Studying

People sometimes ask me how it feels to start studying again. Well, pretty much like this.

J'ai l'âme lourde encor d'amour inexprimé.

They were called Jeanette and Risette. Well, those weren't their true names, but everyone called them that way. They were sisters. One died six years ago, the other one, almost two weeks ago by now. One was my grandmother by blood, the other one, by heart.

Turns out them passing away doesn't make me love them any less. Here's a bit of virtual space to their memories, to the warmth they envelopped us with.

Ps: Title quoted from Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac.

White Note Concert last saturday

Hello, people. Life's unexpected twists allowed me to be present, last saturday, for a gig from White Note in a parisian bar. An exceptional musical moment in a very nice, welcoming little bar. 

 

 

(That's not White Note btw, but the band that came before them.)

Food was very good too. Perhaps because life in Holland is sadly deprived of galettes de sarrasin, so each time I can get one, it's a special treat.

Another special thing about the evening was the waitress who was just awesome.

 

Drawn with waterproof ink and an old writting nib I found, and of course washes of the same ink. I would like to advise anyone against leaving a bottle of waterproof permanent black ink open in a house where there are cats.

From My Window.

Gefeliciteerd!!

The picture is all blurry because it's dark outside, but I couldn't wait to show it. The wedding card of two persons very dear to my heart, who did me the honour of asking me to draw it...


I'd like to thank them again for the trust they showed me.


I'll post a better picture of it soon!

Reflexions on the whole Benetton/Vatican story.

Since it's been pointed out to me, I would like to precise that I /do/ believe that Benetton was expecting precisely this reaction from the Vatican, and of course all they want is to make a buzz and sell stuff. All the more reason to roll my eyes at the fact that it worked so well.

Despite looking around in the European/American media, I couldn't find any reaction from any other party. So what do you think? Was anyone here shocked by this?

La suite...

 

As requested, the next bit of the story. Didn't have the time to colour it yet; maybe later!

Baby Cthulu Wants To Play.

 

Edit: My brother pointed this out from the great Boulet. I'd forgotten but I'd seen it a few days before this drawing, so it's fair to quote it as source of inspiration! If you don't know that blog (which probably means you aren't a french speaker) , don't hesitate to have a look - it's awesome.

Ablasserdam quickie

 After Den Haag, Alblasserdam, home of the Kinderdijk, lots of horses, and lots of swans. I'll make a better drawing of it someday.

... And in Alblasserdam, it is well known that the swans are particularly difficult to ride, as demonstrated by the little wood imp below.

Den Haag

While, if given any choice, I'd leave the city in a second to live in the countryside, I do love The Hague, with its mix of liveliness, modernity and history.

I love the fact that here, you can walk around the government buildings simply to admire them. I love the coloured lights on the lake outside the Binnenhof at night. I challenge myself every time to buy a fresh herring (and never dare it.)





I  enjoyed sitting there, drawing and being left alone except for the occasional bypasser sharing a smile...

.... Or the crazy seagul paparazzi.

This one is two -in- one: included, a "spot the errors" game. The CC guy was able to find the biggest one- will /you/ see it?

From what I could read on their flags, these guys didn't seem to know precisely what they were protesting against. They reminded me of the "Asterix and Cleopatra" movie, where the pyramid workers go on strike shouting: "PAS CONTENTS, PAS CONTENTS!".








I hope you didn't hurt your eyes too much on the tiny sepia scribbling.
Goodnight.

Shoulder Tree (tattoo project)

Trees always come back in my mind and in my drawings, so I decided to have one on me. In a few months, if everything goes right this one will become a reality, realized by this french artist. She creates such amazing tattoos, I wouldn't want it done by anyone else. I can't wait.

White Note.

Once Upon A Time,  there was a teenager whose big brother played the guitar. He found that really cool and started, too. It helped with the girls, because the guy was a bit shy; but mostly, he fell in love with Music. And after a few years of his family resisting the urge to throw things at him when he attempted to sing "Newborn" from Muse, it seemed like Music fell in love with him too.

He met together with some of her other lovers, three guys from Paris' surroundings, and together they gave birth to a baby called White Note. Let's be honest here, I'd never have heard of them if the shy-brother-imitating-teenager hadn't been my cousin (he can sing Muse and Jeff Buckley without breaking crystal glasses, now, by the way.) But since he is, and since I love their music, I'd like to encourage you, whoever you are, to go listen to it.

Someone called their first album "The Original Soundtrack of Winter", and I find that very accurate. But rather than describing it, I'd rather let you listen, and, if you like it, share it!

A reminder

A guy in the train. He saw me stare at his tattoo, and smiled.

Not like I'd forget, anyway.

Sleeping Smof

Nijmegen: behind the church.

Many dutch cities have managed to preserve the core of their old towns around their tall churches made of red bricks, and Nijmegen is no exception. The biggest church's  original name as a catholic worship place was "St Steven" (st Stephen), but when its people converted to protestantism, they very originally decided to rename it "Grote Kerk" (the big church.)


I've personally decided to call it "The Frankenstein Church", because whoever built, rebuilt, and added to it obviously didn't care much about keeping the whole coherent. So there's white, cathedralish looking parts, red bricks, dark grey stones... It is certainly original and interresting historically speaking, but not the prettiest building ever. In addition to that, the inside, duly voided of any decorations, feels huge, stern, and empty (but I probably only feel this way because I'm so used to catholic churches). 


