I’m going to start the first post of this fine new year by looking backward.
Quite far backward actually. Back to when I was a wee, newly-minted graduate of design school in 2003.
Back then, I was dead set on becoming an illustrator. One of my drawing teachers, recognising that I was the finest horse-drawer* in the whole of Billy Blue School of Graphic Design, set me up with a meeting with his illustration agent. I turned up to the meeting clutching my portfolio in my clammy hands and nervously flipped through the pages which showcased amongst other things, drawings from high-school which were earnestly rendered pen drawings of horses and things.
He very nicely examined my wares and agreed that yes, they were definitely well-rendered drawings of horses and other things, but what I lacked was a consistent style. He showed me images from other well known illustrators and explained how they were known for their particular style. Though my dreams of illustration stardom were crushed, I could see he had a point. He recommended that I keep a sketchbook and draw EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
It was only when I moved to London two years later, that I took up the challenge of drawing EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I filled half a dozen sketchbooks with sneaky sketches of snoozers on the tube, people I approached in the park, family members, stuffed animals from the Museum of Natural History, Nick Cave induced visions… I never went anywhere without my sketchbook. And… I got better! I developed a style! I got into a Los Lobos gig for free at the Camden Jazz Club!**
So, without further ado, and in no particular chronological order I present sketches and excerpts from those little black books, they were my life and I loved them.
*This my friends, is a post for another day. I shall explain the genisis of Fieldey from my early dreams of becoming an equine artist
**Their support act saw me sketching in the cafe next door and came up to see what I was doing and put my name on the door.