February 2007 Archives

Life drawing with a handicap tonight. Tim (hi Tim) was babysitting a Rhodesian Ridgeback (hi Ash). At least he said it was a Rhodesian Ridgeback, only it was very obviously a mix of a Rhodesian Ridgeback and something enormous. And the poor puppy itself thought she was a lapdog, so sweet. She just sat down on top of every human being she could find. She chewed a corner off my sketch book. And put her head on my drawing in the middle of the long pose. Maybe I could have turned it into a water colour, but I only had pencils with me. Pencils and saliva don't really mix. Not even with Rhodesian Ridgebacks.

Then she says, "you don't read women authors, do you?"
Least that's what I think I hear her say,
"Well", I say, "how would you know and what would it matter anyway?"

"Well", she says, "you just don't seem like you do!"
I said, "you're way wrong."
She says, "which ones have you read then?" I say, "I read Erica Jong!"

So funny, I even bought an Erica Jong book on a flea market because of this song. I didn't read it though. Like the bottle of fabric softener I didn't use. That I bought after reading I.M. by Connie Palmen. So confess, in the comment box! Did you ever buy something because of a book or a song?
Posted by eliane at May 28, 2004 07:01 PM

Comments

Great question!
An obvious one: after reading Die Verwandlung by Kafka, I bought a T-shirt with a cartoonesque portrait of Kafka with a beetle creeping from his ear.
And the British band Placebo made an album called 'Black market music' with a track called 'Special K' - this song was censored in Great Britain because Special K is a type of drug - but I didn't know. Later on I found that Kellogs' Cornflakes has cereal called 'Special K'... and yes, i bought it.
It's good.
Posted by: Joli(e) at May 28, 2004 09:08 PM

I bought a viewmaster with a set of 3d pictures of dutch costumes for Sergei Paradjanov after seeing his film Arabeskebi Pirosmanis temaze at the Rotterdam Film festival. I went to see the film at least four times. The festival had organized a disussion with him, and when I finally was given the opportunity to ask him a question, he responded furiously "You! Like KGB, asking those questions!" Others in the audience started attacking me as well.

Posted by: Michiel at May 28, 2004 09:14 PM

Oh god, this is soooo embarrassing. And it's about wine, which I have been drinking a lot of tonight (I got paid for a freelance job in wine. Yum). Anyway....

I read Timothy Findley's last book last year, entitled "Spadework". What a piece of unadulterated crap. Such a sad way to leave the planet. But what really annoyed me about the novel was Findley's incessant name-dropping of the wine Wolf Blass Yellow Label all throughout the horrid novel. I am convinced that he made some illicit deal with Wolf Blass, not unlike the shameless product placement we witness in movies and tv shows all the time. Be that as it may, I thought, the hell with it, I'm gonna find out what this goddam Wolf Blass Yellow Label is all about. And wouldn't you know that it's a damn fine wine. And I still drink it. So as much as I found Findley's final novel to be utter trash, I totally fell victim to the not so subliminal seduction of Wolf Blass Yellow Label. Findley must be laughing in his grave.
Posted by: patricia at May 28, 2004 10:30 PM

I bought a Matrix phone, more than two years before I got to see the movie. Nokia had a special deal for journalists then. Though no-one who saw my phone believed that.

The only thing I can think of I bought because of a book is more books, by the same author. Though I did visit some places because I got to know their stories.
Posted by: ijsbrand at May 29, 2004 09:34 AM

After reading a short story by Julio Cortazar I was quite convinced I would be a great fan of Charlie Parker, even though I had never really liked Jazz before. I went to Concerto to buy an LP. The cover looked great. Charlie with a saxophone, leaning against a wall, wearing a white shirt.

