It's basically a screen that you draw on

I've bought a Cintiq. (You know, a fancy tablet that's basically a screen you draw on.)


It has changed my life, and not just in that I'm now one thousand pounds poorer and much more worried about being burgled. It really is amazing. I'll never go back to "paper".

Here's a fascinating insight into my three-screen setup (the wi-fi imploded, so I had to sit within a two metre radius of the router) as you won't see on the Guardian.



For a much better overview of the Cintiq and it's awesomeness, look at this article on Gizmodo ("Verdict: simply amazing".)

Me vs. Diego vs. Pablo

After seeing Picasso's version of Las Meninas the other day (Monday 13 April, to be specific) when I went to the Picasso: Challenging the Past exhibiton at the National Gallery, I started doing my own...

...but I obviously got bored pretty quickly.

Picasso's version looks like this:


And, just in case you're a complete philistine, Velasquez's original looks like this.

Daily Draw: 05.04 - 16.05

On Monday 6 April, I watched television.

On Tuesday and Wednesday of the same week, I forgot to draw anything until just before I went to bed at Char's house so drew bits and bobs from round her room.
She uses Witch and has lots of photographs of me in little frames.

Thursday: nothing.
Friday: nothing.

Saturday: nothing.
Sunday: also nothing.

On Easter Monday I finally went to the Picasso: Challenging the Past exhibition at the National Gallery. He takes well known and loved paintings from the days of yore and makes irreverent versions of them. If he was around today, he'd then send them in to Covered.



I work in Oxford a lot, just by bridge 236. You may know it, it's the one with the big eyeless duck underneath it.




Hot Fuzz is better the second time.

In the Loop will be better the second time too. I didn't really enjoy it but now that I've heard so many glowing reviews I'm completely willing to re-mould my memories to fit in with the bandwagon. Hey! The swearing is so imaginative!

We've been having lots of barbeques, but all the shops in Stockwell refuse to sell normal meat so we've been investigating white Polish sausages and Birds Eye frozen reformed steaks.




For the bank holiday we hired out Eastshaw Farmhouse, a National Trust property in West Sussex. Country walks, big communal meals, Bert Jansch in the iPod dock, sexy drinking games. It's exactly the kind of thing my parents have always done, but with an iPod dock.



Char is growing beetroot, marrows, rhubarb, carrots and lots of herbs.
I am growing tired of having nothing to report but my girlfriends mundane hobbies...

...and my many hours spent on public transport.


Still, it's amazing what you can do on the tube.

At the time, Google Street View was new and exciting

Pocket cartoons, they write themselves really.

I tried channeling a couple recently and these are what came out:







Actually the last one I "channeled" from Felix Jakens, who you may know already from the letters page of Viz.

Threadless: Karemoke

Childish idea, childishly executed... it can only be a Threadless submission.


That's fifteen minutes of my life I'll never get back.

Covered and criticised

You know Covered, right? The blog where people cover comic book covers? No? Where have you been? Outdoors?

I'm telling you, it's the blog sensation taking the world of comic-cover-covers by storm. I'm not entirely sure why, but it is. And I did a cover... and it's on there.

I chose to rework an Elektra cover, probably because really I have a very limited interest in comics but an unlimited interest in Jennifer Garner, to the extent where I'll probably go and see Ghosts of Girlfriends Past in the iMax.

The original artist Greg Horn knows how to make a sexy comic cover. T and A, nunchucks, pumpjacks (those oil things), the words VIOLENT CONTENT... it's all there.


And here's my version, in which the Elektra is played by Kate from Lost.


As an afterthought to a comment on the next days post "WEISSMAN" says he wasn't keen.


Which is nice confusing and depressing.

Mail Me Part Two

Very keen readers of this blog, of which there are of course none, may remember this defaced envelope I posted back in May 2007.



Back then I sent it in to the Mail Me Art, a brief internet thing in which artists and illustrators were invited to send decorated envelopes to an address all in the name of art and that.

I had a lot of spare time back then. I was temping at the time, still the best job I've ever had, in a big public-sector office with the internet and cake afternoons every Thursday.

Fast forward to years later and lo, there's a book about the project.


And continue forward to the contents page, and lo, it says that page 108 of the book features an interview with Jack Noel (cynics can verify this by going on the relevant Amazon page and "searching inside"). That's my name.



Flicking onwards, slightly more excited now, and lo: a double page spread. About me!


I discovered this when I went to see the now-finished exhibition of all the envelopes at the Red Gate Gallery in Brixton.


I had an inkling I may be in the book because I did sign all the relevant release forms many moons ago, but I really didn't expect a full interview. Especially since I'd forgotten answering any questions. This goes some way to explaining why my answers are puerile and stupid. Mercifully the iPhone camera's paltry 2 megapixels make it impossible to read all of what I say in the above picture, but here's a flavour:

What was the inspiration for your submission?
As I was working entirely with half-inched [and then at this point the publishers put in square brackets and translated: "stolen"] stationery, I went for a law enforcement theme. It's all a bit sub-Banksy and embarrassing, but then stealing stationery is about as edgy as I get so I thought I should recognise it.

Have you ever sent mail art prior to taking part in this project?
Previously I was restricted to the usual stuff: writing SWALK, and Postman, Postman, don't delay: eat your cornflakes on the way.
Another pretty funny thing I've done as well is writing London, England (and all that proceeds that) and then further elaborating: Europe, The World, The Milky Way, The Universe... though actually I haven't done that since I was about six.

So there you go. I was childish then, but this weekend I went to an engagement party (Congratulations Sophie and James), and a non-Chirstian peers' engagement at that, and so now am mature.

Plus, I'm in a book that was featured in the Telegraph and in Design Week, so there: mature.

Daily Draw: 12.03 - 04.04

I haven't given up on my daily sketchbook thing. Not entirely, anyway.

Charlotte is going through a real sewing phase. It's lucky I'm one of those sensitive modern males comfortable discussing the merits of an empire line as opposed to an A-line, or the perils of careless overlocking, because that's all we talk about.
It's overtaken her last obsession for pukka-cooking - I think our trip to Jamie Oliver's shop Recipease in Clapham Juction freaked her out a bit- so now we're back to lots of Lloyd Grossman pasta dinners.




On these two days there was an acute blizzard localised around me, hence: white-out.




Matt says the new Stewart Lee programme is "a bit smug". Apparently the viewing figures started off at something-pitiful and throughout the programme they just fall off by the minute. For some reason though I've long proclaimed myself his biggest fan and have convinced myself of his brilliance so well that if he was just reading out the phone book I'd tell myself I loved it and then watch it for a second time on iPlayer. Perhaps even a third, in case I missed any of the area codes.






This weekend we went to the Laugharne Weekend in Carmarthenshire (that's in Wales). It's a literary festival in Laugharne (population: about twelve) with some really great names on the bill, a fair few of whom actually turned up. We watched Louis De Bernieres practice for his grade 3 on the ukelele, DBC Pierre stumble between the three pubs and Howard Marks swear at a PowerPoint presentation. We didn't watch Irvine Welsh, Mark Steel or Rhys Ifans but didn't want to anyway. The whole festival is so laid back it's practically lying down, too drunk to stand. We had special wrist bands but it seemed like any old friendship bracelet would get you in to most of the shows. Still, we were glad for that extra plastic band of warmth in the nights- we were camping and it was bloody freezing.


And then a relaxing six hour drive back with a broken radio. It was fun though.