Nine months.

Well. There are some things that take nine months that I swear would be less exhausting than what we've just been through. And which probably keep you awake at night less, in the long run.

On January 9th, with the snowflakes flurrying down around his t-shirt, Mark (the builder) dug his spade into the land next to our house. In the time since then, we've lived in a rented flat for four months, watched a digger being driven around the kitchen, made friends with the concrete mixer installed in the living room, watched a corner of the house demolished, lived at my parents' house for month, slept on various floors, worked on a cardboard-box-desk, baked a hundred cakes, and driven the length and breadth of the country in pursuit of the right bits for our majestic new space.

A fulsome report will follow. But here are some details in the meantime. We're exhausted, but we're in, and it feels good. Watch this...new space.

The Prince Of Mist

For some reason I never got around to blogging this, though I was extremely pleased with the result.

This is the first fiction book I've ever done internal illustrations for. I've done recipe, diet and childcare books with internal illos, but not fiction. And this one's a goodie - not only is Carlos Ruiz Zafon Spain's biggest-selling children's author, his writing is excellent and is widely read by his growing adult audience. This was his first book published in the UK - the children's version is shown left, the adult version on the right.

There was a giant list of these images, which were drawn at twice the scale using a very fine steel nib, a Nikko G from Japan, of which I have a stack brought back for me from my friend Dick. They were intricate and very specific, and required a fair few re-draws (especially the cat, whom we just couldn't get looking mean enough) but the end result I was pleased with, as they straddle the line between dark and sinister and childish intrique.

The story itself however is satisfyingly too close to the macabre - there is a malevolent clown, and shapeshifter, a murderous magician, and terrible things happen which you won't find in your typical Disney-esque story. I loved it, and can't wait to read whatever he writes next. I do a lot of chick-lit and beach-read covers, which are fun to do but definitely aren't my choice of read, so it's very satisfying to illustrate for something I could get my teeth (and claws) into.

What do you think of them?

'I'm afraid we love your work but we've decided to...'

I like to post these occasionally - those pieces you're pleased with but are strangled at birth, forever to languish in the archive! Most I can't show - client or agency protocol prevents me from doing so (which is why you'll never see the campaign I did for Tiffany the jewellers!)

Book covers however, of which I've now done over 120, are subject to so many layers of approval that even Time Team would sometimes have trouble excavating to the bottom. Covers are affected by the supermarket buyers, the editor, the art director, publisher and, on occasion, the author. I've done as many as 33 versions of a single cover. I've even done whole lectures based on this very subject! Here are a few juicy examples rescued from the dusty shelves, together with their individual Death Sentences.

'We've Gone For A Font':
This one we worked on for weeks only to have the whole thing swapped for a font and a figure of a girl. Nice colours but...shame eh?


In fact the font line is one I hear depressingly often. Oh, if I had a pound...here's a classic example. This is a new book due out sometime next year in the US - and these were my offerings based very tightly on their brief. They're a bit 'old-school Mole', but I enjoyed them nonetheless:


'We're Going In A Totally Different Direction'
Debbie Holt's series is currently being repackaged. Her covers are currently very womanly and gentle, so this was an important update for her. Let's see how the final books look - you never can predict! They won't, however, look like this:


Under the category 'We're Going In A Photographic Direction', are these. The Lonely Hearts Club was written by the publisher of the original Twilight books, and I was pleased with this cover for her, one of four versions. Below that is the actual cover they went with.


And finally for today's batch, this one went on for months and there are 33 versions of this cover, done in three sessions over about four months. I like a lot of these - and it must be said the brief metamorphosised throughout - but it was with regret that the patient art director (usually the diplomatic go-between!) finally rang and said...'we're going for a...' - you guessed it!

Shown are three of the 33, and the published cover.




Books can be one of the most satisfying things to do, but also the most disheartening. The trick is to not take it personally and think of it as fresh art for the folio. Except when Sainsbury's declare they won't sell a book if it goes to press with your cover on it, and decide to suggest 'their own ideas'...but that's for another blog!