I've tried, believe me I've tried, but it's just not for me.
Posted by: Richard Osinga at May 31, 2004 11:00 AM

I had no internet today, that made me feel really alone. And stupid as well, turned out all I should have done was restart the router. It took Michiel 30 seconds to get things going again, @#$%^&*!! But as things were, I listened to CIUT.FM all day, which was nice for a change. Especially the one hour they broad casted Radio Punjab. Yesterday's Italian sounds like Dutch compared to Punjabi. The only things I understood were the commercials, where I heard addresses and telephone numbers. And there was an overload of information about how to get tractor trailer and taxi licenses. No wonder I see so many Indian cab and truck drivers, the radio tells them to do that!

A Sunday dinner like it's meant to be. And ours wasn't half bad either, we felt like fries, and Michiel went to Zellers at half past five and bought himself a deep fryer! And made pepper/mustard steaks with the fries, mmm. And we didn't fight like in the scene above. Or otherwise. And don't worry, we don't understand Italian either, use your imagination. And there's more Amarcord on Youtube, just do a search, it's so beautiful.

My dear father-in-law Willem made the newspaper twice today! This is a very good thing because he always has a bottle-of-whisky-competition going on with his friend Gerard, about who makes it into the paper most. And Gerard is usually in the lead, he is a lung specialist, and medical anecdotes often get picked for publication. These old men, nothing better to do than constantly send their botherations to the newspaper. This time the science section called on its readers to tell whether the section had been of any practical or maybe even life saving use to them, in the celebrated 25 years of its existence. And Willem is saved by science on a daily basis, so this was an easy one for him.

"Our libido is a sublimation, or rather a materialization, incarnation, embodiment, of a desire to be known and know. From heart to heart. Even better: heart in heart." A novel about adultery, maybe being an author and a TV personality keeps Désanne van Brederode from cheating on her husband. Maybe my drawing in newspapers keeps me from cheating on my husband! I mean, it's our way of satisfying our desire to be known without having to do anything sexual. But I am carrying on.

Early this morning it was snowing so hard the other side of the street was hardly visible. And then I saw lightning, and heard thunder. Is that normal, snow-thunderstorms?! And then I went out with Orbit, and there was so much whiteness around me, and that combined with the dangerous atmospheric circumstances, can you guess? Bingo, migraine. Waves of SICK. I set myself down at the computer and focussed on the drawing, as motionless as possible. I am mighty glad I am done early. Michiel is doing fish smells in the kitchen. Al Gore was in Toronto today, I bet he caused the freak weather. Oh, and this drawing is for the NRC magazine, it's my first time in that one.

At long last I can offer a more serious guessing challenge. This is not a very well known face, I only knew him from the radio. The unsurpassed Avonden. But somehow my shortcut disappeared from my desktop, and the effing player that starts up from the website only loads a half an hour or so, and then starts over again. So I am working very concentrated, and suddenly I notice, shit, I heard this before. I hate Quicktime. It also sucks to watch TV programs in. As long as it buffers it keeps flashing black frames, so before watching I have to wait until the full program is buffered. Or I end up watching in Parallells, where I can at least use WMP. I wish the Dutch media would use Real. It is vital that I can keep in touch with Dutch culture.

I am not Groucho Marx, as of today I belong to a club that accepted me as a member. I am group blogging with a bunch of Dutch illustrators and comedians, we just all upload our latest masterpieces all the time. Fun, I like sharing, and I like it when others share with me. I've been told some more girls will join, it's a boys thing now, except for me. I've been admiring some of these boys for years, and there's a high NRC representation on Clogwork. I'm so glad they didn't call the thing Clogwork Orange...

Beautiful women are the hardest people to draw, I find. Very difficult to find their edges. It took me the full eighteen sketches to find this one's likeness, the bottom right one has got it. I don't always do exactly eighteen sketches, I just thought it would be interesting for the blog, since I had to sketch three authors in a row. In between, I have been fighting the war against dog hair. If you are ever going to get a dog, get one that doesn't shed. Get a Poodle. I've got dog hair on my chair, dog hair in the scanner, dog hair on my scans, dog hair on my bed, dog hair in my mouth, dog hair in my food, dog hair on my clothes, you get the picture. I was in the park chatting with another dog owner when a young tall handsome black guy came up to us. He must have been 16 or 18, I don't know. Could he ask us a question, sure. I just recently got a dog, and is there anything I can do about the shedding? Well, brush him. And vacuum. Vacuum a lot. Yes, said the other dog owner, You vacuum, it's Your Dog, You vacuum!!

