Mrs Norman - Mrs Norman's Guide to Housekeeping and Etiquette

January 26, 2010

Why My Friends Are Awesome pt. 29

Today I discovered that OMD performed Enola Gay with the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. I've already been behind painfully Last Month this week, so I have no doubt that most of you probably already knew this - especially given that the performance was back in June. In case you hadn't, here's the only clip YouTube has to offer:

Anyway, the point about Enola Gay is that it *always* makes me think of my friend Jef. In particular, it reminds me of Jef! The Musical, a particularly amazing rock opera that a group of my friends composed for his 25th birthday over the course of little more than a week. If I could share the magic with you, believe me I would, but somehow I think everyone involved (bar me) would prefer it if I didn't. Maybe I'll let you listen through one of my headphones one day, how about that?

In any case, 2004 was the year that we made extremely involved presents for each other, with other highlights including Oli's 5.1 surround sound song à la Flaming Lips, the too-rude-for-family-viewing I ♥ Nineteen Eighty-Mike and the rather splendid The Passion of Alien vs. Predator, a cinematic triumph conflating the story of Jesus' last days and Ridley Scott's masterpiece, with a dash of Charlie Brown and Snoopy thrown in for good measure. Plus, I got to fondle a puppet and get a bucket of water thrown over me. For someone who always wanted to get gunged that was a pretty special moment, let me tell you.

Things started relatively small with a robot built out of scrap for Steve (later known as Stevebot, who went on to star in The Passion of Alien vs. Predator) but quickly took on a life of their own. When it came to Jef and his bemused reaction to Jef! The Musical (full title must *always* be cited), he had no one to blame but himself. "What are you going to do for me?" he'd said, "write me a rock opera?!"

Being involved in making these presents were some of the most fun times I've ever had. I've no doubt it was more fun making most of them than the recipients had when they were subjected to given them. What I feel sorry for is that not everyone involved in each of the projects got something of their own - which is why mine has become an especially treasured possession, the one thing I'd most likely save if my house was on fire. For the observant amongst you, you'll also notice it's where this little blog gets (part of) its name from.

So, then, this blog is in part testament to how much my awesome friends mean to me - I hope this shows them, even if I don't see half of them as much I'd like.

Edited Highlights from The Jennifer Newman Guide to Housekeeping and Etiquette (Dawson Press, 2004)

Mind games (Paul's puzzle) aside mind games (Ash's play)

James' self portrait aside Oli's untapped literary genius writing

This still makes me smile

Ash loved me enough to scribble all over his dishwasher warranty

Martin knows it's true

No wonder Paul became the doyen of quiz shows

And how could I forget to include this?

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Filed under // An Ending (Ascent) Ash Verjee brfuk Brian Eno Friends James Weiner Kirmie Oli Horton Paul Soulsby Richard Whitelock Steve Dawson The Passion of Alien vs. Predator Trademark

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January 6, 2010

Best Music Video Ever?

Maybe not, but it *is* awesome.

[Snow pictures and creative-endeavour updates to follow.]

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December 8, 2009

Drawing Conclusions

I've been banging on long enough about my experiences with drawing, but due to a technical error (also known as 'carelessly formatting memory card') I lost the pictures I wanted to include and, as such, delayed putting fingers to keyboard to write the post to go with them. I should also admit that I haven't minded the procrastination: this isn't gong to be a pretty story, but sometimes brutal honesty is the only option.

-- What's This All About, Then? --

Perhaps I need to recap the context in which this recent preoccupation with drawing has developed... Back in Week 1 of the Central Saint Martins course, the Seed of Fear was sown by the promise of a drawing brief a couple of weeks down the line. Being someone who gave up on the formal pursuit of art (creation, not critique) at the age of 14 specifically because I clearly had no aptitude for this skill - and have ever since been troubled by this failing - I was not looking forward to it. No, not one bit of me felt comfortable with the prospect of creating my own pictures using my own hands. Nevertheless, I steeled myself. I tried to temper the normative cognition I cannot draw with the more rational thought It doesn't matter, just relax, it'll be fine!

So one Saturday morning, I set off to meet most of my fellow classmates just outside Borough Market, ready to take on the challenge of connecting eye to hand and coming up with something usable for the next week's magazine layout brief. My pencils were sharpened, my sketchbook was ready and, most importantly, I had a goddamn smile on my face. I was going to beat this demon with my newly found confidence - I might even reveal a hitherto unknown style that would wow my fellow students with its raw genius! Well I had to bolster myself *somehow* didn't I?

Over the course of the next few hours we drew and drew and drew: sketch something for 1 minute -- sketch the ugliest thing you can find -- sketch something in minute detail -- sketch something at three times its real size -- sketch everything you see so it fills one page -- sketch some scenes form interesting angles -- sketch sketch sketch!

