Queenie Sea Creature

Above: Queenie is my first wooden (deluxe!) version of my assembled creatures, as seen grouped on the studio wall below. Her body is a sea creature and her arm is a pair of pliers. The blue 'join' is actually a die (as in dice) on the reverse side. The Dear Brother cut out Queenie's parts for me, I sawed out slots in each one and then assembled them. Now I will count on his skill again to help me attach the whole thing to the stand (which I bought in Sydney last year at The Society Inc). My hand can't hold the thing forever.

Above: Queenie's back. I tried to make it look as though she was painted on found bits of wood. Actually she is just made from one big piece of fresh plywood from the nice man at the hardware shop in Victoria Street. A bad habit I have to get out of -- there is plenty of good 'old' wood around that I could use!

Above: at the studio, where part of her inspiration lives. Another part can be found here, in the cut-and-painted-wooden assemblages of the Swedish 'Pop' artist Öyvind Fahlström, who made entire games, walls and rooms of painted wood, metal and vinyl. I have been lucky enough to see some of his large assemblages at both the Pompidou in Paris and the Moderna Museet in Stockholm. Definitely worth seeking out.

Working 9 - 5: Another Babushka!

Above: yet another babushka, this time for a girls' t-shirt and a matching greetings card. For the t-shirt the babushka was printed onto cotton poplin, turned under neatly and then sewn onto the garment. (Some sequins were added to the flowers for a bit of babushka-bling, but they are not shown on my artwork.) The result can be seen here.
Here's a secret: her face is exactly the same as the one I made for this previous t-shirt!

Monkey's Swap Cards

Above: I have been been adding coloured backgrounds in Photoshop to favourites from my cut-paper set (shown here last) to submit them to Luerzer's Archive. I have also posted them on Flickr.

A Logo for our Coup

Above: a logo in progress for the cohousing project I am involved in. What a great bunch of art directors the rest of the Coup are (architects, pharmacists, town planners, social workers, etc) -- the chicken as 'house' idea was their's. There is alot to be said for throwing ideas around the table, and it's especially appropriate in our case as we are a co after all, therefore it's important that the logo belongs to everybody.

Inspiration 5: Svijet oko Nas

My love for the 1960's two-volume Yugoslav children's encyclopedia Svijet oko Nas (The World Around Us) knows no bounds. Yes, I have mentioned it here before. I thought it was time to share it with the world and post some of my favourite pictures from it. It can be found by clicking here on Flickr. I have not posted a great deal of images as the books are in delicate condition and will not stand up to being bent over a scanner too many times. However, please let me know if you have enjoyed seeing them and would like to see more.
Above: Gol! (Goal!) from the entry on the human body in volume II.

A Lion for Augie March

Last Friday afternoon, Augie March needed a picture urgently to advertise their imminent "On the Quiet" shows -- and my geographic proximity to their manager David proved to be a mutual advantage. My finished picture, above.

It wasn't all plain sailing, as the cliche goes. Above is my second sketch -- the first sketch looks so awful to me now that I dare not share it (only with the whole of Augie March and their staff). The above sketch was deemed a bit too "Disney", and even though I quite liked it at the time, now I can see that the boys were right. Even when opting for an acoustic guitar, Augie March is still a rock'n'roll band, right?

Above is an example of work in situ, on a little poster advertising the NSW shows. I imagined another colour there, perhaps yellow or red, and more of a hand-done feel. But that just wouldn't be rock'n'roll, or rather "Lowkeystic, " would it?

(For the non-Australians who might be reading this post, I thought that I would include a link to my favourite Augie March song, Asleep in Perfection, as well as their 2006 Triple J Hottest 100 winner: One Crowded Hour. Two of many fine songs.)

Working 9 - 5: A Bird and a Teapot

Above: this bird and its companion the teapot below, will appear in Seed stores from next week, as hand stitched appliques on t-shirts. Sitting here under a ceiling fan, in searing 40+ heat, it seems odd to extol the virtues of a vector bird wrapped in a scarf and a steaming pot of tea, but I will try. The bird was invented just after I came back from Scandinavia: he is a sort of "Marimekko" puffin. (Well, not really, because I might get into trouble for associating that holy word beginning with 'M' with my own work, but Marimekko is pretty brilliant, simple and so vividly Scandi, that I can't help but see it as the apex of all that is great about design there, and I did want my puffin to be stylishly dressed.)

This is my original concept for the teapot. On the t-shirt it will appear without the cup (and that 'stitched' trail of steam that is making me feel even hotter just looking at it), on some differently coloured backgrounds. As we sit wilting in Melbourne, the stores are filling with winter clothes. How did the fashion industry get to be so silly?!

My Life as a Chicken

Above: I am doing an online course at Designboom, which I am enjoying very much. The first task is a self-portrait. I sat in the studio yesterday and wrote down words which popped into my head: bicycle, folk art, chicken, pig, coloured pencils, human body parts. I decided not to go with anything too gruesome (which might be a sign of psychological progression) and composed a picture just using some of the words. I gave the chicken a human face with red lipstick (of course) so as to give it an element of the unexpected. Rather Edward Lear, I thought, complimenting myself. Then I became worried that my internet classmates would think that I am proportioned like a chicken. I had plenty of time left in the studio, so I worked up an old sketch: While those shown agreed that it looked more like me, I feel uncomfortable with the result and I don't find it very interesting. So I worked it up again below (this time it really doesn't look like me, thankfully) removing the girl's clothes, which hopefully contextualises it less and makes the idea a bit more interesting. She is holding a bunch of sage, which covers her body parts and goes nicely with pig.

