snippets from my Amsterdam sketchbook

I have just returned from visiting Dan in Amsterdam...and it was so hard to leave. I want to live there. It is so beautiful. Me and my little bicycle would be so happy there.


While I was there we visited the Van Gogh Museum, and were particularly surprised by his Japanese influenced paintings (which we hadn't really seen before), but not so impressed with the layout of the gallery which meant you had to skip anything near the corners because they got so crowded. I suppose that is always an issue with galleries housing very famous works though. Van Gogh's letters can now be viewed online here.

We also popped into FOAM (the Fotografiemuseum Amsterdam) which had a really interesting exhibition of Leonie Purchas's work "In the Shadow of Things" exploring very honestly and intimately her mother Bron's OCD and its effect on her family. There was a huge range of work involved, from christmas family photographs from Leonie's childhood, as well as handwritten lists from family members and a film of around 12 minutes made up of stills of their home life. Slides were projected in a dark room, along with headsets to listen to family members talking about their experiences. It was really fascinating.
There was also an exhibition of Charlotte Dumas' photographs of animals, particularly dogs (entitled "Paradis") which had eyes so human and expressive.

I had a wander to a little artist bookshop called Boekie Woekie which was full of a large variety of handmade books. However, there weren't that many illustrated books, which is what I was hoping for (I suspect there were lots I overlooked, there are bookcases crammed full of little books) They were mostly text-based and in Dutch. There was one set of books which really stood out for me - 3 little concertina books, of around A6 size, with wooden covers and screenprinted illustrations inside. They were utterly lovely.

I also went to Huis Marseille which was showing a retrospective of Fazal Sheik's photographs, particularly focused on his portraits of refugees. I particularly liked this photograph which followed on from a whole wall of portraits of women dressed in pattered materials and headscarves - the various patterned markings on the doves seemed to mimic their clothes.

And an astronaut could've seen the hunger in my eyes from space

(From "The Missing Book", a book I made for Dan.)




sample spread:

NB: True story.
I dreamt about the biscuit during "The Postmodern Life of my Aunt".
It probably matched my dream about diagrams of acute and obtuse angles for sheer excitement and imagination.

pictorial calligraphy

(self portrait)

Bobby D

Bob Dylan

(I think I'm going to have to divide my portfolio into two styles, my painting style and my drawing style, as they are just so different, and I don't want to give up on either of them.)

a birthday card for my cousin Amy

underpainting

We are nowhere, and it's now

(a portrait of Conor Oberst which I've just finished)

Ida Tweedle

The engine owl

We cut to an excavation scene, in the icy tundras of MOUNT MOD MOON MONO TUTU...

...where a rather large bum is sticking up in the air...
...the bottom of a certain Sir Hugo Clarence Washington-Smythe.

ASSISTANT (IDA TWEEDLE)

Sir, look, I think... I cannot say for sure, but I do believe I have unearthed the mythical Engine Owl of Ancient Zion!

SIR HUGO CLARENCE WASHINGTON-SMYTHE

Oh, that! I discovered that, back in uh... back in uh... the day...

Sir Hugo: give it here, right this minute, or I'll have you tried for high treason and perverting the course of justice!
Sir Hugo: I'll have your wages cut, and other things cut that you wouldn't care to be... cut.

ZOLUMBOO (Narrator)

Now I'm no detective... oh wait! I am!... but I think that guy's a phoney! Wait, something important's happening, let's get back to the story!

ASSISTANT (IDA TWEEDLE)

With all due respect, Sir, you can't claim every victory!

Ida Tweedle: I found that owl fair and square, and you've spent the whole day sitting on your oversized rump, hogging the hot water bottles and moaning about the cold! From now on I will be working for myself. Hmph!

SIR HUGO CLARENCE WASHINGTON-SMYTHE

Don't talk to me like that! I'll decide how this story ends!

He takes a large dark starry book from his coat and and unlocks it with a rusty key.

Ida turns slowly, and sees the open pages like mirrors.
We see her face reflected in the mirrors and then the empty space where she once stood.


Washington-Smythe holds the book up triumphantly.

SIR HUGO CLARENCE WASHINGTON SMYTHE

Now I've trapped you, you'll never steal from me again.

Sir Hugo: You're nothing but a fictional character, doomed to spend the rest of your days in writing.

IDA TWEEDLE

[HER WORDS APPEARING AS TEXT ON THE PAGE OF THE BOOK] You can take that smug look off your face.

Ida Tweedle: Your precious artefact is with me, Washington-Smythe. The engine-owl is fictional too now.