The year is 1981. The place is the newly opened Lion’s Den club in Miami’s South Beach. Our time-travelling warrior poet Azrael Goldbeard is taking some well earned time off in the early 80’s as he fancied a bit of some sun and some disco dancing. Although lesser known than it’s New York counterpart, Studio 54, the Lion’s Den is very much along the same lines. Debauchery is the name of the game and Goldbeard is very much enjoying his time here. He’s currently thinking about nipping back to 77 and see what all the fuss was about. It’ll be a while until he’s back in grim and grimy 2019…
Recently my washing machine broke down so I had to use the local laundrette to wash my clothes. Never having used one before I wasn’t really sure what to expect but I’m certainly sure that what I did witness was not what you would call the norm.
When I walked in a couldn’t see a soul until I walked around the first bank of machines, to my surprise I caught this lady sitting on a washing machine writhing about, legs akimbo, whimpering to herself. My first thought was this was some reenactment of the famous scene from ‘When Harry met Sally’ but as I looked closer I could see the tail of some small rodent sticking out the bottom of her trouser leg. To say I was shocked would be an understatement, I dropped my washing and ran as fast as my legs could take me from the place and left her to deal with the situation herself. Now I know it’s not the most chivalrous response one could have but I just felt the fact that I was wearing shorts was enough of a reason to high tail it out of there in case it came at me with its pointed snout, small rounded ears and pink scaly tail. I certainly wasn’t going to be caught in this little fellas well thought out trap…
I’m sure we’ve all heard of the red mist? It is the feeling of extremeanger that temporarily clouds one’s judgment and can arise given a variety of conditions and depending on the individual.
Sometimes it’ll occur when some over-entitled male tries to mansplain something like the dark side of the Moon and how it is tidally locked to Earth when the woman is a world renowned astrophysicist with numerous awards and accolades under her belt on many far ranging subjects infinitely more complex than the simple geophysics this mouthbreather is attempting to explain.
Or perhaps simply encountering a mime. That would also do it.
I struck up a conversation the other day with a man who had more than a passing resemblance to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I have enough tact not to start a conversation with such a glaring statement but the similarities between them were uncanny with the same large red nose, massive teeth and incredibly long face. To tell you the truth it looked like one of the plastic joke ones given out for Comic Relief but, of course, I didn’t say that either. Instead I struck up a conversation about O’Neill cylinders in an attempt to bamboozle him, hopefully leading to a mild sense of confusion so that he would lower his defences and I could hopefully find out if he was actually somehow related to the famous reindeer.
I won’t bore you with the ensuing small talk but I did eventually find out that his name was Rosacea the red nosed human and he came to have such a big red nose due to a chance meeting he once had with a drunk fairy who thought it would be funny to make a human version of Rudolph. Over the years Rosacea hasn’t found it that amusing however…
You’re probably not going to believe me but Gregor here used to be a top influencer on Instagram for this stunning good looks and perfect quiff but things have begun to go downhill rather rapidly for him.
It all started innocently enough. Gregor was studiously going through his daily beauty regime and was plucking a rogue nostril hair when he caught his own eye in the mirror. Taken as he was with his own reflection he gave himself a cheeky wink and it all escalated from there. Now he only has time for his own reflection. He’s given up posting on Instagram but sits staring at himself for hours on end. He will occasionally smile or wink at himself while he whispers unintelligibly into the mirror. What will come of him I hear you ask? Well if you know anything of Greek mythology then you’ll know that the story of Narcissus doesn’t end well for the person concerned…
On A4 and made using Charcoal, pencil, paint pen and acrylic, drop us a line if interested.
Whilst painting I managed to spill my cup of tea. Usually a catastrophe of such proportions would cause me to curl up in the fetal position and start crying over the waste of such lovely nectar. This time however, before my tear ducts could react, I saw something in the spill.
Before I knew it the Muse was upon me and I searched frantically for a pencil lest my creative urge abandoned me. After about a long minute of searching I found one behind my ear (damn those days spent on building sites) now all I had to do was a few quick lines and the Muse disappeared to relieve Molly Quirke (age 9) of a small case of creative block related to drawing a horse.
Michael can’t really remember his mother as she left when he was young to become a trapeze artist for the travelling circus that had been visiting town. He can still remember her last words to him though which were ‘It will never be easy’ and he has taken those words and turned them in to a matra which he uses when things in his life are starting to go a little out of control. So now when things start to go wrong he calmly closes his eyes and repeats the mantra over and over again.
It’s not entirely clear how but it has apparently got him out of some pretty serious situations like when he was arrested for trying to swim the English Channel with only one flipper and a tin box full of aggressive fruit flies which just kept flying in to his eyes. Needless to say the Coast Guard was called as he had managed to cross into the shipping lanes which meant many boats were told to steer clear causing major havoc at ports throughout the EU. All in all that little escapade cost the British taxpayer something in the region of £4.7 million. And he never even got prosecuted. Made using the magic of imagination, acrylic, paint pen, watercolour, pastel and gold leaf on A4 paper.