They just don't stop coming back for more, but that was the plan all along. There have been times in my life that I didn't work so much, to put it mildly. And I made a simple decision at some point in time, when I wanted to start working harder. I was going to say yes to everything that would come along. I think I read that as an advice on an ADD website, but I don't have ADD, I don't have anything. But it seemed like a good idea, applying for jobs and putting myself out there is just not my thing. I want to wait until opportunity comes along. Everybody always tells you that is not the way to go about things, but it's my way. I did sometimes write an email, closed my eyes and pressed send, but that's all. If Mohamed doesn't want to go the mountain, wait for the mountain to come to Mohamed.

No need to guess, surely. A blind horse can see who this is. I'm going to do two more easy ones, and then later this week a more unknown face. M10 can already start meditating on that one. Busy times, I am all booked up until March 10. (Notice that rhyme.) Now I really know why we got Orbit, he is saving my life, no kidding. With the deep freeze outside, I would hardly get out of the house anymore, were it not for the dog. Or see people. Now at least twice a day I chat with all the other dog owners. And quite safe too, even in snow and ice, so many dog owners seem to be doctors! Very odd. And I learn a lot about dogs. Orbit is a Beagle/Shepard mix. Yesterday we met a Beagle/Husky mix. He had Orbit's colours, but his fur was almost 20 cm thick! I have also seen a Beagle/Chiwawa, that was a cutie pie, a mini-Orbit. And Beagle/Hounds, it's almost as if Beagle/Somethings are a breed on their own. Do you think there is Beagle in Connie?

I kind of expected Vrouwkje Tuinman to not be the opening article. I could say that Pfeiffer finds her poetry girly, but that would be simplistic. He is more delicate than that. Just look at my drawing, it reflects the impression her poetry made on me. A high I-can-relate-to-that content. Not bad, but not nearly as impressive as Eva Gerlach last week, hers is poetry with a capital letter. Vrouwkje is more hand written.

Last Tuesday I told you I had never won anything in my life, and then I started remembering all these things I did win. And it didn't stop there, a fantastic win came back to me, but this happened too long after writing the blog entry to add it. And it deserves a separate entry anyway. Alors. Back in the good old days the company Michiel works for used to be known for formidable parties. (Nowadays spouses aren't even invited anymore.) We had a party on a boat in the river Seine, we drank a whole barrel of beer on a raft on the river Isar, but those stories can go on my list. I want to talk about a christmas party in Knokke. Knokke has a beautiful casino, with an overwhelming Magritte mural. We started with dinner, I think, it could have been the other way around, doesn't matter. Dinner in a gigantic and packed concert hall, long tables, and waiters with mainly a lot of champagne, I don't even remember the food. We were a very international crowd, all very nice geeks from Tokyo, Los Angeles, Toronto, Italy, Spain, everywhere. And the rest of the packed concert hall full of Flemish over-devoted fans of Will Tura:

I wanted to upload this drawing a couple of hours ago, but as it often happens after working with the visual part of my brain for an extended time, I had no clue what to write. And this best-written-blog thing weighed on me too. Though I understand I am not *really* nominated because of my writing. I know now which juror must have nominated me, and the best-written category is the only category he is a juror for. In other words, he had no choice. Which takes some weight off my shoulders, because I like to write, and it's a way to practice my English, but I have absolutely no ambition in the field of writing. Though I did write a book some time ago, but that story is for another time. (My list of stories for another time is growing, the Queen Beatrix drawing, the book, and tomorrow I plan to write about the Casino in Knokke, remind me.) The juror. Wim Noordhoek. I am genuinely glad he likes me, because I have been listening to his radio shows for at least 25 years. His voice is as familiar as a family member.

