Starless

I have no idea how this text will relate to the image because, as I type, the cursor has taken on a life of its own.

Oh well. What you can see (wherever the hell it is) on this entry is a bit of Brendini juvenilia. Now, it could be argued that my artistic endeavours have not moved on over the passing decades. Indeed, it could well be argued that they have, in fact, degenerated. Well. Don't care! So, nyerr!

This is a watercolour what I did in February 1975. I can be that precise because I writted it on the back. It is called "Starless" and I know that because I also writted that on the back too. I also writted, in a different coloured ink the following legend: Based on a track from the album "Red" by King Crimson. 

Red was released in October 1974. The final track on the B side of the vinyl platter which I had excitedly purchased, was called "Starless". See how it all starts to add up?

King Crimson released their first album, In The Court of the Crimson King, in October 1969 and they are currently on tour supposedly playing fifty gigs in celebration of their fiftieth anniversary (They are actually playing fifty one, but never mind). 

The  reason for the ancient painting being posted here? I'M ONLY GOING TO BLOODY SEE THEM AT THE BLOODY ROYAL ALBERT BLOODY HALL!

It's an early birthday present from the best wife on the planet. I have never seen them live and for the first time in my life I am going to see Robert Fripp perform live and in the flesh and all. I am so excited, I feel like a teenager again!

Inktober Musings

Inktober, as a concept, really filled me with optimism and got my creative juices going. I mapped out the suggested titles for each day and even did a few preliminary sketches for one or two of the days. But, alas and alack, I pretty quickly fell by the wayside very early on. Nevertheless, what I did produce represents a number of hours very enjoyably spent. It was also nice to dig out a bottle of ink and a dip pen again.
I am going to re-produce my two favourites here; Tranquil and Spell. Tranquil, because Kenneth Grahame was wrong, well not wrong, but not entirely correct when Ratty tells Mole  "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing--absolutely nothing--half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." he should have added that wallowing in a hot bath with a good book and a good red wine by candlelight runs messing about in boats a pretty close second.

So, on to Spell. I thoroughly enjoyed drawing this although I may have tried to be a little too subtle for my own good. The more eagle-eyed viewer may spot the fact that there is only one corkscrew, one cork, one bottle of wine and a large number of goblets. I wish I could work that magic.

From the two examples I have shown here it would be easy to assume that there is an emerging theme of oenophilia. Those that know me personally will understand that my only response can be "guilty as charged m'lud."

Stockings Versus Tights: A Question of Practicalities

This is my entry for this (sort of ) week's caption competition. All the entries for the weekly CCGB battle may be seen here. The theme was Bank Robbers and I came second!
I think, personally, my attempts to loosen up may be a bit too loose low tech.
Too loose low tech. Toulouse Lautrec. Keep up!
But still, second place!
My head is currently so big that it can only be housed in one of those hangars at Cardington.

The Re-emergence of an Old Obsession.

The cartoon above came second with a total of 15 points in what was, it has to be said, a rather small field. Nonetheless, I am still very proud of that fact. All salient information can be found on this link.
Once again, time and tide would not wait for yours truly, so this was done rather hurriedly, but I am very pleased with the Dr's posture and demeanour. It is, of course, William Hartnell's incarnation of the Dr. I won't say the first and the best, but perhaps the first and the scariest?

Bad Boy, Brendini! Bad Bad Boy!

Well, hand me my hair-shirt and pass that scourge, will you? Mea culpa, mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. Yes yes, I know. The cartoon is of questionable taste, but that is merely par for the course for me as regular readers will know (won't you both?).

 No, I am ashamed to confess that this one is in particular poor taste. I owe D. C. Thomson, in general, and the late, great Jack Prout specifically, a huge apology. Close scrutiny (and if you click on the picture you may scrutinise in great detail) will reveal to readers of a certain age that two of the protagonists very strongly resemble the shepherd, Andrew Glen and his faithful Border Collie, Black Bob. The explanation lies in the fact that I based two of the characters on Andrew Glen and Black Bob. Simple as that.

You may be too young to appreciate Black Bob's qualities of bravery, loyalty and steadfastness, but he was very popular and had eight annuals dedicated to his adventures.

This is why I hang my head in shame. Black Bob would never participate in the shenanigans depicted here.  

The Body Beautiful?

This little bit of nonsense was my entry for the Cartoon Competition that took place in mid March!!!  I tried to come up with some sort of antithesis to Michelangelo's David and came up with Michelangelo's Popeye, with apologies to the late E. C. Segar. I came fourth with an ego-stroking eleven points. I would have come third, but I voted myself off the winner's podium through my own votes. Oh, the irony!
I did a fair bit of research for this particular cartoon and I think it shows. All in all, I'm pretty pleased with this one

A Little Bit Of Slapstick And Tickle.

On the eleventh of September 2017 this cartoon won the Cartoonists' Club of Great Britain's Caption Competition and all the entries may be found here. As I type it is 25th October 2017. This is how on the ball I am.
It was a wordless competition and the strict rules dictated that the entries must be comprehensible on an international level. So, no letters or numerals are allowed. This means no sound effects, or any other tools available to cartoonists, are permissible.
Now then. I have never understood this, to me, modern phenomenon of coulrophobia or irrational fear of clowns. I have loved clowns from a very early age purely because they made me laugh. What's not to love?
In the very late fifties or early sixties my father took me to the Bertram Mills Circus in Olympia in London where (and I don't know how he inveigled this) he introduced me to Coco the Clown - personally. As Coco shook my hand, and to my utmost surprise and delight, his hair lifted up! I repeat, what's not to love?
I took home a souvenir Coco the Clown plastic mask, but it was quite fragile and didn't last very long, but the memory and enjoyment of the meeting have lasted a lifetime.