Do You Wanna

I certainly don't. Yet I've been forced into it, you see. You don't see? That's fine. This will be an ABSURDLY SHORT post - because my entire week was a big massive fat nowt. As usual the line between life and art is seperated by two DISTINCTLY DIFFERENT COLOURS. This one for life - this one for art. Fairly simple isn't it? No? That's fine.

With nary a moment's thought I set to the doctor's on Monday to be told that the reason for agonies was simply that I was AN ENORMOUS PIG, medically speaking. "Tell me something I don't know doc" I yelled. Her response was brief and fairly cruel. Move it or lose it. Or do both. I opt for the neither but agree to watch my intake. Not too closely. Success then.
As stated previously my week was as rotund and useless as myself - did a bit of a bar crawl on Thursday around the old aleries of industrial Sheffield. The greatest was the Kelham Island adjacent Fat Cat -a very tall Victorian affair with different rooms and lots of good ales.

This is a fat cat. Probably not in the Fat Cat.

Last night I went to a gig to see the ASTOUNDING Northern Oak and various other folky-battlemetally type band. As always, the genre ain't my cup of tea - but I love Northern Oak unconditionally - also another act were particularly good - Andraste - who has mandolins and all manner of other agreeable celtic boogies to their sound. Also Alex Sotheran was there being old and crabby and old. His writes a blog that's won him the awards of Iceland and the hearts of many.
It's been a slow damn week for art. I drew a rather elaborate picture that I intend to spent some time over, but you just passsed a preview above. Just to whet yon beaks and faces. Also for the first time PICTURES of the momentous Saturday Owen in Rock nineties show -


look at us. God we're metal. That's Mr Rob Dillon and Adam Page joining me in my posing. Crikey.
Finally - as I've said variously in different places - I'm in the midst of producing AN FANTASY EPIC LOLZ in the medium of audio. THERE'S AN EXCLUSIVE PREVIEW HERE Nice - but it's weeks away from completion. Will update you on it's progress.

That was longer than I thought it was going to be. How time flies by - and the echoed words of a thousand strangers grow fainter and fainter over the howling winds of the void that steadily nears. SEE YOU ON THE 22nd!!!

Art is here
Audio is here
Dan Shandy is here
Radio show is here

O - x

Honeysuckle Love

...is the most twee name for a post ever don't you think? - and possibly the least relevant. That's the power of shuffle for you. What a week - what a HELL OF A WEEK. I'm about to tell you about it now. Are you ready?

How unfortunate. You've forgotten the RULES already. I'll reiterate; life is in this colour, art is in this one. It's quite simple really - I'm not quite sure how you forgot in the first place. CACKMINDEDNESS I'm sure. Let's forget our troubles with a big blog post.

A week of unrelenting laziness - the chipper and exciting baroness of humour Dawn Hadley had marked one of my mid-term essays. Apparently difficult to read. Construct sentences badly apparently. Don't think possible it is. My sentences are perfect. Per

Dawn correcting THE LORD OF ALL CREATION on his sentence construction. In a field.

Fect. My other mid-term I failed to get back because I went out for pie with my visiting brother. He is a gimp - but a fairly lovable one. I'd link you somewhere but I have no idea where he works from these days. Used to have a blog (a bit less exciting than this one) but that's now vanished. He's on twitter I think. Twitter is shite. That is all. The rest of the week was consumed with bizarre and vague pain that is yet to subside. How tiresome. Oh and today I went on AN ADVENTURE - it was BRILLIANT - I went to ALL MANOR* OF EXCITING PLACES.

I was in there. It was fantastic.















*this was a pun. Did you enjoy it?

Artistically this week yielded sparse but enjoyable products. Firstly - last week I recorded a new audio thing for Crazy Fox Machine (there's a link at the end, or if you're a sharp cookie you'll have gone along that thar hyperlink) which is an unfinished thing half written by me and half by my SOULMATE Robert John Phillips Esq - laird of Brightonshire. Also I began working on a FANTASY EPIC that will see the light of day in 2010 or so. Look out for the teaser poster that I probably won't draw.
Something I definetly did draw was a tailpiece to that big 'Stark' montage of the other week - the final design of the character which DOMINATED the top of the post up there. Looking rather funky. ICEFUNKY.
Finally - whether you can call this art or not - Saturday's Owen in Rock radio show is available online at THIS LOCATION which is nice. It was set within the eighties and guest-starred the handsome goth icon and all-round rock soc financial fellow; Mark Jones.