Look what happened to me! I don't even know who is in that jury, I know next to nothing about this bloggy business, but I sure am proud! I have been nominated for best written Dutch weblog. I won't win, that's for sure. How on earth could a weblog written in English be the best written Dutch weblog? But even if I don't win the award, I'll cherish the nomination. I have never won a thing in my life, I only came in second for a few things. A drawing competition for the 1972 Olympics. I came in second for that. My drawing was exhibited in the Piazza mall in Eindhoven. And I came in second for best wrapped Sinterklaas present in school once. Claudia Greve was first. Come to think of it, it was a shared first prize! Oh, and that horrible rowing race I won, god I am a real champion. And one time I had to buy a birthday present for a friend real quickly, and there weren't any good stores in our neighbourhood, so I ended up buying her a lottery ticket. And she won 80 Deutschmarks! What did you ever win? (Did you notice that now that I am an official best written blog nominee, that I make an effort in writing something remotely interesting?)

Eva Gerlach last week was the first author in a long time who wasn't guessed right after I uploaded the sketches. So maybe I don't have to feel too inadequate after all, compared to my well read audience. Maybe this one isn't going to be guessed right either. Although she isn't nearly as publicity shy as Eva.

It was Michiel who spotted the All Stars, credit where credit is due. Piffin and I didn't even believe him. So we had an agreeable family DVD night. I can't say I would recommend watching Marie-Antoinette. It's a costume drama with so much costume that they must have forgotten about the drama part. But if you're into fashion, go see it. If you're into Marie-Antoinette, read the book. Now I would have thought that when they go through so much trouble dressing up hundreds of actors and god knows how many sets, it couldn't have been that much more trouble to put some effort in an engaging story line. We didn't even get to see her decapitation!

Arie van den Berg calls Eva Gerlach's poetry grand, and I am sure he is right. But I'd rather talk about the author at the bottom of the page. I am very happy I got to do Eva Gerlach in colour, don't get me wrong, but Herman! Herman Brusselmans! Why didn't they have me draw him! I would kill to draw Herman. Herman is a phenomenon. We have spent five years in Ghent, the same town Herman lives in. He was always really nice to people calling out to him in the street. Herman, autograph! That'll be 500 franks! I know a funny story about Herman. Part of his novel "Uitgeverij Guggenheimer" was set in a street around the corner from where we lived. In the novel a doctor lives in that street, and his daughter is a junkie punk whore. Now in real life, only one single doctor lived in that street. And he did have a daughter. She wasn't a junkie or a whore, but she certainly was a very extravagantly dressed punk. So one day, while chatting with the doctor's wife, I mention what I had read. The doctor's wife didn't immediately know what to say, but she looked pretty shocked. That same night after dinner, the doorbell rang. The doctor. Could he borrow the book. (He couldn't buy it, because a court order had banned the book. Herman had written about the pubic hair of a famous fashion designer. According to Herman it grew half way up her back, and the fashion designer had not appreciated that passage.) When the doctor returned the book I asked him what he thought. He told me he had told his daughter that this was what came of it, if you walk around looking the way she did.

I have to draw a sick child for the parental advice column. And researching how sick children get depicted, I realized sick children are a classic theme in painting. Of course I sort of knew that all along, but I just hadn't thought of it. Children used to be sick a lot, thank god those times have changed. I collaged together what I found. I like it when I get to do a real standard situation. Like the psychiatrist cartoon, I did one of those. Well, I never really do cartoons, but still. And the Odalisque. Madonna and child. Venus. I haven't done a desert island yet. I'd love to do a desert island cartoon. Well, I never really do cartoons, but still. Who can come up more standard situations? Or classic themes, if you'd rather do painting. I don't care about those differences.

A long time since my last life drawing session. Wednesday nights are not really that convenient. We had a black model tonight, that was hard work. Very different from drawing the Caucasian models I am used to. I don't think I ever drew a black model before, how odd. Proportions are different, the build of the head is very different, all the curves are in different places it seems. It was very useful, it forced me to really look, and assume nothing. I only show you an ultra short pose, the longer ones have too much struggle to be interesting. And he wasn't very good at sitting still, which didn't help. I wish we would have an Asian model next time.

