Tea & Noodles

It's been a very busy couple of weeks as I have relocated to the wonderful world of roundabouts: Milton Keynes. In among all the chaos however, I found a little time to draw. I was inspired by Pascal Campion , who's blog and daily drawings have always been a bit of an inspiration to me. I decided only to stick with the stick man esque drawing so as to not to lose the original poses. I really have fond feelings for the drawing on the right, as this was inspired by my last week working for my uncle as his child minder.  As well as that, I had the opportunity to work as a production assist for Marco's Little Black Book , which you can find here on Youtube which was an absolute joy to work on and I hope I'm asked again. I met a bunch of inspiring people, who were more concerned with quality over quantity. On an extra note, I have started watched the second series of Channel 4's Black Mirror - I am officially disturbed, Charlie Brooker's three...

First post of the year came a little later in January than I expected. I'm moving from Bristol in two weeks time and I somehow managed to find time to draw, so here is what I achieved!  My final drawing was more a combination of wishful thinking and the feeling of being trapped. Which, seemed to just appear in my work. I wanted to try a night time effect as well in Photoshop- I think it works, guess I'll see from any comments I get.

I'm sure they'll be time for words next year, Speak to you all in 2013!

As this blog is a place of not just my drawing but my writing and love for film, I'm going to elaborate a little bit on my reviews I've been doing on Twitter and talk a little about them on my blog too...  So, today I will now be talking about two things that I've got into recently; firstly I shall talk about what everyone's talking about:  The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.  I saw the Hobbit on Friday, in 2D (though I will see it again in 3d/48 fps) and I really enjoyed myself. It was a very merry jaunt into middle earth if ever there was one. I did have two problems with the film, and honestly, they're rather small and don't change my thoughts or emotions about the film. The length. It's pretty long at 2 hours 50 miniutes and it does seem slow at times because of this... However, everything that was included was needed. I do mean everything too. I can't think of anything that doesn't keep you interested or tells you information that you as an...

He could tell right away someone had been in his house. The glass splattered the hall way and blood lingered on the door window pane. Crunching the glass with his boots Andy Sparks turned to his light switch; there were no lights either: great. Another step forward. The cottage was small so their wasn't a lot of room to hide and he feared what he would find in the darkness. He turned to look into the galley kitchen and froze as a groan rang out from behind him – pained and muffled from the living room. He turned round slowly and crept to the archway. “Who's there?” he raised his mobile phone like a weapon which had been doubling as a torch. “Show yourself or I'll call the police...” He tailed off as a figure came into view in the half light. He gaped; going ashen as he looked upon her and how her hands seemed to will him towards them. “Andy...” rasped the figure, her voice painful to the ear. “Andy it's me...you have to--” “Shh!” he hushed her as ...

I did a few doodles after a very unproductive day. Animation day and sorting the forum tomorrow and Tuesday and Creative Writing on Thursday. Am I excited? Yes, yes I am! 

As I've been very quiet of late I'd thought I'd update pockets of information to you all to show you that I am not dead. So, what's going on? 1. I'm considering "The Big Move" towards London (scary stuff) 2. I'm currently Forum Moderator for the Adobe Generation Animation Course. If you've not heard of it and you're interested in animation it's definitely worth checking out. An online course that's once a week and a piece of homework for the following week and it's not just animation either. Game Design and Photo Imaging and a nice little certificate at the end too. Check it all out here:  http://www.adobegeneration.com/ 3. I've been asked to be story artist for another independent project currently known as "The Invention Series" three five minute films all about the invention of a "button" but they'll be more on that to follow up next time.  And last but not least, I'm drawing again! Littl...

We had a solider living across the road from me when I was growing up. Saving many during the war even though we lost. New regimes immediately followed like a virus, sweeping a broken country to serve a new government. People like him were tucked away, lucky to not be a prisoner of war. He stayed hidden in plain sight, keeping his thoughts and opinions to himself; he like most were lucky to have his body as intact as his brain. Maybe it was why he never tried to defend us all again.... My brother was eleven when he was shot outside his front lawn. Murdered on the spot by corrupt police. I remember standing on the other side of the street with my parents; they were screaming for justice, but what is justice now but only a burning reminder of what the war cost us. He spoke to me, only once. “ Am I as hated as it appears?” he asked, standing at a bus stop consuming a cigarette. Worn and thin, battered down by this new life, skin like old milk and bags under glass eyes...

