If you get the reference in the title, yay you. If you didn’t, don’t feel bad, because I only discovered Billie in May. I am a devoted fan, as you can see. Anyway, I used sharpie, alcohol marker, and maybe a little too much pencil and ink...
Tried out some layerish-style flowers using the alcohol markers. Not sure weather I like the result or not, but it’s definitely worth mastering the medium for the effects are rather cool. In theory... Unfortunately the camera sharpens the image and the flowers are more soft and blurry in reality. They look rather fancy and mysterious on the opposite side, too.
I decided to practice posing with a character that has a certain style. I also wanted to test a design for my artist logo. I will definitely be making a digital version of this character in the near future. Colored with Artify alcohol-based markers, and a white Gellyroll pen for highlights.
An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
