Tuesday 24 July 2012

Fashion Illustration: Lane


Illustration by Dheborah

To serve or be a servant (for anyone that ever ordered raccoon soup at Fat Franks)


Photograph taken by Andrew.


I never knew the difference between 'being a servant' or 'to serve' until a Malaysian king said the words, "I would like some cheese."

"Cheese?" "You have got to be joking, " I said in disbelief. "I haven't got the keys to the kitchen. Where the hell am I going to get some cheese from?"

I was there to serve, but I wasn't his servant. I couldn't get the cheese and I felt particularly  uncomfortable saying, "Your Highness," so I said, "Sir, I can't find any cheese." If I was anywhere close to being a decent servant, I would have found some cheese and said, "Your Highness, your cheese." A good servant would have known this.



England II : Canals in the beautiful city of Bath.


England I : Roman baths as reconstructed by the Victorians in Bath.


Friday 13 July 2012

Photos of Dublin ( from the street 05) : St Patrick's Day



Irish Joanne and my friend Gary, a freelance sound-man that works with the Natural History department for the BBC, in the foreground.

Australian Zebra Finches

Trials of themed prints from charcoal drawings screenprinted over Erte.
dheborah


Zebra Finches (Taeniopygia Guttata) are found wild in the central regions of Australia. They eat small seeds and one of their favoured foods is millet. They are used to large, busy flocks and fly large distances. As pets, in small cages they will be found hopping from perch to perch, almost pacing: Boredom and monotony. As for all birds, keep the small bird cages for transporting them only.

Their colouring is varied and sometimes quite vivid. The male Zebra Finch has a deep red beak and bold coloured orange circles (side-burns). The females have an orange beak and may have side-burns but they will be softer or just a tiny stripe on either side of their beak. Two males can live together reasonably well but one may dominate a little and peck at the other occasionally. Both boredom and mites can cause the birds to pull out their own feathers. A white towel or sheet will attract the mites but must be washed daily.

If you ever wish to see a piece of architechtural genius, almost like an art instillation itself, allow the birds to make their own nest. They don't necessarily need to be mates. Breeders are inclined to use boxes or a ready made wicker nest. Birds have nest-making in their genetic make-up: they are better at making an amazing nest than humans, just believe me.

Try placing a large handful of shredded paper on the bottom of the cage in the evening as they are settling in. They will study it for hours. I did this a few days ago. By the second evening, one of the finches had cautiously started assembling pieces up in the highest corner of the cage, across two perches.By that evening the two birds had made a mountain of paper up one side of the cage.

The following afternoon, two fabulous birds were attempting different flying manouvres and they constructed a beautiful masterpiece of a nest with a curtain of paper threads to also sit beneath. On a final note, I do believe  that all birds should be left in the wild. No bird could possibly love a cage.

Friday 6 July 2012






This is one of the few portraits I have done where the model has clothing on. Simon is a great friend of mine and a good friend of a past beau. This charcoal piece was drawn while I was cooking a roast, the night before he moved into his new place. It is a reasonable likeness, considering that he had reversed into my little silver car and bent the front fender only a few days before. It has now been some time since we have had any contact…..I think because I had the audacity to ask if he "still hung out with midgets". I felt that his new (and rather height restricted) girlfriend had been a little rude. Simon is a handsome, athletic man and I rather liked him… he just liked putting his pencil in too many pencil cases. I should have known that a remark like that would severely stretch a friendship. Simon, who had  shared his Morton Bay bugs with me at the 'Red Orchid', didn't speak to me  for over a week when I did him a favour once by putting his washing in the tumble-dryer and shrunk his underpants. All of them. I said...and will say again.... I was really, really sorry.