Amy's heart couldn't pound any faster as she flew across the concrete and towards the steel gate. She whizzed past cotton jumpers and rag tag shirts and ties, she could hear her shoes scraping the ground as she got closer and closer to the exit. The small message had came so quickly that even as she ran she could barely process what she knew to be the joy that awaited her at the end of her sprint. If her little legs could run any faster she felt like she'd be flying, soaring, a bundle of feathers twisting in flight as she skidded round the corner of the gate and out into the street. Her hair knotting as it twisted against the wind. By this point her face was going as red as her scarlet hair, flowing out behind her, her flag of recognition as faces turned to watch her approach. One face she'd been waiting to see in particular. One minute she was one person, the next she was merged with another. Their limbs thrust out in greeting as she and her greet...

My name is Peter King, and I am committing a crime. A crime of what you ask? This I cannot tell you. That would divulge the secret of my success in this ugly world. I'm not what you'd call a criminal though; that's all I can tell you about the current situation. In my life I have seen that a crime can be justified as two things. The first is a crime that is something that is considered by the state, government, religion to be wrong. This means of course that it could be anything from parking on the yellow line to stabbing my girlfriend in the neck with a kitchen knife. The second is a more personal definition of crime. A wrong thing. A crime that is considered evil – whether is it illegal or not, to be the wrong colour, a different sexuality. Depending on the person, and the peoples it effects it is still considered as such a crime. I guess, in the scheme of things it is up to you to see what my crime is defined by. Rain is pouring down the back of m...

INT. SAM'S FLAT SAM is sitting in his old armchair, the TV is still blaring image and the unkempt room still looks as archaic as before. SAM picks up a PHOTOGRAPH on his right hand coffee table and stares at it before quickly putting it down as the door knocks SPX: DOOR KNOCK SAM It's open MATT enters, sulkily in a black hoodie. MATT Hi. SAM doesn't pay him any attention, focusing once again on the television screen. MATT (cont'd) I was serving in the tea room while you were away. SAM Hmph. MATT ...did you want some tea? SAM No. MATT impatiently starts to look round at SAM's FLAT. Angle on the TV MATT Why haven't you turned the volume up? SAM I can't hear it anyway. (beat) MATT Right...(pause) I guess I didn't get to introduce myself properly yesterday. SAM You're Matthew, I'm Sam. Now we know each other. MATT I p...

Hello, just to let you know I haven't disappeared. I am merely trying to make ends meet and still being creative. I've been working mostly on the Jack project as their company artist, and all my new art work for the show including making the programme! Here's just a preview, but if you like what you see go here: www.sophielowden.blogspot.com You will certianlly see some writing here soon!

I can't sleep, not now. Your breathing is shallow against my chest. Your eyelashes fluttering as I move to watch you move closely into the night light. I can't get enough of you. You are the parchment I have longed to write on; your blood red lips the seal I have broken. It took too long to tear open your pages, to crease you and peel back page, after page, after page. I gaze over your skin, I finger your curves and you smile as if you know the truth and I watch as you slide to move ever deeper into me. You are mine now, just like the others. There will always be a page to turn, always be new ink to spill and the hunger to leave my mark is going no where. *** AN: ten minutes and the word "Lust" and this is what I come out with. It's also completely work safe. Now go have a cold shower all of you! Thanks for reading!

