Monday, 27 April 2009
Beastie goes flying
Here is a page from the picture book 'The Beast of the Thames' that I have been working away on... When I first started doing this I had totally underestimated how difficult it is to make a children's book. I didn't think it would be a picnic, but, blimey! So far I've made stuff that's been too scary, too complicated, too childreny, not childreny enough, with weird colours, with very weird colours indeed, and with spectacularly inconsistant characters.... However. Having found a very lovely creature called a capybara in Bristol Zoo, and drawn it, alot, and quietly battling away with photoshop, I am starting to feel like I'm making some progress... HOORAY! Still got a way to go, but might have an idea of which way I am heading. Which is definately a start.
Monday, 20 April 2009
Knitted Rocking Horse vs Tin Zebra
Sunday, 19 April 2009
V&A drawings
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Jumping at Shadows
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Seem to have been neglecting the ol' blog for a little while, so thought I would ease back in with some little sketchbooky bits and bobs from Bologna. Was out there last week for the Children's Book Fair, which was fascinating. Mental. But fascinating. Amazing to see what's going on in children's illustration all over the world, there's some really interesting stuff out there. Iran rocks, Italy is cool and France is rather lovely.
Bologna was a very welcoming city, especially our B&B, which was run by a gentle old lady who fussed over the small band of illustrators at the breakfast table as if we were long lost grandchildren. She was utterly unworried at our lack of comprehension as she talked away to us in rapid quiet italian, nudging more toast and coffee towards anyone who accidentally still looked hungry. The city was the colour salmon pink colour of one of my marker pens, and we eeked out coffee and hot chocolate to soak up some rays of sunshine on prized tables in the piazza.
Bologna was a very welcoming city, especially our B&B, which was run by a gentle old lady who fussed over the small band of illustrators at the breakfast table as if we were long lost grandchildren. She was utterly unworried at our lack of comprehension as she talked away to us in rapid quiet italian, nudging more toast and coffee towards anyone who accidentally still looked hungry. The city was the colour salmon pink colour of one of my marker pens, and we eeked out coffee and hot chocolate to soak up some rays of sunshine on prized tables in the piazza.