September 30th, 2009
The circus tent came down. The clown returned the poodle to its cage with a treat. Back in his caravan he sat down at the mirror. The show had been a success; the dog had made every hoop. A success, until, amidst the laughter, he’d seen that boy in the front row: pulling a grimace. He pulled off his wig, but his face, he left on. As a schoolboy it had always been grimacing boys, grimacing girls… Soon the bearded lady would come over; she liked to after a show; only tonight, he would let her have it her way.
Aveva bussato alla porta della vicina, quella nuova, quella sempre veloce ed estranea. La vicina aveva aperto, che era già un buon primo passo.
“Buongiorno,” aveva detto Sonia, “ho finito il sale.”
La vicina aveva fatto una strana faccia. Era chiaro che stava pensando che Sonia cercava una scusa per farsi gli affari suoi.
“Mi dispiace, non ne ho,” aveva risposto.
Sonia aveva fatto spallucce. “Grazie lo stesso.”
Ma da quel giorno, chissà come, qualsiasi cosa la nuova vicina mangiasse le sembrava sciocca. Non importava quanto sale usasse, da quel momento in poi tutto il cibo, per lei, fu insipido.
Notes
Not much to say today, apart from that I’m really pleased with these two illustrations. This is probably, I’d say even certainly, due to the fact that we have two really inspiring stories here. Ryan has been sending me tweaked and corrected versions of Grimace ever since this project started, so this is kind of a small milestone, to have it finally illustrated here.
September 26th, 2009
Some more holiday sketches from France (click for a bigger view)
Collioure, a cliff side protruding into the sea
A city in the sky
Argeles sur mer, how will it look like in 50 years? Like this maybe?
September 23rd, 2009
The Sicilian Defence by Ryan Licata
Giuseppina was a relentless cook. Never had the pasta been anything but al dente. The boy sat in the big armchair in the darkened lounge at the same board, as if nothing had happened. He knew the old man’s opening game better than he knew his own. He played with the caution his adversary had not. His mother would look in on him once in a while, wiping her hands on her apron, before returning to the kitchen. She had used the same knife she now used to chop onions. A good wife knows the way to her man’s heart.
Il Buffone di Scoiattolazzo
Il buffone salta, rotola, corre, e ride.
E’ brutto, grasso, puzza, ma ride.
Un rutto e una canzone, una scoreggia e una poesia. Questo e’ il buffone, mormora ridendo con se stesso.
Da tutti sbeffeggiato, svilito, umiliato. Eppur di giorno si prende gioco dei Re e di notte delle Regine.
“Che pena “ penso tra me e me.
Allora si avvicina, mi accarezza con un eleganza che non e’ di questa terra e… sorride. Un sorriso strano che ora posso capire… non e’ per far ridere la gente e’ perché della gente ride.
E allora la pena e’ per quelli come me..
Notes
The “sicilian defense” is a popular chess opening (read more about it here on wikipedia). It actually doesn’t really involve the tower, but somehow to me the tower best represented the figure of the father in the story. In the second illustration I go retro once again, what can I say… it’s fun! And for those who will wonder why the jester holds a skull and a wavy mirror in his hands… they might not really mean anything, but then, on the other hand… we like to laugh about death, because it helps us fight the fear of dying, but it will be the grim reaper who’ll have the last laugh on us . We find it funny to see ourselves distorted and deformed by wavy mirrors, but maybe we should be able take our real appearance with the same sense of humour…
September 22nd, 2009
September 19th, 2009
here we go with some of the stuff I’ve made while roasting my bottom at the sea! I hope you’ll enjoy it!
The first title for this one was Elisabeth vs. the sea. The inspiration comes from seeing my girlfriend standing on the beach looking out into the sea, not knowing if she should jump into it or not. Made me think of big topics of humanity like “Man vs. Nature”…
September 16th, 2009
The library was abandoned, the librarians long dead, yet the books remained impeccable upon their shelves. A hollow sound rippled from the volumes as Jane ran her finger along them. She had removed one, opened it to the middle page, when uneven footsteps shifted along the polished floors, with the echo of a tiny, insistent cough. Jane replaced the book, and turned towards the way she’d come, but there, at the top of the winding staircase, stood a woman of indeterminable age, with a feather duster, the sceptre of her reign, gripped in her blue-veined hands. “They’re not for reading!”
Hirundines, Ranae et Polypus by Lapin
“Una rana gigante ha occupato i nidi di rondine, scende su e giù, appare, scompare. Facendomi largo tra i curiosi, vedo uscire dall’angolo della sua bocca un tentacolo marrone, come la lingua di chi ha l’acquolina. E infatti: la rana cattura uno dei suoi figli; il piccolo si divincola con vivacità, lei lo calma con carezze, poi, occhi di mucca, lo sistema tra le fauci mollicce, inspira e inghiotte con uno schianto forte.
File di denti minuti come aghi.
Ora i tentacoli stritolano la rana terrorizzata, ma non saprei dire se si tratti della figlia inghiottita o della madre cannibale.”
Notes
I’m back from holidays! It’s been a great time, with lots of relax, fun and some wonderful people to spend time with. I had plenty of time to draw and doodle and of course I will be posting some of it here, a bit at a time. The break is over, from now on posting will be carried on as planned. A hundred word stories every Wednesday and sketches on Saturday.