From now on my authors will always be in full technicolor! And since my other regular illo thingies got turned to colour as well, it'll be a while before I have to do b&w again. I learned a lot doing so much b&w, before I started the parental advices and the portraits I had hardly ever done any.

And by the way, if you can't comment because of my blacklist, then please email me. Somebody did that today, she hadn't been able to comment for a while. I'm afraid she thought it was personal. Be assured I have never blacklisted any individual, it just happens when your name is caught in some spammer's URL.

Update: there is a real problem with the comments. I am going to figure out what it is. Until then, things will be very quiet on this blog.
Update 2: I temporarily disabled the blacklist, spammers ahoy! Comments are open.

This woman's haircut phobia must be worse than mine. I was listening to a BBC six Beatles documentary while sketching, how appropriate. And in the picture I am drawing from she is standing in front of this painting. I can't complain of a lack of inspiration. Oh, and we watched Live and Let Die, what a horrible movie. One to go, for Your Eyes only. I hope that one is better, but probably I won't even have time to watch. Michiel and Otger will have to watch it in exile, on the upstairs computer. And how is the weather? The weather is freaking cold! We took an autoshare car yesterday, and got groceries for the whole week, just like normal people. How luxurious, I made red cabbage and beef stew today. Michiel made pea soup yesterday, we have enough pea soup for an orphanage in the freezer now. I love winter food. But now I'm in trouble with the 10.000 steps business, not having to get groceries. I'm almost at 9000, and I am NOT going to walk around the block. It's minus 17 without the wind chill, thank you very much.

No, he is still not sick of them. Otger decided to watch each and every James Bond film, and we are at it. I think (hope) we're almost there. I like them a lot, if only as time documents. Last week or so we saw the worst one ever, I don't remember the story or the title, but it had a fantastic car chase through Las Vegas, pure eye candy. Tonight we watched one of the better ones, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, which is 1969. And it is so 1969. I smiled through the movie, the interiors! I suddenly saw what my stepmother was trying to do to our house during that time. Not that she was that artistic. But the interiors in the film are very conservative for the era. Nothing like Clockwork Orange, although that was also two years later. This James Bond has everything young stepmothers dreamed of in 1969. Mink coats, brick fire places, embroidered armchairs, crystal chandeliers, copper candle stands, cow bells, wood paneled study's, jewelry, fine dining, ski trips, negligees, true love and weddings. And Diana Rigg. How I remember those days! Even the style of illustration like in the picture above, it was all over the covers of girls books.

I don't understand why there is a controversy about whether this book is fiction or not. The main character is called Fix! I admit, my brain is simple. But I am glad it's a raving review, I have no doubt it's an amazing novel. I wish it was easier to get Dutch novels, I would read this one. According to Atte Jongstra nobody writes as delightful and funny as Fix anymore.

More fiction controversy. It's been all over the internet, especially in Toronto. But maybe it's new for my Dutch readers. Some students made a very real youtube thingy. The girl has already been promised an acting career, she's in all the talkshows. It's very well done I think.
Update: It's even worse!

And about this pedometer, it's a joke! I'm at 8000 steps before 10 in the morning. I have decided to regard it an insult, that my doctor wants me to do 10.000 a day.

Fallon & Rosof went to see a Robert Crumb exhibit - original drawings from the early ’60s to 2004 - in Philadelphia and took lots of pictures, I thank them for that. I already mouthwater seeing the images on Flickr, and can only imagine the experience of seeing a tangible Crumb sketchbook, and flipping through the pages: "The ’60s-era sketchbook is especially rich background material. It conveys the fertile imagination and manic exuberance of the artist once considered “just” a comic book artist but now embraced by the art world as our century’s Daumier, Goya or Brueghel."

The links on my previous Crumb post are still working, and still interesting.