Inkymole Is Running For Cash, Part Two: Runner No. 14749

It's been two months since I put up Part One of this blog. And in that time, there's been a large amount of running of course (this month I hit two 'highests': longest run and most amount of miles in a month), but what's been really fascinating is all the psychological wrangling.

You see I knew this would be hard work on the legs. Obviously. But I'm surprised that it's been relatively easy to raise my distances from where I was in June (about 5 miles for an average run) to 'nearly-there'. What I should have predicted though, but didn't, was the BRAIN's role in gearing up for the 13.1 miles in October.

I go to the gym for weight training and have done since I was 23. Many times over those years I've slacked off, made no progress for weeks, then been reminded that your body will more or less do what you need it to - but only if the brain allows. I've been tricked into lifting 20 extra pounds, or accidentally put 5kg on extra by accident, and still lifted the weight: because the brain thinks nothing is different, it just gets on with the job. And that's how I've had to look at it: it's a job I've got to get on with like any other. But training has been tricky to maintain in a zen-like flow because it only takes a pressured workload, a headache, or something that's really worrying me, and the Control Centre sends out 'woah! this is hard!' messages.

Remember this little fella? The tiny alien that sat inside the big alien's head was in charge of everything, and when he got tired or injured, the big fella struggled. That's what happens to me. Look at his tired little eyeballs. So the focus lately has been on looking after this chap, and making sure he's calm and ready in his tiny cockpit.

Rather apt then that I'm running for Mind. The brain is just so powerful, yet staggeringly fragile too. At the start, my aim for the half marathon was merely to survive it; now I'd like to do it with some style - not fast, since that's another issue and another blog! - but with a certain amount of confidence and dignity.

We're up to £544 - but I've promised to raise a grand. Thank you hugely for all the dosh so far; people have been embarrassingly generous. Go here to tuck some of your own cash into the waistband of my slightly worn-out running shorts: http://www.virginmoneygiving.com/inkymole

Or here to read about what Mind is, and what they do: http://www.mind.org.uk/about

Kinky boots.

I've just done these illustrations for internal use at Macy's department store New York. I was a bit smitten with them, but these are actually the rejected ones!
The real one is very similar but I don't like it as much. They're size 4 by the way...

Natural History Museum.

In January I did this illustration for the Natural History Museum in London. They needed a fresh image for their own-range giftware, and this was created using fineliner pens and time spent in the Museum itself, along with hours poring over their massive photo library. It's finally in the museum so I'm allowed to share it!

The illustration had to summarise the enormity and breadth of their collection along with the unique architecture of the building. Creating this illustration combined everything I love to do: observe and study nature, draw challenging new things (ie: "animals are not my strong point!") and work in a detailed and accurate way, while being invited to flavour the image with my own style and atmosphere.




For the curious, featured in the illustration are the following species and elements:

Insects:
Ladybird
Long-tongued bumblebee
Asterope Lepreuri Butterfly
Jackson's Leaf Butterfly
Stag Beetle
Silver Chafer Beetle
Ant
Great Raft Spider

Animals:
Dippy (whole)
Dodo
American Black/PolarBear
Newt
Hippo
Blue Whale
(There are two more dinosaurs, one skeletal and one whole (Bronto?) but I've lost the notes for these! Maybe you can advise?
Assorted bird eggs

Birds:
Hummingbird

Fish:
Crucian Carp
Trout

Plants:
Giant Fern
Lily
Paeony
Pansy
Cyclamen
Ivy
Snowdrop
Tulips
Sequioa
Forget-me-knot

Minerals/Gems:
Koh-i-Noor diamond replica
Pearl
Turquiose
Zircon
Tourmaline
Benitoite
Fool's Gold
Agate

Funghi:
Fly Agaric

Shells:
Stellaria Solaris
C. Varia

Human:
Homo Erectus skull
Charles Darwin
Australopithecus Boisei skull
Human embryo

Assorted generic specimen jars and notebooks
Earth Gallery and other architectural details
Volcano cross-section

Images are shown on my website here.

and you can buy the NHM's illustrated goodies here.

Central Illustration Agency

The Central Illustration Agency have just published this beautiful book showcasing all their artists. And I never thought I would be able to say 'I'm one of them'.