It was rare for a café to feel so sterile, so...impersonal. Dakota figured it wasn't the room's fault, or the people getting on with their lives, but the situation at hand. Cupping a mug of coffee at one particular table; Dakota's eyes bared down into the darkness, stirring it's contents intently. Though her back was arched over the item in question, her mind was wandering else where, her pose stung of annoyance. Her companion Elliott on the other hand looked tiredly over at her. As he did so he continued to fiddle with a crisp letter in his hands, before deciding to wipe his glasses on his jumper. “Dakota--” he stated at last with a clear intention to clear the air, but with the call of her name, her face snapped from the coffee mug. “You can't let that...that...” she stumbled, her teeth gritted as she squeezed her hand that rested on the table. Elliott swallowed tightly letting her continue, but noticed her loss of words. He put his glasses back on his no...

It's white in here. Clean. Mummy said we were going to a wedding but we're not at a church. Daddy looks tired, he's working a lot lately and my friends who are getting married are in another room. We're waiting to see them. I think Keith was crying, I didn't understand why. He's getting married today. Maybe that's why he's upset because this place isn't a church. It's got ladies in white everywhere. I don't remember seeing them at a church. Ages later I sit with Mummy and Daddy drinking tea. I love tea, with lots of sugar. Dad's good at making tea but this isn't nice. I almost burnt my tongue on it! I really want Keith and Faye to be with us, but they're not. I don't know why not.Someone comes over to Mummy and daddy. They are talking. The lady in white looks really sad now as she does. I don't get it. I asked mummy. “Mummy,” I said “Where is Keith and Faye? What happened?” “Oh sweetheart...” She said to me, “F...

Updated 2/09/12: Old scripts are old, but scripts non the less. Written almost a year ago *** The Adventures of Captain Prime   A 90 second short based on the idea that you should never judge a book by it's cover: especially the elderly! Freida An animation short on the trials and tribulations of fatherhood with puddles and pointy umbrellas. (Both these links go to Google Docs PDFs just so you know)

They say the world's a stage, but all they do is rage and rage, for chances lost and chances gained and going round the table again, finding the world in not clear-cut and by means we all get stuck in a rut, a rut so big sometimes we forget, that you know, life's not over yet, we do what we can, we do what we might, then perhaps, just perhaps we can put the world right. Well, go on! What are you waiting for? We're no longer in your way, there's the door.

Going Back I tread the halls and find myself uncomforted,  the walls the same,  the tools the same, the fools still un committed,  the ghosts of my past and present arrive,  imagined or real I struggle and strive, with the world the same and it's people shallow, to find my comfort, I can't. It's hollow. **** I met the Yorkshire Poet on Tuesday called  Ian McMillan  and he was fantastic, so I wrote this in response to the last few days.

Turning as she spoke to look at the forest Dakota asked “Do you think there are more dangerous things than you out there?” Elliott considered, before shaking his head. “I would say wolves but they were wiped out so unless they are psychotic murderers or a thief with a gun, I think we're in the clear.” They remained quiet for a moment and Dakota couldn't help imagining killers using the forest as a base of operations before looking over to Elliott intending to ask another question, but he had pulled a old looking book out of the rucksack, and flicked it to the middle. “You're reading that?” she asked, though it was more a statement than a question. “Why?” Elliott turned to look at the cover, Shakespeare's “Hamlet” and proceeded to shrug. “I like it.” Dakota looked at him like he'd been put under an even worse curse than the one he had before standing to stretch. “Well if you read books like that” Dakota said as she took the book off him when...

Free Writing 1# Trouble at work. I had to help. Only four hours. It's just a job.  I needed to be more presentable. Trouble with my appearance.  Why is my hair blue? Where have you all gone? Help.  I'm lost, you're lost. Blue.  Photographers everywhere why? Free Writing 2# If I could climb, I think I can see the star. So bright above me. Close but almost out of reach. I need the star. It calls for a wish. I need to find some height, a ladder, chair, there's nothing but the dark, looming. I hear voices. Dangerous voices. I need the star to survive. So I can go home. I hope I can go home...the star is dying out - I'm just out of reach now, reach! then gone. Dark.  **** Creative writing left me buzzing yesterday even though there were only four members (even our leader was missing!) but we did get to try something that I have never tried before. Free writing. A way of writing almost mindlessly and letting your brain wonder. It's a li...