Well, my very first Inktober attempt. And I know, I know! Arm wonky, completely buggered — and, I now notice, head too big also. Not to mention where did the 80s Morgan Fairchild/hair metal style come from… (Has anyone noticed just how much Taylor Swift looks like Morgan Fairchild, people? While we’re here? As an aside?)
I don’t completely mind it, though. Might work it over, see if it can be fixed.
a bouquet of roses,
of diamonds and baby’s breath
a few stars thrown in
to confuse over scale
and Satan peering from a black black hole
deep, deep, deep in the vase
a bouquet of roses
roses, foxes and diamonds
diamonds and baby’s breath
breath, and a few stars
the scale is confused
and Satan’s in there too
peeping out a black hole
gravity in the vase
down deep, deep
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017
Image – Vaughan’s Seed Company; Henry G. Gilbert Nursery and Seed Trade Catalog Collection, no known copyright restrictions.
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017
Image – Ludovic Bertron via Creative Commons Licence
Yeah, you didn’t get it wrong, and you’re not having hallucinations. (Knock off the gin a bit, though. It’s getting to be a problem.)
It’s a robin in a flower-hat.
What? Man, it’s fucking tough posting a blogpost every day! You try it!
You can expect a whole lotta cute animals in titfers over the next few days. And you are welcome!
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017
Image – Ludovic Bertron via Creative Commons Licence
a bouquet of roses,
of diamonds and baby’s breath
a few stars thrown in
to confuse over scale
and Satan peering from a black black hole
deep, deep, deep in the vase
a bouquet of roses
roses, foxes and diamonds
diamonds and baby’s breath
breath, and a few stars
the scale is confused
and Satan’s in there too
peeping out a black hole
gravity in the vase
down deep, deep
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017
Image – Vaughan’s Seed Company; Henry G. Gilbert Nursery and Seed Trade Catalog Collection, no known copyright restrictions.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Great fun read, and Amoruso seems like she would be the funnest person to hang out with. Her sheer drive and wit and energy are inspiring – it’s just a shame that Nastygal itself seems to have crashed and burned, judging by the news stories. Still, I’m sure that Amoruso will rise from the ashes. (I just hope she’s managed to hang on to some of the money, after all her hard work.)
Little Big Books: Illustrations for Children’s Picture Books by Robert Klanten
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book was delightful, and the chance to experience the artwork of so many wonderful artists was a joy. I was slightly disappointed that only a small number of the artists featured were actually interviewed for the book, as I found the interviews to be as much of a highlight as the illustrations. Kitty Crowther’s interview especially was wonderful, funny and enlightening, in addition to her beautiful pictures. I did mark the book down slightly from four to five for this reason. Although if all the artists had been interviewed, it would of course have been a much longer and more expensive book!
However it’s a beautiful book and wonderfully presented, and I would still recommend it to anyone interested in art and book illustration.
I’m listening to Scarlatti a lot lately – and really, could it be any more like the spots on a blue butterfly’s wing?
*Louis Armstrong
I was obliged to take a walk into town today, due to transport issues – GOSH-DARN INTERNAL COMBUSTION ENGINES, WHY WERE THEY EVER INVENTED? But there were compensations along the way, abundant compensations. Primary amongst these were the vetches in the hedgerows and the woods – multi-headed purple vetches, and purple vetches are almost my favourite vetches. (Apart from birdsfoot trefoil, and that’s an unfair competition, because birdsfoot trefoil is also colloquially called eggs-and-bacon in the UK, AND HOW CAN ANY DECENT WILDFLOWER BE EXPECTED TO COMPETE WITH THAT?)
Vetches are the prettiest things. The internal combustion engine is the annoyingest thing, but vetches are the derndest prettiest things.
Also the blackberries are not quite yet finished off – or pissed on by Satan and rendered inedible, as the folklore has it. (It’s the maggits in wild brambles that bother me more than Satan’s theoretical outdoor hedgerow slashes while out on the piss. Copious amounts of salted water, to deal with the wildlife, can render them uneatable anyway.)
There were even some unripe blackberries still hanging high, fruit and flower everywhere, nature in profusion and gloriously fertile.
It rained a little, and I’d forgotten my brolly. But I didn’t feel I had too much to complain about, all told. I came back with biscuits, after all – and biscuits are the comfortingest things.
*Brian Jacques.
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