That's not some special faux-blog-modesty talking there. Nope, I mean it. I mean it because CIA represent some serious time-served people I admire and look up to as masters of their art - Peter Horridge, Sir Peter Blake, Andrew Bannecker, Paul Slater, David Hughes, Jeff Nishinaka to name a handful. I also say it earnestly because I've happily put in the hours, grafting away at a job I love for many years, to get to the stage where I might be able to sit in the company of these artists, and the relationship I have with Ben, Jules, Rhiannon and Alicja is rather special to me. Long may it continue!


Here's what the press release says:

License To Inspire is an eclectic mix of stunning artwork and fascinating interviews from the world's most talented illustrators and industry innovators. An invaluable resource for art buyers and other professionals within the creative industries, this will soon become a recommended text for art students and particularly those who wish to work in the industry. With inclusions from a diverse range of artists from Jonas Bergstrand to Sir Peter Blake, the book is packed with beautiful images and thought-provoking words. Created by the acclaimed Central Illustration Agency, who have been associated with the brightest talent in illustrative art since 1983, this book will be an essential addition to any coffee table or agency library.

"Illustration has been arguably the liveliest art form of this decade, and CIA have been right in the centre of it. This book paints a brilliant and lively portrait of the world, the art and the business of contemporary illustration." Marc Valli, Elephant magazine & Magma.



You can buy a copy on CIA's website.
or from the ever-reliable Amazon.

Hey doll.

I cleared out and re-organised the toy display last week, and all the toys that could go in the washing machine, did. Those that couldn't had their clothes removed and were bathed by hand in the kitchen sink, since they were covered in plaster dust (I omitted to cover them before work started!)

I was struck by a couple of things. First, I only had three baby dolls, all Tiny Tears, one of whom was stolen from the pram, the other two given away so there are none of those. Second, all my dollies have shoes and pants. It's a long time since I put that many tiny pairs of knickers out to dry. And third, how many of the clothes me and my Mum made ourselves.

We were very short of resources, but Mum could sew anything, and in fact made all of our clothes herself. This was not out of choice, but it did mean that anything she made, she could make at one-eighth of the size, and that meant that by the age of 11, I could too.

This is a version of Lady Diana's wedding dress which we made for the Royal Wedding. Her train was measured to be the same proportional length as Diana's, and her flowers were correct. I thought about cutting her hair...but thankfully resisted. She also has a crystal head-dress.
Fifteen years later, Mum made this version of my emerald velvet bridesmaid's dress worn at my best friend's wedding. We wore boots and thick tights for the December 27th wedding, and had an identical bouquet. She also made an exact copy of Jules' wedding dress, which she still has.
Check Sindy's flares. The jeans were bought, but the blouse was made. Those shoes were the easiest to fall off and I'm astounded I still have them both.
Glamourous brunette Sindy, a ballerina by trade, wears a hand-made fur-collared cape lined with the same black lace as the halter neck dress beneath. And of course, black strappy shoes.
For a more relaxed occasion, Sindy wears a crocheted pink mohair polo neck with shop-bought jogging bottoms.
This Sindy wears the yellow moccasins, because she is an adopted one, and as such bears the scars of a pet dog who likes doll feet.
Purrrrrr! Glamour. Knitted sparkly halter-neck with lace trim and blue slip-ons. And...a haircut NOT by me. Another adopted Sindy.
As well as the dolly clothes I made toys. This is Shrew and Shrew, one made about a month after the other. They've never been apart and came to France with me aged 11, when David Rinaldi dangled one aloft over the side of the ferry and threatened to drop. He didn't, but he's still quite the b*stard for showing such cruelty.
And finally, these bonkers creations were found in Grandma's house after she died. We don't think she made these clothes - she was NOT the crocheting type - but there's such attention to detail I had to keep them. They have matching turquoise knickers and check the little tiny slippers. Pair of hard gits, these boys.
Finally, I didn't make this - this was a compensation gift from Grandma when my sister was born, so I didn't feel she was getting all the attention. Or at least that's how I remember it.
I love the box. And it's mine, look - it says so!

Pelham Puppets:
http://www.ppo.co.uk

Sindy:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sindy

http://www.sindydolly.com/