We have perpetual potential at the end of our tongues to convey and share limitless emotion, information, opinions and experiences. It’s a wonderful gift, to have access to innumerable possibilities of communication that, with the sheer number of words and careful choice grammatical order, can convey from one human being to another, just about anything.

But we, as human beings are greedy creatures. And sometimes I feel that, despite the incredible number or words in my aresnal of communicative choice (and even the vast linguistic toolbox that is outside of my knowledge ) there couldn’t possibly be one that would ever communicate effectively the strength of feelings in certain situations. For the extent of some things, there are simply no words.

No words to accurately convey how much we love someone, the pure injustice that they, of all people, have had to suffer, the pain of their early departure from us and the sheer size of the hole the loss of their presence has formed.

No combination of words could ever accurately explain the true uniqueness of someone. The amount they made me laugh and, above all, how very, truly, incomprehensibly lucky I am to have had them for the time I did.

It is easy, when something has been taken from you, to feel a level of injustice at what you’ve lost. But I would just like to attempt, even with my lack of words to explain fully, how grateful I am to have experienced and known someone so wonderful. Especially when it turns out that their time was so much shorter than expected.

In a world without our girl, so many have never had the chance to know and love her. I am truly blessed and honored to not find myself in that category.

And I wish I could explain the extent to which I mean that, but sometimes there are just no words.

My Beautiful friend, we miss you and love you. But I could never convey how much.

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I hope you’ve all had a marvelous festive season, have had at least one gift that wasn’t socks and have sufficiently experimented with the maximum capacities of your tummies.

I’ve spent mine, as is customary, avoiding my university work by engaging in – what I can only describe as borderline dangerous -  amounts of baking for my family. And as I have no work to show for the past week of fun and festivities, I thought I’d practice my photography skills (or lack thereof) and make you all feel thoroughly sick with yet more cake.

Go on, you can fit in one more helping. It is the season, afterall.

The cake is a cheats Christmas cake made with my Nan’s leftover home made mincemeat, put together by myself and my Kitchen Bitch (my sister) who was on egg cracking and gathering duty. I candied bags and bags of nuts using various methods for my family to nibble on, but kept a few over to decorate. Then whacked on a slice of clementine and a cinnamon stick to keep my mum happy. That whole, rustic farmhouse deal is kind of her thing.

We got a bit over excited with the mix, ending up with enough to fill two cake tins instead of the intended one, so I knocked up a cinnamon glaze for one to make them a little differentiation between the two.

So here you go, feel better by knowing that, no matter how little work you have done, you have probably done more than me who, once again, has earned the title of Time Waster Extraordinaire.

Ah well, tis the season to be a giant waster. That’s a classic phrase right?

B

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I know this, because the internet told me so. The Internet, in all it’s all-knowing glory, has come down this Christmas time in the form of Comic Community site Broken Frontier, with the flattering news that my work has been included in their Top Ten List of the best indie comics of 2012.

How about THAT?

So why not just treat yourself this Christmas and check it out here. Consider it a treat for having survived the end of the world.

Festive love to all and all that jazz.

B

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Ok now, I want you o stand up, turn around and get out, and the rest of us can appreciate how disgusting they are via the means of my little zine, Bears: Don’t Like ‘em! This came about last Easter, and since then has been a consistently strong seller at arts fairs and conventions, to men, women and bear haters everywhere. And actually, one or two intrigued bear lovers too.

Having witnessed it’s popularity, I thought I’d bring it to life with a little splash of colour and returned to my usual haunt, the print rooms, to create these three sets of limited edition screen prints from the zine.

And a fox in a tie. That one was really just for giggles though.

So that’s all quite nice.

Now let’s all go have a cup of tea.

B

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I bring it up only because it had some attractive examples of interesting, illustrated card decks, which happens to be the brief of my most recent illustration project, which I am lovingly bringing to you today as part two of the Second Year Catch Up sesh.

We were asked to create a set of nine cards in the style of Edward Gorey’s Fantod deck of alternative Tarot. And my eyes immediately turned into little dollar bill signs, as this was in November, just prior to Comiket. And card decks are a pretty sell-able deal.

I turned to my interests in media theory for inspiration, choosing to illustrate Vladmir Propp’s theory of set character types. With creepy puppets. Because if a project of mine needs one thing, it’s definitely an air of macabre. (There was research and reasoning to back this up by the way, but, who am I kidding? You don’t care about that! You’re probably going to sneak past the text, straight to the pictures anyway, you cheeky little blog ninja.)

So here it is, The Propp-Up Theatre Deck.

So we have The fist 7 from Propp’s character theory (I chose to omit the Father as a separate character, merging him with the Dispatcher as is often the case with folklore anyway.) Then made up the full nine with the Bottler and Punchman, the traditional workers of the Punch an Judy show.