The houses around it are very cute however.  You can walk a few meters there without any signs of modern civilization, just imagining a golden haired little girl selling flowers in the cold air of an autumn morning. 


Ps: Here are some real pictures of the church.

Watercolour addict

Amongst other oddities, one or our cats has become addicted to the taste of watercolor cubes. If I don't watch out and leave the desk for 5 minutes, she'll be licking the paint off my metallic painting kit, or drinking the dirty paint water, or even - my favorite- licking the wet paint off the drawing I'm working on. Considering that she is still alive despite the quantities of the stuff that she has ingested by now, I'm guessing it's not too toxic.

Texel

 Texel is mostly like any part of the Netherlands in that it's very, very flat, well organized, clean, and as far as we could see, quite moist.  But there were seals in the sea - just like at Molène- and the beach was covered with little pieces of black flint, which made the coast particularly beautiful. (In case you're wondering, it's a starfish the seagull is eating... and yes, it swallowed it whole. Glup.

 

I didn't like the first town we visited, De Koog, too much. It felt like a tourist trap and it was full of German people.  But the second, Den Burg (such an original name) was very cute. Inhabitants were selling local vegetables by setting them in small trays outside their door, indicating the price; if you wanted one, you would need to toss the indicated price in the mailbox, but no- one seemed to be checking.

There was this great restaurant, but I forgot the name- and then that tea. Anyone know where to get nettle tea in Holland? I'd never had any before and I loved it.  

Message pour l'au delà.

Morning tea

Peace is the smell of orange flavored tea and toasted bread in the kitchen of a long lost house, with the morning sun pouring in through the curtains, and my mum turning to smile at me.

Come on you fallen star, I refuse to let you die...

'Cause that's wrong
And I've been waiting for too long...


Yeah it's wrong
And I've been waiting for too long...


For you to be,

be, be, be

be mine....
For you to be mine...

(...)



















(Lyrics: Placebo, Centerfolds. A song that always still makes me incredibly melancholic.)

From Yvone Bazin de Jessey's picture book.

While staying at my granmother's, I discovered a picture book belonging to her own mother. The pictures were of course all in black and white, so I invented colors for them.

 The family was none too poor, apparently - I figured these were dresses for special days, but according to my grandmother they were always dressed that way. Here, two nameless, but pretty ladies.

The end of the album was dated 1914, so I assume this was somewhere at the beginning of the XXth century.

 This lady was called "La Chauvin". On the picture she had a tired, hard working face, and wiry arms, but she smiled a sort of forced smile. I am not sure if her hair was very blonde or white. Her uncanny resemblance to my great-grandmother apparently caused some people to suspect that she might simply have been her half sister.

Would this be the reason why the family kept her?

 I know nothing else of this mysterious woman but I felt drawn to the straight, tense silhouette kneeling in the mud by the river.








Same album -two nameless men guiding a mule. They looked so proud on the picture, I had to draw them.

More White Note.

Yup!

Fanart white note.

Toute ressemblance avec des gens existant ou ayant existé est purement fictionnelle.

Sérieusement, un jour j'arriverai à faire des portraits.

Circassian dancers

That one is dedicated to Sawsan. I hope you'll agree that it's better than my previous attempt!
To make this one, I click-paused a youtube video of dancers until I got a movement that I found nice. And then I changed the costumes a bit.

Self- portrait from the past...

Come on, don't tell me I changed so much. People who knew me at that age will tell you that I rarely stayed away from trees for very long (Manue, if you pass by...). The only incoherence of this drawing is that I don't think I've ever worn trousers that weren't too short.

Some quick watercolor experiments.

The idea was just to splash colors on a paper and try to draw whatever I could imagine into it, without particularly trying to drawing well. Just for the fun of it.

Landscape

Sketchbook, black ink office pen and trains to work.

Fanart.

Mike van den Heuvel, who I've seen mostly play with A New Dawn. The moment I saw him on stage, I couldn't help thinking about Jack in A Nightmare Before Christmas. Hence this drawing. Also he's simply amazing to watch, especially to someone like me who always looked at grunters with a certain dose of perplexity. ( Point ball pen, watercolor, markers.)

Saturne

Possibly my favorite song of Georges Brassens. I was about to attempt a poor translation, when I discovered this amazing page: The songs of Georges Brassens with English translation: Saturne. Worth having a look at even if you're French and already know the song by heart, if only for the notes. 
 

La tourine- and a CC guy.

This is one room of a place very dear to my heart. The CC- guy pretends the fire was never that high, but bwaf.

Lady In The Rose Garden.

I just love working with point ball pen and watercolour. This one is for Jessica, with all my wishes of well being.

Young Ailis and the Longhouse.

Point ball pen, watercolors.

Scene from Gorthod's backstory.

For Mark. Point ball pen, watercolor paper and sepia ink wash. Gorthod is sort of lost in his own dream and it doesn't look very pleasant down there.

Des pédalos en Allemagne.

Does anyone know how to say "pedalos" in english? This is a study for that thing I'm working on with Sven. Sadly my scanner isn't big enough to take the whole picture, so I had to cut a part of the building.