Right. Out of that filthy mosscolour and goodbye with you. I'm going to wrestle with my belly and hope that it'll see sense and SHUT UP. Also sleep - tons of sleep. See you on the 15th - with a more SUNNY OUTLOOK (although it'll still be fucking cold I'll warrant).

Radio Be Here
Art Be Here
Audio Be Here
Dan Shandy and the Shambling Dandies Be Here

O - x

Wrath of God

....................EEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It's a healthy thing to begin a blog with a metal scream. If there were a single god (and not the pantheon of mighty chaos gods that I believe in) I'm certain the thunderous blustering wind is absolutely sod all to do with him - nor the bubbling stomach acid attacking my insides - nor even the massively disappointing Halloween last night. No, his wrath would most certainly take the form of this blog. Wrathfully dull. OHOHOHO. AS PER USUAL life cloaks itself in this colour, whilst art is more comfortable in this one. On with it then -

As previously alluded to; last night's halloween was a cop out. Local metal club Corp was STUFFED to the brim and I was far too unwilling to pay five bloody pounds to get in so settled for going home with the housemates and watching the evening fizzle out around me. Costume was literally brilliant though. Don't have a good picture, but it was purple. Oh lawdy mamma it was purple. I think I shall take to wearing it around the town. The rest of the week was gloriously unoccupied by work as I SAUNTERED ABOUT not doing much.

Artwise it's been a bit of a blinder - spent almost the ENTIRE WEEK shading this enormous picture (below) which montages the evolution of a character named Stark from something that hasn't happened yet. Oh yeah. Fourth radio show of the term featuring Mr Sean Morley IV went well, and recorded two sketch for it that'll turn up at some point. ...oh Yeah and Dan Shandy and the Shambling Dandies have four new songs about. Pretty wicked. Pretty FUCKING wicked.

That's it then. Brief wasn't it? Like life. Brief and unemotional - but then would you read a blog that was all OH GAWD IT WAS TERRIBLE TODAY [X] DIDN'T TALK TO ME AND SO FORTH? No - you wouldn't. It would be boring - and the person you'd want to read couldn't give a monkey's arse anyway. So why write? It's that ego isn't it - ?! That bloody massive ego. Sod it. See you on the 8th kiddies.

O - x

So Tired

Right - on with the blog. Although writing even the shortest sentence has now become an extreme ordeal following many straight hours of essay-writing. Grammar Check. Grammar is fine. Sigh. ...although that was a whole mess of fragmentary sentences right there. As USUAL life is in this colour and art is in this one. Divided - like the hearts and minds of our generation. Hyperlinks are usually hidden about this place in different colours. I'm sure that was one. Although I wouldn't click it if I were you.

So. Life. As I had previously implied, I've fallen into an essayhole so deep you couldn't find the sides with an ol' time pokin' stick. And shit me my pokin' stick is nigh on six yards long. These troublesome essays have doomed me to a week inside away from society and I have been branded a worrisome communist by terrifyingly serious neo-nazis. Finally finished my first piece of work last night at almost the exact time I found out it's marker, Dr Dawn Hadley, is a fan of Reeves & Mortimer. Was very tempted to write some quotes at the end - although I know that this isn't that kind of world - and in the thirteen years since her profession of Reeveslove she's probably grown disenfranchised with the beast. I could slip the Catterick DVD into the report...

Is the divide too great between Hadley and Vic & Bob? Potentially.