We had to design the nine cards themselves, then a back for them as well as a Key Guide to reading them, tarot style. I went a step further (in the name of making moolah) and turned my key into a small booklet with information about the concept as well as the cards themselves, as well as handprinting candy bags to echo the punch and Judy, disturbing British seaside vibe.

And did the punters at Comiket appreciate all the hardwork? Damn tootin they did! They were the first thing of mine to go and by the end of the day I only had about 2 sets left. Not bad for a school project/money making combo.

B

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You know, in the spirit of Christmas and all that.

Not that I have any Seasonal based works for you, because I’VE BEEN BUSY. So Uni work it is.

So let’s kick start with a bit of printmaking shall we? For no other reason than it makes me happy. And I’m in charge.

The brief was…well just that. Very simply to create a screen printed poster selling our favorite fast food restaurant.

This is all very well and good, except I happen to be a proud, longstanding member of  the societal subculture of “students who cook” and, therefore have something of an aversion to fast food. Actually, that’s putting it quite lightly. What I mean is, generally and on the whole, I really bloody hate it.

“Not to worry!” My tutor insisted, “You may employ a use of irony!”

So I did. I employed a use of irony. Actually, I employed a really bloody heavy use of irony and drew, what probably turned out to be the single, most disturbing thing that’s ever been dredged from the depths of my skull, in the name of promoting Yicken, a Chinese take out back where I grew up. You know the kind: greasy walls, tiled floors, an inescapable use of that classic yellow and red colour scheme that desperately attempts to suggest some element of culture.

Actually, if I’m entirely honest, as far as nasty Chinese’s go, Yicken isn’t the worst. It just happens to have a heinously playful name that I thought might be handy in the creation of the poster.

There it is. A vile, possibility regarding the identification of the mystery meat found in that greasy tub of yours.

Tagged: chicken creature, chinese, fast food, printmaking, prints, screen print, take away, uni work, university, Yicken ]]> http://bagleyart.com/2012/12/20/second-year-frollicks-the-end-of-term-catch-up-part-1-chickens/feed/ 0 yick beebag yicken http://bagleyart.com/2012/12/14/an-ebook-for-you/ http://bagleyart.com/2012/12/14/an-ebook-for-you/#comments Fri, 14 Dec 2012 15:44:33 +0000 beebag http://bagleyart.com/?p=833 Continue reading →]]> So, following on from the last post, I’ve been drawing inspirational ladies for an inspirational lady.

If you’d like to learn more about the achievements of some truly incredible people, or simply need an antidote to the head-in-palms inducing presentation of us double X chromosome owners available in magazine racks, check out this charming little ebook.

The pictures ain’t half bad either.

B

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Some men are really awesome and make you appreciate things just by telling you what they think, and you stare and wish you had their knowledge in your head so you could think like that.

And, by the same token, some men are pretty lame. They destroy things or lie or do both and then pretend they haven’t. They get power hungry and selfish and manipulate a whole lot of people who don’t understand how small they are in comparison.

And there’s a whole load of women who are just as lame and just as corrupt and make choices that nobody else really likes, if they knew they had been made.

And then, by the same token, there are some really rad women. Women who also think differently and make you say things like “wow!”.

Women from the past like this lady:

Women from, the slightly more recent past like these ladies:

Women from all over time, like these ladies:

And Women who make totally rad things that look totally bad ass and help progress understandings, like this thing.

And some women do drawings of things for other women who really like cool women that have done stuff.

True Say.

B

I ask, only because you would, under no uncertain terms, be forgiven for thinking I was an illustration student. I think it’s something to do with the total lack of organisation, adoration for comics and drawing…”things” and my total inability to draw straight lines.

And The fact that I’m not sure I’ve mentioned the word “grid” once since setting this site up over a year ago.

Well I am. It’s a mixed course admittedly, and there is certainly a heavy emphasis on image making and illustration too, but I wanted to, very quickly, dispel any myths that I am no good for anything but the world of the wibbly.

The current project is all about layout. And I’m finding it a challenge and a half. Here is the, incredibly ugly, induction timetable for first years to my University.

Yes we are actually an arts and design school. The irony is not lost on me.

See, this what happens when you leave all the admin to the Humanities Campus.

But I digress, we’re currently taking part in a series of short exercises in redesigning the above ugly thing, into something considerably less ugly using a set of strict restrictions and rules (One typeface only, one colour only 3 type size only etc). Just to clarify, this is by no means a practice of making something “beautiful” in the traditional sense. This is about creating order, making structure and making use of positive and negative space, type weight, type size and a hell of a lot of Swiss inspired graphical magic.

