Bonsoir. (I have two language settings: English and Foreign. Once some words from one foreign language get in my head, it’s tough for me to get them out and revert to the other foreign language I need to use. Ever since I arrived back in Berlin, it’s been s’il vous plait this, merci beaucoup that, much to my annoyance in the supermarket.)
Anyway, that was a perfectly superfluous tangent; here’s a drawing I did on the flight home from Paris. It’s called Bored mountains.
I was sat next to a French business man on the aeroplane. When I began to write in my notebook, I could feel him reading my innermost thoughts (“check Google for quite-nice-looking-when-chucking-a-javelin Dutch heptathlon lass,” “check Google for really tall, slightly goofy-looking, but still damn cute Russian volleyball player,” etc.). So I stopped writing and decided to give him the freaky-art-student-doodle-show.
I tend to be quite self-conscious when drawing in public, and usually do all I can to shield my drawing from any onlookers; but if someone’s gonna stare, it’s all I can do to stop myself drawing eagles with big spunky cocks and swastika armbands. So this bored mountains picture was a rather restrained result when one considers the options. I have since tarted it up in Photoshop with some nice dour colours, of course.
It’s up to you to decide why the mountains are bored. For me, they’re at a rock (ha! ha!) festival, waiting for Kilimanjaro to come on stage, who’s late cos he’s still backstage doing cocaine with K2 and McKinley.
I do wonder why I drew this, though. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the reason I think they’re bored at a rock festival is that I had just been at a rock festival myself. And earlier that day I’d been watching the women’s shot put on Eurosport, and their Alan Partridgesque commentator had described Belarusian silver medallist Nadzeya Ostapchuk as a “woman mountain.” That’s probably why I drew mountains with faces in the first place.
As you were…