Pete Hindle

Pictures and stuff from a guy who likes coffee.

View from the Library

As the winter drew in at the end of October, I was experimenting with warm places where I could sit and draw. Behind the teen fiction section of Biggleswade library there is a small desk which looks out onto the street.

I’m not sure about spending the winter hanging out in the library drawing – after all, it was Nico who said that “libraries are where you go when you want to avoid life”. Plus, the library is a rather stationary building, and at some point I would be tempted to draw the inside of the building, which is all complicated bookshelves and perspective. No thanks!

This was also the end of my Arches “Travel Book”, a rough type of watercolour paper in a 16:9 ratio, that I started way back in Letchworth. I was actually pretty glad about that, as I was finding the paper really hard to deal with. Still haven’t found the perfect notepad for watercolours yet…

 

Old Door Redux

IMG_2464

There’s this old door in Cambridge which I put up on here already, way back in May, but I had to go back to that area. The door is opposite a nice cafe, called Trockel, Ulmann & Freunde, which seems to be one of the few cafes in the centre of Cambridge which isn’t a chain cafe or horrible, so I plonked myself down and took another shot at the door.

It’s ok, right? I mean, one of the people who worked at the cafe said it was good, and I’m fairly happy with it. But what it does show is how I’m gradually improving. It’s important to remember both that you can get better if you try, and that you are going to get better.

In truth, I’ve found the onset of winter a tough time to be doing watercolour, as it’s a bit nippy outside. What should I draw over the winter?! I think I’m going to have to think up a project to keep me occupied over the winter months, possibly using all this ink I have been stockpiling…

Fortean Unconvention, Camden Centre, London

Last weekend found me at the Fortean Times Unconvention 2011, thanks to a last-minute invite from Ian Simmons. Sadly, I wasn’t feeling up to much – getting up early enough to be in London at 10ish in the morning really takes it out of me – but I enjoyed the talks I did see.

I expected the crowd to be all fat men with beards, but there were a lot of really normal people there. When I attend a conference I usually spend a lot of time drawing rows of people from sitting level, and I think I’m getting pretty good at doing the back of people’s heads now. In fact, I think I’m going to have to break out a bit, and get beyond the back of people’s heads. Sadly, it is the only thing that keeps my attention span on the talk – otherwise I would have missed the wonderful talk by Ted Harrison (top) about various prophecies about the apocalypse. His best line was when he opened to questions from the floor, saying “… and before anybody asks, I don’t know the date!”

I like going to conferences both for intellectual stimulation, and to spend time drawing people. I’ve recently been spending a lot of time staring at my own face in the mirror, so I’m getting pretty good at drawing beards – but I’d be the first to admit I have no skill at drawing women. If only they would grow facial hair, I’d be on more solid ground.

What I can notice, looking back at my drawings from early this year, is that I’m tackling bigger crowd scenes. I had to split before the final session of the day (what looked to be an excellent film by Nina Conti on ventriloquist’s puppets) as I was already worn out.

Finally, a big thanks to Ian for getting me into the conference as his “plus one”. I missed his talk about extreme taxidermy (yes, it was that kind of conference) but it was great to see him again.

Maps

WHALES R COOL

I’m getting to the point where a lot of my friends say to me, “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life”. I also don’t know what I’m doing, and I recently came to the conclusion that nobody does. Or if somebody does know, they are either very focused or fooling themselves.

In late 2009 and early 2010, I was laid up and spent a lot of time reading. One of the books I read was Nicholson Baker’s “U and I“, about Baker’s relationship with John Updike. In the early section, Baker admits his confusion and jealously about his career compared to his colleagues. It was nice to see somebody as literate and as clever as Baker put into words the way I feel about my career, although the words I might have chosen are “aargh what is my life doing how did they do that I suck aargh”.

When I went to the BCA Gallery in Bedford recently, artist Jo Roberts led a group of artists through a visualisation process where she asks artists to make a map of their career – from the start, to where they want to end. It was a pretty enjoyable way of spending some time with other artists, and I made the map of my career above. I totally forgot to put in where I want to end up, because I don’t know. But I’m fine with that.

Hitchin: Comparatively Bitchin’

I took myself over to Hitchin yesterday, despite feeling somewhat like poop, as my favourite art supply shop in the area had moved. For ages, Tim’s Art Supplies had been in a hidden-away corner of the town, occupying a small shop full of arts materials. Half of the challenge of shopping there was learning the layout of the shop! Then, last week, they suddenly sent me an email saying they’d moved and were now in a different street.

Despite my best intentions I only got there as the light was fading in the afternoon, and I had to rest for a bit doing drawings of Hitchin’s marvellously oddball architecture whilst supporting the local coffee shops.

I’ve scanned the above drawing into my computer using a slightly different method. I’m not sure if it looks OK though? Maybe. Well, good enough; there’s always a learning process with new technology, and I’m damned if I’m going to spend my entire time ballsing around with a scanner when I could be painting.

No-kay, Cupid

So, I joined an online dating site.

And then I fucking hated it.

Who knew the introverted unadventurous guy would quit online dating so soon? How surprising.

I messed around on the site for about three hours, filling in an endless questionnaire (which was kind of fun) and generated the above graph. It reminded me of the time that I went for a job interview at a Subway Sandwich shop, and they tried to see if I would be a good employee by asking me multiple choice questions. Just like after that interview, by the time I finished clicking an appropriate number of questions my brain went all squishy and useless.

Then I went and drew in my notebook for twenty minutes, and I felt loads better. I cannot stress how much better this simple activity made me as opposed to my digital socialising. Crazy, right? Who knew the introverted, artistic, unadventurous person would actually enjoy doing something that didn’t involve repeatedly clicking a mouse.