So, so far these are  how I’ve gone about getting my Bauhaus on. Don’t worry about the text. This is about the overall effect of the page, the information itself is borderline irrelevant.

      Mmmmm…delicious, gridded neatness.

I have a whole bunch of these, with tweaks here and changes there. Things most people wouldn’t notice in the slightest. It’s got to the stage of adjusting it pixel by pixel in a worrying display of Design Induced OCD.

I wanted to chat about these, I suppose just to remind everyone that us people-creatures don’t have to be pigeon holed as much as we often are. Yes I know it’s all in the same sort of area of design and creativity, but I am just one little person who happens to define herself as an illustrator of sorts. That it what I love, how I make a little moolah, and what I devote a lot of time to. But there is always room in my little noggin for different things. Things that require me to think differently and consider how I see things differently, and I think it’s pretty cool that we have the capacity to do these different things at the same time. I think that I, like so many others, can lose sight of that when life gets busy and sink back into the comfort of what I know I can do.

But I’m really starting to get into these little layout majigs. They’re challenging for a messy art bug like me, and I’ve definitely not cracked it yet, but with every new design I make, I see new promise and get joy from the structure of it all. The Organisation is SO pleasing.

I’ve literally gone from a fanatic of this:

Dave Mckean; Wolves in the Walls. A STUNNING book.

To This:

Joseph Muller Brockmann: Swiss magic

Seriously!

THIS:

Shaun Tan. Cool guy and badass illustrator.

TO THIS!!:

Jan Tschichold

Learning is fun

B

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According to the mental health professional’s handbook, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders , fourth edition, text revision (2000), also known as DSM-IV-TR, it is characterised by the sufferer’s inability to retain new memories or learn new information based on experience. This would make it very difficult to use any information gained through personal experience to alter the sufferer’s actions in their future endeavours. They are, essentially, unable to learn from their past mistakes.

I’m informing you of this, very interesting and clever sounding information (that I have, just now, stolen from the internet), because I think I must have this condition. Why else would I be so, totally one hundred percent incapable? Other than the fact I am just, literally a twat.

Unlike most people of sound minds, I seem to be completely and utterly incapable of learning from my mistakes, specifically with regards to the time management of personal projects, (illustrated best by this time, this time or, indeed, this time) and taking the necessary steps in ensuring that I DON’T DO THAT AGAIN.

Case and point: I have just this week recovered after five consecutive days of sleep deprivation and manic photoshopping induced finger strain, in an attempt to knock together the four page comic I have been thinking about making for about two months. The operative word here being thinking. I have known about a competition for a four page comic for the full length of this time and for the entirety of it, have had the well-meaning intention to enter. I started of pretty well, I wrote it. Then I did the first storyboard for the first page…about a month later. Then I put it off like an absolute champ until the week before deadline.

Oh yeah, and it was postal entry so completion time was pretty crucial in order to get it there in time. Brilliant.

And thus began the next installment in the, worryingly frequent, let’s-not-sleep-for-a-few-bajillion-hours-so-we-can-finish-this-work-that-really-should-have-been-done-at-least-three-days-ago saga.

And this is what I bring you today. The fruits of my most recent labour, made much harder by my own idiocies and disregard for my poor, suffering body’s basic need for sleep.

I don’t know if it’s a form of unassuming arrogance or simply a branch of unquestionable stupidity, but it’s getting seriously ridiculous the extent of which I will leave the things I want to do in favour of  doing, just about, anything else.

I managed it yes. I finished four pages of narrative and I submitted it, within the time restraints of the competition. And it’s not the worst comic ever made. But it could, and more to the point SHOULD have been better. Much better. I should have had the time to redo the first storyboard as a storyboard and not had to rework it on the final page. I should have had the time to find a font that suited the tale better than the, pretty sorry, collection I work from currently, downloaded it and implemented it. I should have had the time to rework the text so that the first page wasn’t so unbalanced in terms of the relationship between text and image (you know, kinda the most important aspect of a graphic novel.) Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda. Because I DID actually have that time. And I frittered it away baking cakes and complaining about my summer project.

And now it is done. And that means it cannot be undone, at least until Marty Mcfly realises that he definitely is wasting his time with Jennifer and is willing to spring forward to 2012 and marry me, whisking me away in our badass time machine (this will happen after he realises he’s fed up of being a fictional character and ready to take the steps into the realms of reality), at which point I can find past me and give me a good slap, shouting “DO SOME WORK NOW” in my own face.

Until that moment, I’m going to have to settle with LEARNING from what has gone before and NOT leaving everything that is not of immediate importance until it is, at which point it’s too late for it to reach it’s full potential.

Well I can dream. There’s a definite possibility here, that I am actually just doomed.

B

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