I decided however to forget my vanity and send over the chicken.

I really enjoyed using watercolour: it's a very dignified medium, although it intimidates me to be using the same medium as alot of the mid 20th century illustrators I admire, and alot of contemporary European ones as well. (Beautiful examples here: Le Crayon, a society of legendary French illustrators.)

Neighbourhood Watch

Above: As previously shown in progress here, this is my entry for the Linden Postcard Show, a house made of balsa wood with a sign depicting a smiling Wayne Carey. I have called it Neighbourhood Watch, partly in honour of the questionable types that the average Australian tends to place on a pedestal. (Yes, it could become a series.) On another level, Wayne Carey himself is the product of a very difficult childhood and with alot of tragic things going on behind closed doors all over this country, the idea of a "Neighbourhood Watch" is laughable.

Putting the house together was surprisingly quick. The glue took hardly any time to dry, and the pieces sat together easily as they were incredibly light. So Nick was right after all -- balsa wood is the way to go. Though I will probably learn shortly that it is a highly questionable material in environmental terms, and why can't I just go out and find some old wood to recycle, etc., etc...?!

January 9: NEWS! My work won second prize! Today all the recipients were photographed near one of the brimming-full walls. Standing in the centre smirking at the camera, I felt like the lead singer of a rock band. My fifteen minutes.

Motifs to Print

Above: while looking through some old folders at work the other day, I found this page of motifs. I can't remember painting them, but I thought I would sneak them home because I might yet use them for something. One day I will learn to carve potato halves painstakingly, and will do a series of French Provincial style fabrics. Maybe using little French potatoes. In France, of course.

In Progress: A Plywood Creature

Above: I am actually taking a break from this project while I finish the house. This jellyfish was inspired by a nineteenth century drawing found in my old copy of KOS, a beautiful science history magazine published during the 1980's by Franco Maria Ricci.
(Click here to enter designboom which explains more about Ricci and his publications, among other tempting things like online design courses and interviews with great designers .)

Above: the Queen makes a reappearance too, partly because I lost my previous Queenie to the fundraising event at Seventh about a month ago. (I wonder whose wall she is gracing now?!) So far, the idea is the same as the paper versions: these too will be cut out and assembled into a new type of creature, though I'm not sure how yet.

In Progress: Building a House

Above: I am slowly making a 30 cm wide house as part of my entry into the Linden Postcard Show. Part of my plan is to evoke the sort of weary brick boxes that were the most careless examples of "home" in the suburb where I grew up. After much spying and embarrassed photographing in various courts and crescents off the Nepean Highway, I conveniently found my muse a street from where I live right now: a quiet aberration squeezed between two Victorian workers' cottages. (I am sure that the workers' cottages were just as depressing in their own way, once upon a time. Very interesting how these things change.)

The original idea was to use plywood, but the wise brother advised me to use a material that I could easily cut by myself using a scalpel, rather than relying on him to cut it by machine in his workshop (he's clever). Initially I hated the way that the balsa wood sucked up the paint and was cursing my brother's name (he'll never know) but then as these things happen, I got used to it. There was plenty of opportunity to get used to it, painting each wall brick by brick, below. The typically 1970's shiny tiled roof is next. I can't wait. And I naively thought that only being on the computer all day could make my eyes that sore!

Working 9 - 5: Doll Face

Above: I am unusually proud of 'Doll Face', a design which I based on the babushka and painted up a few months ago at work. I scanned her into Photoshop, cleaned and re-coloured her in our palette for that month's range, then sent the artwork to China. There it was printed onto white cotton poplin, then turned under and neatly and sewn onto the t-shirts by hand. The hair was also made of two pieces of navy blue fabric, again sewn by hand. I hope that the people doing the sewing got some enjoyment out of it.
Pssst: next winter she will have a sassy sister...

For the Love of Mordy

Above: Often I have moments when I think "I wish I had my camera". The other evening, when I found myself down in Mordy (that's Mordialloc to non locals) I realised that I actually did.

Above: I love this logo! It's so odd. I wonder what the thought process was behind it?!

I've included the above snap to contextualise the place for the non Melbournian readers: Mordialloc is not the most beautiful or exciting "sleepy" fishing town (suburb, really) but I think that's the reason why I like it.

The Chef: Version 2

Above: the chef, who first came to life quite a few years ago now, reworked for the submission first mentioned below. I am not as happy with him as I am with the babushkas and the seaside children, but I think that if I keep going with him I will just get sick of the whole thing and will end up submitting nothing (I need to submit three at once, he is the last one I need to finish).Above: a beautiful 1950's TWA advertisement which I used as inspiration for the chef's colour palette. I love the mixture of bright and pastel colours, it's very 1950's and pleasingly odd to contemporary eyes. And the topic: aeroplane food (supposedly!) is one of my nearest and dearest. The uniform is also rather elaborate and looks technically impossible, except to a Paris couturier. I stumbled across this picture at work: I believe an ex colleague with no respect for the sanctity of books tore it out of a Taschen vintage advertising compendium.

January 9: I only just submitted the three illustrations today, after too many trials and tribulations for my liking: the test (which I sat twice due to a technical hitch), their server problems over Christmas, as well as (probably related but unacknowledged) changes in the format, including a now compulsory zip compression requirement for which I had to buy Winzip. I wish I could also download some patience...