Well, it made you look… Shamelessly exploitative of the miserable, fur-less creature – and of the human predilection with anything remotely risque or potentially salacious – I know, but I absolutely couldn’t bring myself to wheel out the creaking ol’ ‘bear necessities’ pun, for which I’m sure even the unfortunate bear in question would be grateful. I may, however, come to regret the inclusion of ‘naked’ in the post title – I can only speculate as to the quantity and calibre of the resultant meta-tag-summoned traffic… (I say this as though I’m expecting to be deluged with interest – and I’m sure it has been used as a readership-conjuring tactic at some point in the history of the vast, swirling maelstrom of t’interweb – but ‘lost’ explorers of the blogosphere and those seeking racy-teddy-related titillation [and I’m sure they exist] aside, I’m not sure I’d object particularly strenuously to a few new perusers – even if they were solicited by such nefarious means…).
So, the newest (I use the term advisedly – it was liberated, on grounds of redundancy and unwieldiness, from an institution store cupboard [of the particularly gloomy variety]), most exciting enhancement to my life this week has been…an A1 plan chest (ah, the stuff of dreams)! I have been angling for one for some time now to bring some sort of semblance of order to the fluttering blizzard of paper and scrap card that is my (corner of the) studio, but it turns out that they are both prohibitively expensive (*sigh*) and extremely heavy (glaring absence of car and helpful Stannah stair lift here spring to the fore) so I had, rather despondently, and with not-infrequent sad-eyed (silent) entreaties to my beloved benefactor, all but abandoned hope.
But, lo! News of an entirely perfect, war-wounded (i.e. ex-school) plan chest emerged last week and, with the aid of a suitably burly and willing technician (and a van), said apparatus was wrestled from the dark recesses of the Tech department store room, over our threshold, and up our just-wide-enough staircase – with exactly the requisite amount of cursing – into the studio where, once I had marvelled at its awesome organisational potential for a few minutes, a (sort of) revolution was declared!
What would’ve been perfect was if all the cascading heaps of sketches, drawing paper, parchment and watercolour oddments had miraculously flown upwards, sorting themselves the while, flocked in the direction of the chest and then filed themselves neatly into appropriately segregated drawers, leaving only order and tidiness – and the abiding scattering of eraser rubbings (no amount of hoovering is ever enough, it seems, to combat the stubbornly persistent carpet of grey rubbery strands around the feet of my drawing desk…). However, this Sorcerer’s Apprentice-style event didn’t come to pass (although I did, optimistically, give it a few minutes), so I was forced to resort to more traditional methods: manually leafing through, arranging and rearranging – and occasionally jettisoning – until I had achieved a more discernibly organised chaos. After which I hid it all in the plan chest’s wonderfully-capacious 10 drawers.
Happily, though, this rather laborious (by comparison to the magic, flying-paper option) process allowed me to revisit – and rediscover – rough work and idle drawings from the past three, or so, years, some of which I set aside for further development. Although the last couple of posts have featured bears, I hope you won’t object to another week on the subject – it seems that pre-mouse-fixation, I had enjoyed/endured something of a bear-glut, although the old sketches I unearthed were noticeably different in style to my recent characters:
The biro-rendered ones are, I think, a little creepy – especially the one with the ice-cream sundae, who looks as though he may have experienced some sort of unfortunate accident at the hands of the eye-stitcher-on-er at that stage of the production line…
However, surrounded by bears, I was catapulted back to my childhood as a favourite, um, tongue-twister, I guess, inveigled its way into my thoughts… I give you ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy’:
I’m not entirely sure what material Fuzzy Wuzzy would have to be constructed from to result in such a catastrophic outcome from a washing machine encounter, but the ‘naked’…er, Wuzzy, I suppose…conjured memories of a post-synthetics-cycle Sylvanian Family rabbit. Chilling.
The Fuzzy Wuzzy jaunt has inspired me to consider other fairly silly tongue-twistery rhymes that I might apply the pencil treatment to – ‘Spring is Sprung’ is looking like the next strong contender – so, if you have any suggestions as to daft rhymes you’d like to see on here, please do get in touch and I shall do my utmost to whisk up a suitable graphite-based tribute for your optical delectation.
‘Til next time, I hope you have a wondrous week!