Ailyex vs. Dogboyo

The best thing after a lethargic week of impoverished staying-in? One coastal roadtrip to a Brighton guitar shop with the Mister - and his insistence on leaving the house at 8am; Tommy in search of The Dream Guitar; Aaron - who mentioned (hair)’product’ to me at least four times; Khris‘must wriggle my arse despite 3 of us being wedged in to the back of Ian’s tiny car’Lilley and an unfounded hope of beer for breakfast.

I think this picture adequately illustrates how Tommy felt after purchasing this:

After a week of oddness - for me at least - ’twas wicked to just bum around at the beach. First Aaron helped Khris further his pursuit of the Zen Guitar State -

and some talk of Your Mum and what to wear when Thomas married his new guitar,

before Ten Ton Tabby regressed to hurling pebbles at a big orange stone target,

before deciding that a big orange moving target would be more fun!

Then the Great British Heavens opened and we went in search of Jack Daniels. Thankfully I ducked away from the camera when Ian decided to do some pub-stalking:

Despite a small incident surrounding the Upending Of Stash Jars Over Pebbles and Allusions To Poo-Sex, ’tis pretty neat when your boyfriend’s mates turn out to be your mates too. People rock. By the time we wedged ourselves back into the car - with Khris resuming the wriggling and Aaron taking up twice his normal space - and circled the A23 thrice over I was bloody knackered - totally cool.

Love this boy.

Played by Hanbertina and myself since the days of Lower Sixth in the Corridor Study Room, and having appeared on Nerve.com, The Simpsons and The Guardian, SMOPOAC has just been played by The Friday Night Project!! [which the Oxford Landing and I are currently watching . . . ] Get in!

The PV for TVU Contemporaries was Monday and quite sweet in an odd way. The weirdest thing was hanging my labels - to actually price and title my work! I have four A2 prints up there from my Big series:

Mind

Flight

Nautical

Rebirth

They are all selections from a large, sprawling illustration - Big - that never seems to be finished, but I love drawing it. Someday I’ll look at it and know that it’s finished, and then I can print off a massive, eye-popping wall-sized piece! Big started off as a tattoo design - I wanted a big colourful back-piece - but it just kept growing until I realised that no-one has a back that big!

These images are a little dulled, but in person the posters are jewel-bright and so rich. If they don’t sell they’ll be included in my next artistic venture . . .

. . . my brand-spanking new Ailyex vs. Dogboyo Etsy Shop!!!!

I’m so excited about this - the idea that people might actually buy my work, and hang it in their homes to see everyday, or give it as a gift is just, wondrous.

I’ve only listed two prints to start with, Eye Eye:

and Arms and Legs:

They’re both A3 digital illustration prints, and are here for your perusal . . .

I’ll be adding more items soon, including the Big series and all kinds of prints in a sell-as-we-go kind of fashion.

Happy Wednesday dudes! x

So the rock poster is an under-appreciated by mind-blowing art form, right? If you need any persuading, here’s just a fraction of what was on show at The Fighting Cocks on Saturday:

Drew Millward

Drew Millward

Drew Millward

Nick Rhodes

The first was my one, very restrained purchase. Then Bass Face got his wallet out, and we were up to our eyes in prints in need of Not Squashing Whilst Drinking. I can’t wait to get them all up and framed alongside my Dad’s vintage Hendrix:

Apologies for the pants photo - although you can click through to a larger version.

To be honest I was completely blown away, the attention to detail and variation of all the posters was top-notch, as was the un-assuming attitude of the artists that I spoke to. Drew Millward asked if I would mind terribly paying a whole £10 for The Melvins print. Ten pounds! Why, that’s extortionate for a beautifully printed, exquisitely psychedelic poster! While this was all great for my wallet, I felt rather cheeky getting taking it off him for so little. I also tried to buy this wonderfullness for its political cartoon and Alice in Wonderland allusions but it was only available on line, so I’ll keep you posted . . .

Seeing all the artwork was really humbling as I try to start my own Etsy shop, , , I think my work is saleable, but nothing in comparison. It also emphasized the importance of quality printing, as well as the artistic context in which you work - the mere idea of belonging to a recognised art scene and collaborating with other illustrators seems wonderful . . .

