Here’s a collection of five things I drew as a part of the Inktober 2019 challenge.
From top to bottom:
Day 27 (Coat),
Day 4 (Freeze),
Day 15 (Leg end),
Day 22 (Ghost),
Day 28 (Ride)
Jung here. Done 2020 with lead pencils on 11x14 bristol. Original art is up for sale $40 (shipping fee will apply) USD email me and open for private commissions as well jungmeister4@yahoo.com Also I have my 2023 Wall calendar up for sale $19.95 with my artworks through Artwanted.com art community website. Click or copy / paste the link below and would be appreciated if you can support me on the calendar https://www.artwanted.com/artist.cfm?ArtID=115637&Tab=Calendar
Recently, I found this cartoon called "Rudolf" (not Rudolph) and instantly took a liking to the main character. The pose that I drew here can be found at the Youtube link below. https://youtu.be/mVCPCMMyWrU
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?
