Bwa Ha Ha! I laugh in the face of the storm! (inwardly)
Bwa Ha Ha! I mock the tempest (oo 'Mock the Tempest', good name for a band .... the band ... maybe ... maybe not)
Bwa Ha Ha! although it's really only drizzling and I'm standing under a bridge.
I get there early to beat the smokers to the good pitch. Things to note as I walk in:
- I have a hole in the bottom of my right shoe so that it squelches as I walk.
- Tanning! only 69p per minute! (is that cheap - sounds a lot to me. If they're trying to fool people they should try 'less than 2p per second!' that would have them queuing in the streets.)
- 'retchmarks' advertised in another beauty shop - it's closed and not sure if it will ever open again, but if I had visible retchmarks, I'd probably pay to have them removed.
Painting goes okay - I think - I get radical at the end and put a large (ish) figure in, but keep it real sketchy. I'm standing on a slope and my crooked posture soon causes problems with cramp and back ache so I call it finished and slink off.
On the way to the studio:
I'm walking so it's an opportunity to get all Kurt Jackson and do some quick sketching on the way in:
Now this is what I'm talking about - WW (reminder WW = William Wray) or what?
Under railway line through the dodgy underpass that you wouldn't use at night. Even more WW - got to come back with my easel.
Along the run down street on the other side. 'Sold'?! Can't believe it.
Same street and look - someone has spent some time and effort just bashing tacks into the tarmac pavement. Little piles of them scattered around. Ha - what an idiot - what's the point of that? Ha - almost as dumb as someone standing here looking at the pavement and doing a drawing of it ... yeah ... ha ...
Over the bridge to the studio and there's some memorial flowers tied to the railings. I wonder who and I wonder why.
Shoulder's still achey, but the sun comes out and I feel the need to get out and paint. I can't carry the easel far, but then, realisation dawns and I know that I can be all WW ish if I just paint the Upper Bristol Road. I set up painting a couple of front doors and my bizarre location inspires many drivers shooting past to hoot their horns and see whether they can make me jump. Annoyingly, I oblige them. Ha ha yeah yeah, very funny.
Similarly the seagulls seem to mock me, but much to my relief they miss with their pooh, splatting the pavement just next to me.
The painting seems to be showing promise, but the large phallus in the foreground is bugging me and I know I'm going to have to do something about it next time.
On the way home from the studio:
I'm still feeling all inspired, but after a few pints, the sketches are going a bit skewy. I realise that I can actually sketch people on the move by walking behind them while I draw. This works surprisingly well apart from:
- When they walk really quickly, it's difficult to keep up and draw at the same time
- I'm only getting rear views
- I will inevitably get arrested or punched or both