Before I write anything else you need to go and look at Cat O’Neil’s work, because she was the genesis of this whole ridiculous adventure. She’s a very clever illustrator. Go on, look at it now. I can wait.
So we went on an adventure to the deep south of England not America, which is a shame because it doesn’t sit somewhere between O Brother Where Art Thou and I Love You Philip Morris in the depths of my imagination. Nonetheless, Cat was on her way to the AOI Best of British illustrators exhibition opening and I don’t have anything better to do on weekends so I went too. Being near London, we went to visit my sister who lives in Cambridge, which looks like this:Nice eh? They have a thing like a canteen which they call “hall” which has huge paintings of dead old white men in gowns and moustaches and stained glass windows and things. In between sipping cheap champagne on a punt and drinking cider with my geriatric art student godmother, we explored the town:
and met some Cambridge students, who are the brightest and best:
Then we got on a train and went to London.
Actually I haven’t drawn much in London, because we were so busy being rushed, wine-wielding, around patronising galleries and being ushered into theatres by men with white gloves, etc. Well, actually going getting exhausted in the Tate and lost on the subway and things.
This sums it up though. This pretty much sums up my experience in London every time. Anyway, we made it to the opening, Cat got a special mention from a famous man with sideburns, I drank some wine and thought about how earnestly I needed to get back to the studio and make new things, or else start a career as Cat’s trophy husband. Not necessarily a bad idea, but I leave you with a collaboration between Cat, myself, and a Dead Old White Man.