With each task my confidence drained away: if anything, my drawing became worse than ever. I began to feel the familiar feeling of frustration at not being immediately able to do something perfectly. And then I saw the other's work. Oh my goodness. Not one of them was outwardly displaying the same inner conflict that I found myself unable to hide. Their pictures looked like stuff, not just oddly placed lines awkwardly marked, but actual real things that you could recognise. I sighed, inwardly and outwardly. I'm not proud of myself, but I could feel the emotion rising up and bubbling quite literally out of me. I had to turn around to hide the last bit of my confidence drop out of my eyes as I kept my sketchbook tight to myself to prevent the humiliation that would no doubt ensue.

It was not one of my finest moments. And what's worse is the sense of injustice I felt - Suck it up, Jenny! It's not everyone else's fault that you never put in the hours to develop your drawing skills!

Tsk.

-- What Happened Next --

Aside from spending the best part of fifty quid on delicious treats, inlcuding enough olives to see you through a nuclear apocalypse, in the typical shopping-cures-all-emotional-problems, I decided that enough was enough. In the short term, I needed some illustrations for the next week's brief, but beyond that I felt like I had to face this drawing demon once and for all.

I made my way to Waterstone's just before closing and headed for the kids section where, while bent with my bottom in the air - elegant as ever - tying my needlessly long shoelaces up, I asked the eager-to-get-home shop assistant if there were any good books to help develop drawing skills. She immediately picked out the one I'd secretly hoped I could one day justify buying for myself - Quentin Blake's Drawing for the Artistically Undiscovered. At the till she asked me how old the child I was buying it for was. Muttering the 'twenty' I said the 'eight' unnecessarily loudly. Perfect, she said as she smiled through the slightly troubled look on her face. Let's hope so, I thought.

-- How the Story Ends (Part One) --

I'd love to tell you that I've now conquered all my drawing fears, that I'm now most relaxed with a pencil in my hand and can render almost recognisable forms. Unfortunately this is a little way off yet. Nevertheless, the Quentin Blake book has been a real help to me, and gave me the boost I needed to get my shit togther to go and draw some new pictures. I didn't end up with many, but you can see the fruits of my labours below. Not all were taken from life - I admit that I'd naughtily taken some snappers of the market while I was there - but I did try to salvage some of the sketches I'd taken on the day. (Though I've kept some of these for my..private collection.)

I've also decided to submerge myself in the world of drawing for a solid 5 days. It may turn out to be a form of self inflicted torture, may drive me over the edge once and for all, but I figured it was worth a shot. I'm going to spend next week under the tutelage of Guy Noble as I'm taking the Introduction to Drawing course offered as part of the CSM Christmas School. Well, at what other time of year are you allowed to be so (potentially) miserable?!

One thing's for sure - I am improving. Wish me and my confidence luck.

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Filed under // Borough Market Central St Martins Confidence Drawing Illustration Improvement Nuclear Apocalypse Quentin Blake

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December 4, 2009

Geek ♥

It's been a real long time since I wrote anything worth reading here, but I've got some pictures and links lined up and ready to go. Unfortunately a combination and work and general malaise have prevented me managing to post anything, but I'm working on rectifying that and will hopefully - finally - put the Borough Market drawing debacle up this afternoon in all its glory.

Until then, Peter Crawley pointed this out this morning. I think I am a little bit in love with his Twitter stream, he has a knack for uncovering real gems. Thank you, Mister Crawley, for brightening my days.

Now, watch this. It's fucking A. (You can even download the song for free. Thanks Jark and Mason!)

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Filed under // Beards Geek Geek Love Lady Ga Ga Parody Typography

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November 18, 2009

Enjoy

After two days in Swindon, I really need something to perk me up.

I've chosen 1988.

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Filed under // 1980s 1988 Genius

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November 13, 2009

What's that? It's Friday again?

I've seen so much amazing work this week, but have had no time to share any of it. Massively frustrating, my head's been buzzing with thoughts and excitement. It's good to remember you feel passionate about things.

These stitched illustrations by Peter Crawley couldn't go without mentioning, though. I love the architectural ones. Pretty sweet, eh? The one above seemed especially relevant right now.

Rest assured more is coming...soon.

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Filed under // Coming Soon Illustration Peter Crawley Stitch

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November 6, 2009

Just 17 Rocked*

[*when I was 13]

I thought this deserved a mention all of it's own.

Classic 90s Cover

And look at Rupert!

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Filed under // 1980s 1990s Just 17 Madonna Teenage Angst

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November 6, 2009

When I was 17 _ _ _ #2

Wow, that last post was a bit long. I'll keep this one short: here's the second idea I had for the brief.

I'm missing a picture of the final piece, but it's basically trimmed down to the just one girl in her pants protruding from the other's head. Much prefer this one, but I'm still left wondering: where are my fancy pants techniques? I'll err on the side of simplicity for now.

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Filed under // 17 Central St Martins Graphic Design Illustration

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November 6, 2009

When I was 17 _ _ _ #1

Before I get to recalling the horrors of embarrassing myself last weekend at Borough Market, here's what I've been up to this week for the illustration brief.

-- Context --

At our first class together, we were all given a photocopied piece of paper with When I was Seventeen _ _ _ written on it.

