken by the most enormous sound of the crashing metal, as a car outside came to a sticky end.It was one of those moments when you cannot remember jumping out of bed as it was done almost automatically.
Rushing to the front door my flatmate and I peered into the street to see the remains of the car just a few yards away.Small pieces of the vehicle were still rolling off it as we stared at the wreckage. It was followed by almost complete silence, save for the sound of steam coming from a fractured radiator.
Then a door opposite opened and a portly gentleman had come to the door encased in dressing gown tied firmly in place under the nipples.
People had gathered around the vehicle to help the unfortunate driver, there was low sound of concern and persons asking if an ambulance had been summoned, when portly neighbour boomed out ” KETTLE’S ON!”
My flatmate looked at me and we came to the conclusion that there was little we could do to help as all available help was at hand and that the unfortunate victim would soon be imbibing our neighbour’s tea and would be cured of any injuries sustained in the accident, plus any diseases that he had before.
One of those blokes with an irksome catchphrase that never was very funny and taken out of context was entirely illogical. People laughed, but then they do. Better to laugh than the alternative at least.