Escapee

Hey there chaps, apologies for my slackness in posting of late. All manner of ridiculousness has occurred since I last wrote, including hospital stays, near death experiences and a whole lot of bruising.

However, this was never intended to be a forum for my misfortunes and so I shall make no more excuses (though I shall very probably write about it in more detail in time, the bruises were pretty cool!). Here instead is today's image, enjoy.

Calamity Jen

It's official, the life of your humble scribbler is a truly ridiculous one. Who else do you know who would accidently move into a house infested with giant rats? Or run headlong into a frozen lake (an incident which, although it occurred a seriously long time ago, is recounted with considerable zeal by my brother's friends at every opportunity, usually when they're introducing me to someone nice and normal looking).

The most recent entry to the list of my public humiliations took place on my way home from work on Monday. Standing amongst the jostling crowd at Vauxhall station, headphones in and fairly indifferent to my surroundings. As usual, when the train pulled up, the crowd surged toward the doors dragging me in its wake; absentmindedly avoiding the numerous pushchairs, sticks and bags that always seem to appear at this particular moment. Just as I was about to alight, one of my black ballet pumps flew off my foot, slid smoothly beneath the step and disappeared down the side of the train.

Now there was no way of going back, the crowd was too dense and I had no wish to draw attention to myself. So, without so much as a pause, I stepped onto the train and gained my usual spot, crushed between a sweaty suit and a badly controlled rucksack. Only then could I assess the situation.

The gap, the 'Mind the Gap' gap, had just eaten my shoe!

Not only that, but at some point in the very near future, I was going to have to get off this train and there was absolutely no way that people wouldn't notice.

As far as I could see, I had three options. I could get off at Clapham Junction and see if I could find a replacement pair- this would not only involve walking through England's busiest station at it's busiest time, but also the shame of entering an actual shop and presumably having to explain things to the cashier- eugh! I couldn't quite face this idea, so it would have to be options two or three. These were, essentially, to stay as I was, with the one stockinged and one shod foot, or I could take off my remaining shoe and walk home barefoot, making my lack of footwear seem intentional rather than accidental. Since my general fashion style can be best described as ‘hobo chic’, this final option could work, though the possibility of my being sectioned at some point during the 10 minute trek to my house was pretty high. It would also mean that I’d have to remove my other shoe at some point, leading to more awkward questions.

In the end I hobbled home with my single, lonely shoe, doing my very best to avoid the broken glass, fag butts and fox turds that lined the pavements. I called my brother to distract me from my predicament and his gleeful laughter managed to blot out the sniggers and jeers of those passing by.

So my friends,in the future, when you hear the tired station announcer making their well known, repetitive plea, please don't ignore them. Please don't treat their warning with the same complacency as I, because one day it might well be your shoe that The Gap consumes and if it does, I will be pointing and sniggering along with the rest.

Aye Aye Captain

' AAAaaaargh'. That is all.

Nobody calls me Chicken

Despite the paroxysms of fear and self doubt that would normally curtail such a venture, I have actually submitted my entry to the Nobrow competition. And here he is, the filthy beast. (He reminds me a little of those ads from the 50's, the ones for skinny men who want to look more manly, it's the dodgey skin tone and camp stance that does it). This act marks quite a significant milestone for me. I have a long history of creating images for specific competitions, only to wimp out at the last minute citing some feeble excuse to mask the yellow-bellied truth.

Here is an image which never made it into the pool of submissions for Amelia's Magazine's 'Shelter' competition last year, though it was finished well before the deadline. I think I blamed a lack of quality scanning equipment for that particular non-act of cowardice. But all this is now over, what with me being a newly reformed character and all. I am channelling the spirit of Marty McFly and renouncing my cowardly ways, and who knows what opportunities such a change will bring.

Soft on the inside, crunchy on the outside

Its been a tough old week for your hunched little scribbler. Beset by migraines and confronted by arrogant morons at every turn, its been a case of batten down the hatches and ride out the storm.

The weather is doing nothing to help my less than jubilant mood. It's currently so cold in my attic room that the fingerless gloves, which these days might as well be surgically attached, are doing little to calm my shaking hands (something of a worry when weilding pointy scissors).

So here is a teeny beastling to brighten up this dark February. I envy him his tough outer casing. Sometimes a full suit of armour seems pretty appealing, although in reality it takes more than that to protect against the painted jaguars of the world.

New scanner, new start

It's official, Jennie the procrastination queen, filled with excuses and self doubt is no more, for here is shiny new post on a blog which has been lying barren and dormant for over a year. (Although whether I pluck up the courage to actually tell anyone about it is another matter entirely).

For a first post it's not particularly jazzy, just a spot of idle lunch time doodling which was mainly cast into digital form in order to test the skills of my spanking new scanner (for we all know that pencil can be troublesome to such devices). My trusty old HP beaut finally gave up the ghost back in April (that bad boy could pick up white oil bar on white paper without breaking a sweat) and though I mourn it still, I feel that it is finally time to move on. The full capabilities of the newbie are yet to be seen, but for now at least I am content with it's performance. 

So, in line with this new 'carpe diem' attitude that I seem to have acquired along with the scanner, I have decided to enter the Nobrow open competition. The title 'People I've Never Met and Conversations I've Never Had', was inspired by Nick White's beautious book of the same name, which is currently nestling snugly on my bookshelf. Here are the first random scrawlings of ideas. Am slightly concerned that the werewolf obsession that has gripped me since uni has gotten out of control, making yet another unbidden appearance here. But hey, why fight against it? After all, who doesn't like a wolf in pink Y-fronts?!