We were asked to complete the sentence as these would be used for an illustration brief. Anonymity was assured. I failed to catch on to the fact that this would be *our* brief, but I should have put two and two together. If I had, I may have chosen to write something a little less..telling. Anyway, two weeks ago these sentences were pulled out again, and handed out amongst us.

-- The Brief --

I doubt you've guessed this part, but the instructions were: Illustrate your sentence.

My sentence: When I was 17 I had a Saturday job in a lingerie shop.

-- What I've Done --

As usual, we were told to come up with ten ideas for how we could illustrate our sentences before we left the class. I find this a really hard task, as I'm not used to having to be so formal about creative endeavours. Ideas sort of crop up as I'm doing other things, not generally while I'm sat staring at my notebook. But as I've never studied anything like this formally - I gave up art at school because I can't draw (a topic I'll return to..) - I think it's great that I'm being forced to do this, because I normally set about a task and end up changing my mind over and over again. Maybe if I adopted this approach I'd save myself a lot of time and effort (thinking of the bits I make at work)?

Having said that, though, I have to admit that I haven't yet managed to combine these planned ideas with what I end up producing. Sure, elements remain, but invariably once I start doing something it takes on a life of its own, short as that life may eventually be. I think this is something I need to avoid doing quite so much in future projects - or rather, I should at least attempt to follow the process through to its conclusion once.

Anyway, last week was a bit of a write-off as far as doing work on this brief was concerned. I also didn't feel that that pressured as we technically had two weeks, and I did spend time thinking about what I could do. I ended up going on a lingerie catalogue mission, visiting every lingerie shop on Oxford Street and round Soho. In the end, it was a Bravissimo catalogue sent through the post that proved to be the best source of girls not wearing much. At least my mission round Soho wasn't in vain - I picked up a great frill and some suspender clips. not as fancy as I may have liked, but still.

So, the lingerie part of the sentence seemed fairly easy to illustrate - colours, materials, catalogues to cut up.. I wanted to find an edge that wasn't so obvious, but unfortunately I don't think I've achieved this. Perhaps lateral thinking isn't my strong point - any ideas how to cultivate this skill?

The other element I wanted to capture was that of being 17. In this first example, I tried to intimate it with the background and beads - though I'm kind of thinking that this might not be quite right, maybe it's a bit young - as well as with a section from the 'Smart Girl' 1964 Annual. There was such a brilliant article about the journey from girl to woman via sensible undergarments it seemed churlish to ignore it.

As is often the case, I've since had (what I think is) a better idea, but time is against me and I haven't yet produced it. That would have dealt with the 17 *and* Saturday part, so perhaps (during this mythical free time I often invoke) I'll get round to producing it sometime soon.

Here's a few pictures from Tuesday night, when I finally broke out the Pritt Stick and got going.

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Filed under // 17 Central St Martins Graphic Design Illustration

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November 5, 2009

Look Good & Be Fun

EVERYTHING should be packaged with Harmless Packaging.

Don't get me wrong, I'd like to save the world and everything, but mostly I want the things in my life to i) look good and ii) be fun.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I picked up the November issue of Creative Review while waiting for the train on Tuesday (first opportunity since pay day, which I've now rectified with a student - ha! - subscription). It came wrapped in a slightly murky looking plastic bag because it had a free Heidelberg Process Colour Guide. But hang on, what's that? Massive letters across the front pronounce that 'This Bag Dissolves In Water'. My curiosity was piqued; the deal was sealed. I was obviously going to buy it.

Now I'd like to say that I've never bought something primarily for its packaging, but that would be a little way from the truth. Following the mantra of my life (see above) I have come to possess various ephemera that are invariably put at the bottom of a drawer or back of a cupboard after completing their regulation apprenticeship somewhere amongst the rest of my shit valued possessions on my bedroom floor. But I still won't throw it away. I like the surprise of rediscovering old shit that's still awesome.

Unfortunately, this packaging won't be joining the ranks of Stuff I Own. It has been dissolved.

But this story is not without its drama. As I handed over the magazine at the till, the sales assistant opened the bag and removed both the magazine and the colour guide to find the barcode. I was tense. I suspected he might not give me the bag back. Then my plans would be scuppered. I waited with baited breath (and possibly with eyes that betrayed my inner panic) as he manhandled the magazine back into the wrapper. But in the end it was (predictably) all ok and it was approximately seven minutes before I removed both again and settled down to read the magazine cover to cover on the journey from London to Oxford.

Anyway, to cut a short story shorter, as soon as I got home I filled the sink with hot water and embraced the spectacle that unfolded. I particularly enjoyed the goopiness midway through its metamorphosis. If I'd thought about it a bit more, I could have taken some better snaps but as it is, I was more interested in the actual dissolving than documenting it. So, in case you'd prefer to see this done with more precision and nicer photos, this is how Creative Review dissolved their own plastic packaging.

I almost want to buy another copy just to do it again.

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Filed under // Creative Review Harmless Packaging Play Style and Substance

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