CHRIST! I did so very little art this week, but before the essayhole fully consumed me I managed to hurl a small piece out. You can see it below - and I'm rather happy with it. Although you may be asking the same question as I do everytime I see it... "Prawns or scorpions?" You decide. Heartbreaking really. Third radio show of the term with guest fellow Mr Chris Nolan-Rennie Esq (who also produced a trophy with little-to-no prawn/scorpion confusion). The show has since been lost in the fabric of time and so those who missed it TRULY MISSED OUT. But you can still go and gander at the setlist and dream of what it must've sounded like. Also I vaguely adapted my VISUAL SCREENPLAY 'Nothingman' into more of an AUDIO PLAY which is bizarrely titled 'To Be Loved' for reasons that I'm not quite sure about. Here be an extract - -

Flint: Oh that days like these are mine to witness - ! How quickly the owl of love is frozen, quivering so near to the motorway of lust. I saw it didn’t I? A glimmer in her eye – a desire for Flint?! OH SWEET FLINT – How wouldst thou stand in a court of friends, surrounded by a jury of just Foster? An eagle eye penetrating the intentions of my heart –

Scott is suddenly there

Scott: Who are you talking to?

Flint: - WHERE’S MY BISON, SCOTT?

Scott: I –

Flint: I instructed you to fetch forth a bison, now BRING IT lest I RENT YE ASUNDER

Scott: Blimey no! – I’ll fetch it for you o’Flint

He scarpers

Flint: Aye, that he had. For the bison will be the zenith of my scheme to capture the heart of Retok Armbaland.

Dramatic organ chord. Fade out.

Shit yes. Oh the font is black now. I suppose it's the end of the blog this week. Shame. Before I go - gander at yon trophy...

...prawns or scorpions... Oh. Sorry - right - see you on the THRILLING FIRST DAY OF NOVEMBER.

Art Be Here
Audio Be Here
Radio (Normally) Be here

O - x

Present Tense

You can spend your time alone

Redigesting past regrets, Oh
Or you can, come to terms and realize
You're the only one who cannot forgive yourself, Oh
Makes much more sense to live in the present tense

The fifth weekly blog kicks off in gloriously melodramatic form. Thanks to AMAZING OLD ALEX for mentioning me in his most recent post (BY THE WAY - UNDERLINED IS HYPERLINKS - CLICK THE BUGGERS AND THEY'LL WHISK YOU TO BEAUTIFUL NEW WORLDS). So, to reiterate for the brain-dead and liver-alive; LIFE is the colour of BLOOD and ART is the colour of FIELDS.

The second constructed wall-planner is a lot neater, but still acts as a cruel cardboard mausoleum to all the work I should've done. Still not panicking though - which has got to be a good thing. Sunday night was Vic Reeves, who was entertaining and I purchased his book - which is HILARIOUS. Better than your Mock the Week patrons who've been floating around the city dully these past few days spewing tired ironies at guffawing morons. Reeves himself was a glittering baron of the bizarre, his book full of art and glory (my particular favourite is the page on houseflies, who converse with the devil). A highlight was Reeves leaning over to the interviewer and enigmatically announcing "...the moon, my friend, is evil" before detailing his plans to stab it down. After that me and my merrie fellowes marched home via Northern Oak who were on top form despite the attempts of West Street Live to level them into nothing. You cannot silence folk, my friends. The other thing I did this week was SUDDENLY deciding to go out and see UP in 3D which was interesting but certainly not up to the superior quality of say... BRAD BIRD'S glorious bloody films. The first ten minutes were extremely well done as many of the weeping glass-adorned sods that filled the cinema will attest. Interesting to see a 3D kids film tackling... miscarriage. Yikes.

"It gets no better than this..."(the first ten minutes of Up)

This week my art has been side-lined into the vague design of a trophy, the inevitable lecture sketchings and the colouring of other people's lines (see below). The second Owen in Rock with special guest Adam "Progman" Page went quite well despite the studio intrusion of space rats. It had to happen I suppose. Listen again is UP finally and can be heard AT THIS LOCATION. Next week will be the sixties, which I'm finding difficult to fill up with long songs and things that will actually work. As is the challenge that faces ALL DJs ALL OF THE TIME.















The Ice-man of Reykjavik was drawn by Mr Christopher Nolan Rennie and the Sycophant by Senor Joe Richards.








Well that's it. I hope you're pleased (OR DISAPPOINTED) that I avoided the melodrama I so easily could've inserted between every line. I wrote rather a lengthy and pretentious poem last night that I was tempted to insert here - but no, I thought it would DRIVE YOU INSANE. Do I get any thanks for sparing you?! NO. Never. Bastards. Now to clean the bloody house and do some bloody work and continue sitting bloody down. See you on the 25th for some pre-deadline japery.

