Prof…Mark 2.


I’ve been in ‘Professor Mode’ of late. Supply and demand, it would seem that clients seem to have the similar idea that a professor is the perfect symbol for their business. Professor H here was rejected but I liked him enough to colour him up in his wooly brown suit. Did doctors really ever wear those strange things that looked like a small TV satellite dish on their heads, or is it just one of those odd things lodged in my memory?

Proff Hutt winstone


Big plate, small food…

…and a hell of a lot of washing up.

I’m keen on cooking, and eating. This drawing was obviously about chefs or the like, but I cannot remember excactly. It covers a lot of things that I like and that I don’t. Cooking and the results thereof  I am fond of, clearing up not.

I had a girlfriend many years ago who offered to cook for myself and my then flatmates in London. We were delighted that she’d offered her services and the result cannot have been all bad, but the thing that all of us remembered, even years afterwards, was the mess she made. There was not a single kitchen utensil she had not used, it truly looked like we’d been burgled by a kitchen maniac.

Then there’s eating out. Big square plate and small food sniffs of what the TV pundits call ‘fine dining’. I like it but would generally like them to use more plate.

The professor…it’s most people’s idea of a scientist, perhaps.

I’m posting a cartoon a day but this is more of an illustration than a cartoon, I suppose.
There was a time when I thought of myself as an illustrator rather than a cartoonist but now I’m sure of my leanings.
I’m a cartoonist who wanders down the path of drawing every now and again, I’ll contrast this drawing with the next which will be a very rough sketch. When does it become a cartoon? I suppose the bench mark might be if it makes you smile or even better laugh, or in the case of the political stuff, to think. Hopefully all three in that sequence.

Incidentally if you want to be amused by just a few words take a look at this brilliant blog:

Makes me laugh every morning.

Don’t try this at home.

I love i.t.

I made a vow to myself, when I first took up with this new fangled computer stuff that I would not get frustrated by it. I’d seen others driven to distraction by the way it seems to do exactly the opposite of what you asked it. I became a bit of a geek and bought magazines that featured full colour photographs of computers with massive memories. I’ve recovered from that now, I’ve taken up bird watching.

Here’s today’s offering: done a while ago, one does not see many of those massive computer screen thingies these days except on old TV crime stories that are being re-run yet again.


Hiding In Shadows – The Way We Make A Broken Heart

Brilliant recording on here, and that guitarists hands would make him a good choice in goal for England.

The Immortal Jukebox

‘No adultery is bloodless’ (Natalia Ginzburg)

‘Adultery is in most cases a theft in the dark.’ (Stefan Zweig)

‘To borrow against the trust someone has placed in you costs nothing at first. You get away with it, you take a little more and a little more until there is nothing more to draw on. Oddly, your hands should be full with all that taking but when you open them there’s nothing there.’. (Jeanette Winterton)

‘There must be millions just like you and me, practiced in the art …’
(John Hiatt from, ‘The Way We Make A Broken Heart’)

The human heart is about the size of a large fist and usually weighs about 10 ounces. Throughout each twenty four hours of light, half-light, near dark and dark your heart will beat some 100,000 times and if you are lucky enough to live a long life it will beat on and…

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Okains Bay

This is my niece’s blog, she writes beautifully.

In the Land of the Long White Cloud

Type in the word ‘bach’ on Google in the northern hemisphere, and you’re most likely to get as your first result a Wikipedia article on the famous Baroque composer who fathered twenty children. Search for it on Google in the southern hemisphere, however, and you get something quite different (although good old Johann will still feature pretty high up). Pronounced ‘batch’ and also known as a ‘crib’, a bach is a small holiday home in New Zealand. The Kiwi Bear’s bach is in a place called Okains Bay, one of many bays nestled between the rocky and volcanic fingers of Banks Peninsula.   It is where we head to from the airport when we eventually land in Christchurch the morning after our pit stop in Auckland (and after my bag, ahem, arrives a day late from China.)

Christchurch is famously flat and gridlike, with four long, straight avenues at its…

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