Born 7th October 1921. Died 27th February 2015.
Rest in Peace.
Thanks to all my family and friends for their love and support and
the staff at Gloucester Royal Hospital who cared for him so lovingly in his final hours.
I will not be blogging again for a few days,
after which the show will go on.
He’s here again but this time I’m really worried about him. He’s scanning a map and looks quite lost.I don’t think those people at the pizza place gave him anything for taking their sign back to them as he looks quite crustless. He needs help.
Sometimes with this drawing lark it goes well and other days one cannot get to grips with it at all, the danger between rough and final is hopefully illustrated here. I’m working on a series of cartoons that feature people where the name matches the job. Like a lot of so-called humorous ideas, one thinks of it and then reflects that it’s not so funny after all. Perhaps it’s not but the best humour is based on reality and in reality there are people with names that match their jobs. They don’t always know it themselves and have never really realised it until someone points it out to them, or they do realise that it is a little strange.
I used to know of a second-hand car salesman who’s name was Nick King…nicking cars? I don’t think he ever recognised it as odd. Then there’s the other chap who was the tree officer for the local council : Timothy Bird. Timbered? I suppose if he was part-time he could be half timbered.
Yes, it is a thin idea stretched, but that’s what I like to do.
This rough is for someone called Courtney Fish. You might see where I’m coming from by now.Or not.
I used to read bedtime stories to my kids and if I got bored by the books would start to embellish the tales.This is an idea done some time ago, and probably when I was in ‘sales’.
One of my theories about children’s books is that the ones you really like ( the adults that is, not the kids, they can listen to almost anything ) are the ones where you are not tempted to embellish. Some of my own favourites were Janet and Allen Ahlberg’s books, and I loved ‘In the Night Kitchen ‘ by Maurice Sendak, I would not change a word of them. But Postman Pat was always ‘fair game’ to me. As I recall he ended up in one of my ’embellishments’ serving time in a maximum security prison after doing a bit of unofficial post office work on behalf of some disreputable chums who had a fondness for baseball bats and wore stockings on the wrong parts of their anatomy.
The kids loved it.