Art be here
Audio be here

O - x

Traveler in Time

The morning sun I feel
all pain and sorrow
the apparition of my words in these days
makes me feel I've told them before

Fourth blog. Glory be. It's like we've living in some kind of ludicrous world where I write blogs every fucking Sunday. To reiterate; events outside of art are in THIS COLOUR - and events within the walls of artistic endeavor are THIS COLOUR. That's it. You don't need to know anymore. Stop reading. Oh my god did you stop reading?! How foolish.

Two weeks into lectures and I'm still not fully taking in JUST HOW BLOODY MUCH there is to do. I drew myself up an enormous wall-planner which planned out my workload within the week and promptly did NONE OF IT - so now it sits on the wall as a testament to all the work I haven't done. The first Peroxide was on Wednesday, went relatively well and DOOMGOAT was well received. Ohhhh yeah. Saw STAR TREK last night - was literally just a ton of lens flares and cliches with vague Star Trek leanings.

Crew member: Should there be tons of lens flares!? J.J. Abrams: Make it so


Drawing has again been relegated to elaborate doodles during lectures (me and Chris had a T-Rex drawing competition - thanks to some random lady I was proclaimed the winner, then I gave her the drawing as a prize for voting and so there's no evidence of my dino triumph). Did two radio shows over the past week - one last Monday wasn't broadcast, but I did record it and it lies waiting for the news about whether the RockSoc website can host it. The Saturday one was the triumphant return of Owen in Rock (although no bugger actually told me) so I composed the setlist very randomly mere hours beforehand. I had a few listeners, it's not on 'play again' so it's brief shining light will be LOST FOREVER. Anyhow - the final crowning artistic achievement of this week can really only be REYKJAVIK the new hit single by Dan Shandy and the Shambling Dandies. Lovely bunch o' lads.

"Listening to Dan Shandy and the Shambling Dandies is like REALLY AMAZING SEX" Anonymous, 2009

That's that done for this week. Hope you enjoyed the trawl through the mundane and the marvellous. Now I'm going to spend a few hours getting dolled up for VIC REEVES this evening. Fuck yes. Oh Crikey crikey yes. See you on the 18th.

Art be here
Audio be here

O - x

Guts

The sun is burning my face
My insides running a race
I need somebody with soul

Yarg. My third blog. Sweet - as is the RULE; life is in THIS COLOUR and art is in THIS ONE. Pretty sweet, eh? What times we live in.

First week of lectures were LITERALLY RIDICULOUS. Dumped upon our precious heads were tons and tons of narky and 'orrible demands. Promptly I lied to my dissertation supervisor about the work I'd done and the whole of my week's work was underpinned by a deep weight of lies. LYING LIES. Lies are filthy. Anyhow - punctuating this tide of UNFORGIVABLE DISHONESTY I made several purchases that made me much happier; one was these fine graphic novels and the other was a ticket to see a certain Mr VIC REEVES LIVE promoting his new book. All of the previous entries vague and mysterious melodrama has dried up and left things rather dull. So I sit and wait. Oh...and do some fucking work. I should do some work.

Two personae responsible for brightening up my week - Mr Reeves (as always) and the astonishingly fucking brilliant artwork of D'israeli aka Matt Brooker.

Right - in terms of art I've finally gone in yesterday to print of Mr Chris Mole's astonishing Ice Age plot with hopes to doodle on it thoughtfully throughout the week. Also I've been sketching quite feverishly depending on the proximity of my drawin' book to my lecture notes - and often just on the lecture notes, although most of them are on lined paper and so look quite unappealing scanned in. There are some below. Yikes.
I went in at the end of the week and applied for the re-freshin' of my radio show - if all goes well it'll be back hopefully on the weekend, with the same name and same DEDICATION TO THE DECADES - albeit now injected with a fistful of my obsessive systems. Joy. Again, me and Mr Adam Progman are doing a sort of 'proto-schedule' show with lots of diverse and beautiful nonsense. Find that on Forge Radio tomorrow at six-thirty to eight. Nice... ...REALLY nice.

























Thar she blows. Done for this week - thanks for reading if you did - not sure what to say to those that didn't. Just know that I'm hurt beyond recognition. See you on the 11th.

Art be here
Audio be here

O - x