In my day-to-day life, it’s very unusual for me to even see a woman under 50, let alone talk to one, so it was nice to see that the wider world still contains people my own age. But the sort of online site that involves putting up a picture of you (Facebook, Google+, and dating sites) seems to totally do my head in, and part of my continued recovery is learning to avoid what does that. Still, I did get a nifty graph out of it.

Watercolour Overlay Chart

overlaid watercolour tones

I brought a new scanner, thinking it would make it a bit easier for me to get things up on my website, and then I found out that my website needs some work. Sadly, the people who I buy my hosting off have sort of dropped out of the personal hosting game, and are really only selling hosting to massive cloud-based enterprise businesses. I suspect whoever used to look after the cluster of servers for people like me has retired to a life of ostrich farming or something, as my server is just sooooooooo slow. Apologies for anybody who had a really long wait for this page to load in.

Above, you’ll see a chart showing what happens when you paint one colour over another. I like the translucency of watercolour paints, and I don’t understand how to use thick opaque paints like gouache or oils, so I thought I would try and make the most of it. This chart has already shown me several interesting greens that I wasn’t really aware of, around the cross-section of the blues and yellows.

 

 

How I Fought Capitalism on Tuesday

Yesterday I went to St. Paul’s cathedral, to join in with Occupy London. And to do some drawing. As you might know, I’ve got some health issues from being really sick a few years ago, so this was the first protest that I’ve been able to attend (as it involved sitting down somewhere and not walking around).

Such was my fear of being kettled that I walked the long, non-enclosed route from the tube station to the front of St. Paul’s. When I got there I saw loads of tents, tied down, and a fair few people milling around outside. There was even a guy in a miniskirt doing Irish dancing on the steps of the cathedral.

I sat down and produced my first sketch, below, but while I was doing it a sparkly-looking London researcher came up and wanted to talk to me. I said I’d rather get on with my drawing. Then, after a little while, an aggressive dick with an iPhone tried to ask me some questions about why I was there, but I told him I’d rather do my drawing. Although really I didn’t want to talk to him because he came across like a dick.

Other than annoying media-types, I didn’t talk to anybody else at the protest. A policeman did say that the top sketch was “GCSE-standard” after peeking over my shoulder, but thankfully they didn’t ask to see my artistic license. After a few hours, I decided to go somewhere to warm up (preferably somewhere that wouldn’t make me feel guilty about buying a coffee) before headed to the DACS/Artquest talk about artists in the current economic climate.

(Above: view from cafe near Holborn)

I felt a bit rubbish at the talk, probably owing to sitting outside in the wind for so long, and so I again completely failed at talking to anyone. A regular billy-no-mates, that’s me! The talk was about how recession and government policy would affect artists incomes, and what tactics they should use to maintain income. Bob and Roberta Smith, one of the speakers, was massively scathing of the current government, but also produced the funniest line of the night, pointing out that “if your son or daughter (who is involved in the arts) meets another person involved in the arts… then penury ensues”.

Both in the arts and elsewhere, there is a growing sense that merely being dissatisfied with the current power structures isn’t enough. I’m not sure how that will shake out, with either the people at St. Paul’s or the arts community, but a friend told me that it was important that I stood up to be counted. Technically, I sat down and refused to be quoted, but maybe that’s good enough.  

Bedside

I’m officially admitting defeat with gouache. I just can’t get it to do anything right when I put it on a paintbrush, which is kinda heartbreaking because I have a bunch of gouache in tubes.

I have to be truthful though; one of the reasons I thought I might like it was that it would wash out of my clothes. Back when I was doing my foundation year in college, I got so much acrylic paint on my clothes that it wasn’t even funny. Everything I wore had a smudgy goop of dried acrylic on it somewhere. I think that was the thing that made me quit making images more than anything else.

The Bubble

In her book about creativity, Twyla Tharp mentions the idea of “the Bubble”. This is when a creative person strips away all the extraneous stuff of their life, and commits themselves to making their art, structuring their life so that they focus exclusively on creation. Tharp gives the example of the writer Phillip Roth, who lived alone in the countryside, producing some of his most acclaimed work in a monastic existence.

This is pretty tempting. You see, I’ve been reading and researching into creativity – what it is, how we use it, and where we get the sense of what we want to do when we are being creative. One of the most interesting books in this area is a book about improv, the drama school thing of “making stuff up”, which is talked about at length by Keith Johnstone in his book “Impro“.

As I grew up,” begins his book, “everything started getting grey and dull.” Johnstone asks why we change from playful children to locked-down adults, and unpacks that shift from creativity to sober adulthood. He lays a lot of blame at schools, and I have to agree with him; I have never had a good learning experience at a school, college, or university. In fact, what I am doing today (writing, drawing, and making jokes), is stuff I was either told I couldn’t do, or I was actively told not to do.

So I’m pretty mad about my schooling.

If you do any research into art history, it soon becomes apparent that the people who are the best in their field are the people who started young. What our education does is set people up to have an understanding of many fields, but a specialisation in none – great if you’re going to be a manager, but crap if you want to specialise as a tradesman.

Of course, I couldn’t leave school at 14 and train to be an artist. I had a friend who left school at that age and trained to do carpentry for building sites, and he’s doing pretty well for himself. But there was a slot for him to drop into; there was a route for people to become tradesmen, like he did, but not a route for people to stay creative.

I find myself wondering if the current glut of stand-up comics is made of people not suited for the median-style management education, who have both intelligence and creativity but are taught to reject more traditional forms of expression as childish. Without being able to use any other media than language, where else would those people turn but comedy?