After all the artyness - and many bloody marys for me - Jack’s lightshow and Stubb’s set were wicked to see/hear. The Fighting Cocks’ stage was set back in a sort of zebra-striped nook, onto which Jack projected all kinds of sound-responsive visuals. BF has all the photos, but the best way I can describe it was as if the bands were playing underwater. Colour-changing, pulsing, poster-imaged water. Which made filming Stubb rather cool . . . they’ve got a video of Milk and Honey from my footage on their myspace, which is here if you fancy a gander.

Pics from TVU Contemporaries coming soon . . .

Dad, the Munchkin and I toddled down to (sometime) sunny Brighton on Tuesday. There was much picture taking . . .

Brighton’s big skies always blow me away - the way the beach front snakes away so flat under the cloud tiers. I’m still getting to know my camera, but I think that when I can capture a cloudscape in all its layered magnificence, I’ll have cracked it.

Given the lack of a summer this year, the absence of precipitation and appearance of a few rays was wondrous, as was this sliver of rainbow:

The collapse of the West Pier was horrid - it looked so forlorn the next day. But four years later the weathered framework has a stark beauty all of its own - the play of the bronze, white and green girders, the repeated curves and criss-cross lines bizarrely beautiful and tragic, standing their last against the unrepentant waves.

Plus, I love how this section of what was the concert hall breaks the surf, like the hump of a bio-mechanical sea monster, shrugging up and down with the tides.

The weather left the beach rather deserted for July, but these carousels looked all the more colourful for the lack of riders.

The gothic lampposts kill me - they deserve killer storms, blackened clouds rushing past and star-crossed lovers in regency dresses declaring their love under them

or sheltering from the storm after murdering their spouses. Or something . . .

This bandstand was beautifully dying away - the rusted greens were stunning against the blue sky. Brighton’s promenade has many fixtures in need of repair, but this one was covered in notices about restoration and plans for future gigs, so hopefully it’ll get the face-lift it deserves.

And we found this little dude on the promenade edging on the way to said bandstand:

neat, huh?

I’ll be showing a few A3 prints and A2 posters - am well excited to see my work so big! All of it’s for sale, natch, and will be through my upcoming venture in to the world of Etsy . . . but more on that later!

As well as the private view etc the space is open 7 days a week, 12 hours a day ’til August, so you’ll have no excuse not to potter down . . .

And . . . if you can’t wait until Monday for your dodgy art fix, come down to this blinder - I’ve been promised wicked poster art [and poster artists!] to view and/or buy, plus a Mindzap lightshow, lovely music from Stubb and other cool-ass bands.

Metallica. Wembley Stadium. Getting sunburnt in the queue. Luis and Khris actually getting there at 8am. Golden circle wristband - oh yes! Machinehead taking photos to prove that they got to play to so many people. Spontaneous rock caucus races. A mexican wave being more interesting than HIM. Having a sit-down. And watching fifty metal boys dance and sing YMCA and play the hokey-cokey. Before Linsey and I joined a conga line. Until said Finnish metal band walked off. And then . . . METALLICA. Tommy knowing ALL the words - and grinning like an apus. Pogoing with people you dig. Fade to Black. 60,00-strong sing-a-long. Bass Face hugging me the whole time.

And people say metal is all about killing yourself and being mean.

As my first post for Kayte’s Colour Week, I bring you a miniature cornucopia of red and pink possessions:

Clockwise from the top left are . . .

my favourite red gingham alice band,

a fabric lei from my sixth form study room [which also contained 50 pink paper flowers, 1 bead curtain, fairy lights and a chuppah!],

a string of thrifted red beads that lives around my left wrist,

the lid of a thrifted biscuit tin that now holds cotton buds,

more gingham, this time a bow barrette I made years ago,

the perfect red wooden earing,

rings given to me by my mum and sister,

a 12mm cherry ear stretching plug,

a red star pendant given to me by my sis for my 17th,

and a new apple pendant from New Look, all sitting on my trusty Accessorize laptop bag.

I love how a splash of red detail can lift an outfit or a room instantly, adding pep and spice, rendering blotchy skin milky,

drawing the eye to a red-framed print, scarlet pumps peeking from under jeans

or carmine-lidded cranberries amongst the quiet wine glasses of a kitchen shelf.