Not sure where this sinister character has crept from…
I just came across this little collection while having a tidy up. This seems to be the length my pencils get to before being relegated to the dreaded Drawer Of Bits. Surprisingly consistent.
Not long go I was stuck in an office with very little to do and an unspecified amount of time stretching indefinitely ahead. Sketching out the desk tidy while I waited was an interesting exercise. It reminded me that drawing for its own sake can be rewarding in itself and anything, no matter how boring or mundane, can be valid subject matter for sketching. In this case getting lost in the tiny details of the desk tidy was a pleasantly creative endeavour that was more about the process and the doing of it than the final end product, which is hardly inspiring. It also helped pass a sizeable chunk of time. That ruler is too short though.
This is a picture from ‘The Cabbage-Patch Mother,’ another story in the collection ‘There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill her Neighbour’s Baby’ by Ludmilla Petrushevskaya. The sentence conjured up the image so vividly I had to get it down on paper. Because the tales are translated from the Russian I made the matchbox Russian too.
‘The girl’s mother took out a matchbox she kept in her breast pocket, and out of this matchbox she took half of a hollowed bean, and in that cradle, wiping the sleep from her eyes with her tiny little fists, sat a tiny little girl.’
This was another scene from Carson McCullers’ book ‘The Heart is a Lonely Hunter‘ that really stood out. It’s one of those tragic moments when idle childish games suddenly lead to serious, grown-up consequences, and everything changes forever.
‘Bubber had put his slingshot in his pocket and now he played with the rifle. Spareribs was ten years old and his father had died the month before and this had been his father’s gun. All the smaller kids loved to handle that rifle. Every few minutes Bubber would haul the gun up to his shoulder. He took aim and made a low pow sound.
‘Don’t monkey with the trigger,’ said Spareribs, ‘I got the gun loaded.’ …
‘Lookit,’ said Bubber suddenly. ‘Here comes Baby again. She sure is pretty in the pink costume.’
Baby walked towards them slowly. She had been given a prize box of popcorn candy and was reaching in the box for the prize. She walked in that same prissy, dainty way. You could tell that she knew that they were all looking at her.
‘Please Baby, -‘ Bubber said when she started to pass them. ‘Lemme see your little pink pocket-book and touch your pink costume.’
Baby started humming a song to herself and did not listen. She passed by without letting Bubber play with her. She only ducked her head and grinned at him a little.
Bubber still had the big rifle up to his shoulder. He made a loud pow sound and pretended like he had a shot… He was too quick for Mick to stop him. She had just seen his hand on the trigger when there was the terrible ping of the gun.’