Three recent Brushes, following another hiatus. Quality definitely dips with lack of practice: I’ve done much better than these. And that poor chap with the beard: he looked quite cheerful in real life. Sorry sir.
Another hiatus, another little flurry of drawings.
I recently opened an office in Soho Square, which means suddenly I’m a commuter again.
You’d think this would bring a deluge of Brushes, but so far the workload hasn’t allowed it – most of my train journeys are spent with my laptop open. But I had a little burst of Brushing the other day – here are the results.
The guy in the yellow hat was on my train home, the other two were lightning sketches on the Tube.
I’ve been in the US for a week now (thanks to this), but haven’t managed a Brushes With Strangers until now. (Well, I did try one in a San Francisco coffee shop, but it was rubbish.)
This weary chap was on the New York subway with me this afternoon. But not for long – I only got a couple of stops with him until he woke up and got off. So I had to do the beard after the fact. But he came out OK, I think.
A one-stop shot, this one. We only had the time between Sloane Square and Victoria Tube stations, and that’s not very long. But he was a good lad, and sat nice and still.
I even managed to give a roughly accurate impression of his hand, instead of creating something that looks like a mutilated squid sewn onto his arm. Progress.
When he looked up from under his cap, this fellow looked a lot like Ridley Scott. Perhaps it was Ridley Scott, although I’m not sure why he’d be on the Dorking to Waterloo train.
The hat’s rubbish, a pretty lazy bit of drawing frankly. But the beard, using the same brush I used for those lads’ hair, worked quite well.
I don’t really think it was Ridley Scott.
I drew this friendly-looking old fellow on the Tube yesterday. As so often happens, he got off just as I was getting into it, but I go enough to feel quite happy with it.
He had a soft, comfortable look about him: an archetypal Grandad in his blue flat cap and enormous glasses. Quiet, still and composed in the way many elderly people are. An aspect of ‘You lot run about and squawk and jabber, you haven’t got a clue yet. I’ve seen most things, and I’m not in any rush.’
(Can we still say ‘elderly’, by the way? Is it ‘older person’ or something now?)
What a gift: sitting directly opposite me and not just asleep, but also with a hat over his eyes. So even if he’d suddenly woken up he wouldn’t have spotted me.
We got on the train together, and I immediately thought of Raiders of the Lost Ark: that Gestapo agent who does the trick with the coat-hanger. But then he sat down and tipped his hat forward, and went all Indiana Jones.
You don’t see a lot of hats these days, and I’ve always felt that’s a shame. If I had the nerve I’d wear one. Secretly, I wish we could all go back to the look of about 1940, when all men wore fedoras and three-piece suits, and every woman looked like Lauren Bacall or Betty Grable. That’s what it was like in 1940, right?
I may do some more work on this drawing. Not enough of my sketches get finished. And there’s a nascent plan afoot to maybe do something more with these pictures. Maybe something printed. It’s only vague at the moment. If you think that sounds a good idea let me know — I’d be interested to gauge interest…