What's the emperor wearing?

In life, truth is most often self evident but an unfortunate aspect of human behaviour that is frequently manifest in diverse cultures throughout history, is the denial of that which is obvious, to service an agenda in conflict with truth. That's something that you should tell your kids now if you haven't already done so because it'll save them a lot of confusion, consternation and grief, it will arm them with the ability to confront the appalling deceit so frequently manifest in the media and public life. Once armed with the knowledge imparted by this axiom the destruction inflicted by catastrophes such as The Great War and the EU single currency as well as the equivocation and deceit that surround issues like Global Warming are much more easily reconciled by the rational mind. Even so, making a stand for truth in this circumstance, however obvious it may be, will not be easy, not one tiny bit, so it's difficult to justify saying that making such a stand is morally requisite in the light of the knowledge that doing so can seriously impair your own well being. There are certain circumstances though, where such a stance will be necessary because the price for acquiescence will just be too high.

Air Chief Marshal Hugh Caswall Tremenheere Dowding, 1st Baron Dowding GCB, GCVO, CMG

So who's Hugh Dowding and how does the first paragraph relate to him? In case you didn't know, Dowding's the man who saved the world, there's more than a remote chance that, without his efforts, we'd be banging rocks together today, as far as Europe is concerned anyway. Dowding was the Air Chief Marshal tasked with the responsibly for fighter command during the crucial period of the Battle of Britain. His career seems to be marked by confrontation with his superiors and opposing interests, even so his rare administrative competence saw his retirement deferred. Dowding had to contend to with a great many idiots in British military and political life, during The Battle of France he fought against those who wanted to deplete Britain's fighter force in France in response to French pressure, even though the French were already evacuating many of their own aircraft to north africa at the time.

During the Battle of Britain the German airforce's main tactical advantage lay in the fact that their fighter force were approaching at altitude, giving them a considerable advantage in aerial combat. Dowding recognised this and and organised staggered assaults on the German bombers, so the German fighters would need to lose altitude to engage the first assault, this would negate the altitude advantage over subsequent assaults. This tactic was in direct opposition to the prevalent doctrine, which required mass assaults. This was fostered by losses during the battle of France, the Hurricane aircraft performed much better than is generally appreciated but suffered when heavily outnumbered by the opposing me109's

It seems he was also instrumental in the modification of the Hawker Hurricane, which suffered a serious design flaw in regard to its internal reserve fuel tank. He insisted that this Fuel tank, which lay aft of the engine firewall, separated only by the instrument panel from the pilot, should be protected by a fire resistant material. This incident says much about his attention to detail and his awareness of the battlefield, an awareness that was so often lacking amongst contemporaries.

Of course this state of affairs was never going to last, someone competent in charge and Dowding was soon replaced after it seems he fell foul of unrealistic demands to stem the German night time bombing campaign.

The doodle files 4

Got a new pencil last week, it's a chunky clutch pencil that takes massive leads, it came some with sepia ones, which are a bit like the Steadler non-print leads in texture. That means you hafta do the drawing in one hit, the lines don't erase too well off soft surfaces but it seems as though this pencil has got a way with that emulation of the classic British comic style I was trying to do the other week. I've been much more successful with it, as I tried a couple of Ken Reid characters first.

First attempt, I used some of the Frankie Stein stuff I'd seen around on the web as a guide, I noticed some aspects of Ken Reid's hand, he had a way of doing sickle shaped curves that I managed to emulate a bit on the chin, nose is odd though.

Now it the turn of Frankie's "dad", used some reference again, hasn't quite got the right look, the mouth isn't expressive enough, in fact it looks a bit like my dad, I dunno if I should admit that.

First try without reference, looks more Baxendale than Reid but that's ok, he's good too. I think I went a bit too far with the adam's apple as well.

Tea

Does anyone have any idea why drinking tea should be so intensely satisfying? I mean it doesn't taste of much except for a hint of soggy leaf mould. I've been drinking it too long to remember how I started although I do recall I took sugar with it, then when sugar was in short supply my craving for it overcame my distaste for it unsweetened. After many years as a hold out, I've started to use tea bags again recently and I have to say the ones you can get today are a significant improvement over their soda laden counterparts from years ago.

The Life of Samuel Nathan Taylor

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Here's an old one, never too sure what to with this. Wrote it in a state of quite spectacular distress, obviously it should be extended but I just can't bring myself to fill in the blank at the end. Of course I know what's going on cos I wrote it but I kinda like the way it's not explicit. Anyway I'm not sure if the dialect could be sustained over anything longer than about 5000 words, even at that length it would get a bit tedious. There's the option of swapping into the 3rd person or a different first person identity, maybe even something epistolic.  I did monkey with idea of a segue into a comic format, kinda gradual with pictures appearing in text first.

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No I dun get me no schoolin', none of any account that is. That being so 'cause ah they let me go from school when that boy Charlie Webb done broke ma slate. The teacher told me I had to pay for another. That Charlie Webb he broke my slate 'cause he were jealous of me 'n' that Peggy Tranter. She were a pretty girl and she were kina sweet on me, tell the truth I were kina sweet on her too. Charlie he's as ugly as mules backside see and twice as stupid but he were burly fellow for his age. So one day he took a mind to beat on me. Well he bein' a burly fellow an' me, I was e'en more scrawny then, he beat on me pretty good, then he smash ma slate just for measure. They weren't our slates see, they were the schools but we're kind mindin' them while we learnt to write and sum an' all. Charlie weren't so stupid as to beat on me infruna the teacher mind. When she saw me an' that broke slate she wouldn't take no mind of me tellin' about it bein' Charlie that broke it.

Paw wouldn't stump up fur the slate, when teacher told him how much it'd cost an' that it was slate from Corn Wall England an' he'd hafta get the money. He got so angry he beat my hide as red as cherry on a bonnet an ‘told me I had get to work an' earn the money to pay the school myself. Course he weren't my real paw, my real paw died some while afore.

No don't remember my real paw too good, I were no more'n kickin' at the buttercups when he gone died. He worked at the tannin mill, ya see the air in that tannin mill is kinda salty, it don't do folk no good to breathe it too long. He weren't around much when I was a youngun he'd be spenin' his time at work course he were breathin' that salty air all that time. Well as I say you can't go chasing pigs without gettin' shit on your legs and pretty soon he'd tender for all that time he's a breathin' that air. First he gets kinda yella, which is the way they go, then he gets ill and takes to bed, pretty soon he's gone.

Yeah day o' the funeral ma's sobin' an' a cryin' I tries to comfort her, she looked at me those tears all rainin' down her face I could hardly look in the eye it where such a sorrowful sight but one thing my real paw done learned me was that a man don't weep even if his heart is a burstin' with sorrow. "What are we gonna do Nate?" she sobs. Course I being a bairn an all, I didn't know what she meant, not then anyhow. Some days later we moved home, ma sold most o' our belongins, I recon all that doctorin' paw had when he were ill must have cost a bit so she had to get the money from somewhere.

No we didn't move into a house, it were just a room at the weigh station it were a mite less comfortable than our old home but as ma said it were better'n sleep'n under the crows. Ma paid for water at the station an she were allowed to take as much as she want an' that's how she kept the wolf away, by doing the laundry of folk who worked in the station. It weren't long afore folk in town learn'd about the laundry an' were askin' ma to take it their linen too. It were extra work but with me helpin' as I could and ma paid two of the boys at the station to do the fetchin' pretty soon she were doin' better than keep'n the wolf away.

As I said, I helped as I could but me being a bairn and so scrawny it were of little account. You know sometimes when I'm low I get to thinkin' of those days about me an' ma, in that room. I 'member that smell of soap, we wouldn't speak much. Sometime I used to look at her as she were workin' she'd have her hair tied under a bonnet but it would hang out at the front so when she'd go to the winda to hold the linen to the light those curls of hair would kinda come alight with a red glow an' she'd have this look on her face like you'd see on the statues in church. Anyway those days didn't last long, see the chinamen came along an' started takin' in laundry. Course it don't take more'n a sack o'beans to feed a dozen chinamen for a month, an' they seemed to pull water outa thin air, that were the end of days takin' in laundry.

Things were tight after that, ma she'd pick up some work here an' there but it were more beans than bacon. One day ma pulled on some o' her fine garments an' it weren't Sunday at all. Then she done somethin' I never seen her do afore she paint on her lips I'd seen women with lips like that but I never knew how they got that way, I though they were born like it. Well I must a bin starin' like I were a hungry dog 'cause she looked away from the glass an' caught me lookin' and she just stopped what she were doin' for a while a starin' back at me. Seemed like forever neither of us speakin' a word. Then I saw her take a piece o' cloth to her lip and just as she were a wipin' the red off she looked down at my boots. See when I took 'em off it were my habit to lay 'em on their soles but I must've forgot, one of 'em must've been layin' on it's side so she saw the holes in 'em. "You need new boots Nate!" she said to me, then put that paint back on her lip. When she finished she put a smile on, broader than I'd seen for a long while but as soon as she looked away from the glass that smile dropped from her face like it'd never been there.

Pastels

Pastels I like 'em, the drawing that people who're good with them produce and mucking about with 'em myself. Unfortunately I'm not very good with them, actually I should say I'm quite bad with them, if not very bad. There are a few problems in using them because there's no art shop here so to get materials I need to trek 20 miles to nearest one or order on-line. The other thing is that decent paper is no longer available it seems, or at least not easily at a reasonable price. That's another one of those frustrations that seem to increasingly be a problem for artists, a lot the items we used to take for granted are now gone or difficult to get hold of. You can get that sort lumpy paper, what's it called Canson but that has to be made of linen to be any use and the stuff I can find feels like drawing on cotton wool.

Anyway I got a roll of 90gsm Kraft Paper off e-bay and it seems reasonable quality, unfortunately it's ribbed, I don't mind that so much but it impairs the saleability of drawings. Incidentally the calendared side of Kraft (not all of it is calendered) is an excellent inking surface, better than Bristol board and a tenth of the price but bleached Kraft is now almost impossible to get retail in this country. Anyway I took a couple of snaps of my latest effort, executed in my piteously laboured style.

The face has come out a bit pasty here, that does happen if you view the drawing at an angle before it's been fixed. The hair is just awful as well, too much heat, I know I should use green as a base for blonde but I just can't get out of the habit of using a red earth colour.

I did a little more to it after this, you can see a nasty dark area under the  mouth on the left that I moderated. I also made the mouth a bit pinker. Don't think I'll do much more, I might try to flog it but I think I need a lot more practice before I can ask people to pay for 'em.