Category Archives: General

Triathletes have been known to chillax!

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A friend of mine who owns a sports marketing company, is fiendishly fit and who retains a number of British and World Records in swimming (yes, I so know a person like that – yay me!), recently asked me to draw a cartoon to advertise a BBQ celebrating the end of the triathlon season.  I’m tired just thinking about a whole season of triathlons.

Anyway, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to sketch some athletes relaxing around a campfire, sipping their energy drinks and toasting marshmallows.  This is my sort of relaxation (without the triathlon before hand of course).  I wonder if Jess Ennis, Mo Farah and GB’s other gold medalists can be found, eating hamburgers and swaying to bit of Bob Marley post-Olympics?

Olympic mayhem

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7.30: We set off to watch Japan play The Republic of Korea for the Olympic bronze medal in the women’s volleyball.   Destination: London.

7.50: L notices that our train is not displayed on the information board. Manic ticket checking and re-checking ensues.

8.00: Eight minutes before expected departure, harried discussions between ticket operator and other half reveals our train is due to leave from Nottingham, not Sheffield i.e. the city where we used to live, not the city we currently live in.   Remain calm,  all is not lost, let’s consider our options:

A) don’t go
B) pay for new tickets
C) cry

8.27: We board the train with newly purchased tickets. Still time to make the match but it will be a squeeze.

8.35: The realisation that we’ve made a fatal error when choosing where to sit for the journey. We are now opposite a family of 5, including three children under 5yrs, but we can’t find new seats because the train is packed! The smallest of the three children starts to cry. The middle child takes umbridge at the fact that she is being ignored by her mother whose focused on the baby and starts to nag in a whiney voice.

9.50: All attempts at catching up on sleep are thwarted by screaming children. One child has excitedly dismembered a bread roll and scattered the crumbs along the corridor – presumably in a vain attempt to feed the ducks.  Other passengers exchange looks of dissapproval.

9.55: The train has come to an unexpected standstill, no one is quite sure why.

9.57: A train operator announces over the tannoy:
‘We have come to a stop’. This is obvious. She adds,
‘The emergency alarm has been activated,’  this is also apparent as her voice is barely audible over the high pitched, siren wailing in the background.
‘The driver is investigating the problem, sorry for any inconvenience’.
The screeching children next to us are momentarily drowned out by the collective groan of the passengers.

10.20: Another tannoy announcement informs us that ‘train…forward…patience…fixed’, the information is incomprehensible due to the fizzing and crackling of the speakers, however the alarm is still audible.  Our hopes of watching the Olympic game are ebbing away…

10.40. The train creeps forward to a round of applause and cheers from the passengers.

10.41: An announcement: ‘ladies and gentlemen, we have been unable to fix the problem and you will be required to disembark at the next station’.  This time the groan from the passengers is of Olympic proportions.

10.45: All passengers disembark and wonder around the platform looking dazed and confused with no instruction from the train operators. It’s a bit like a scene from Zombies without the blood and guts.

10.56: Like sheep we follow a group of people who seem to know something. In turn, other people follow us and before you know it, we have all started to board another train with no evidence that it will take us to our destination.

The passengers who were already on the alternative train look aghast as 200+ disgruntled travellers squeeze in and jostle for space.

Now we stand like sardines, nose to nose, kept upright by the sheer number of people in the corridors and vestibules. We still have had no formal confirmation that the train is going to London. Thankfully, moments later we hear someone with a cockney accent utter the words St Pancras followed by ‘…in 40 minutes!’ which means we will certainly miss the start of the game.

11.45. We arrive in London and make haste to the underground.

12.30: Having reached our final station, we find that the venue is still a 15 minute walk away. By now tempers are frayed. The game, according to our iPhone app, is already nearly over.

We debate whether it’s worth it, having paid a considerable sum of money for the tickets and the train fare, and the other train fare…

12.45: We enter the venue after being searched and scanned by a number of bored looking soldiers.

12.50 with a sigh, we sit in our allocated seats amid chants of Nipon, Nipon, NIPON. The scoreboard shows Japan are in the lead.

13.00:  No sooner had I unpacked my camera, taken the obligatory photo, updated my Facebook status and clapped at a point, the game ended. Probably the most expensive ten minutes of any sport I have ever had the privilege of watching.

Map Schmap!

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One of the best things about living in Sheffield is the proximity to the Peak District.  If you’re the spontaneous type (which I am) and fancy a short walk on a sunny summer’s evening, then you can be on the hills within 15 minutes and can walk until sun sets.

Since we’ve moved here, we often head out after work to breathe in the fresh air and wash away the day’s drudgery on England’s green and pleasant land.   In our part of the Peaks there are huge expanses of rolling heathland that intermittently come to an abrupt end where the cliff faces of Stannage Edge or Froggat Edge drop away into the valleys.  The rocky outcrops are a mecca for climbers, walkers, joggers and evening strollers, but if you go late enough, you can find yourself alone in the wilderness with wild grouse, hares, weasels and kestrels for company.

L and I are still finding our way around and we’ll often deviate from our pre-planned route to explore a new path or take in a new vista.  Unfortunately, my enthusiasm for this, coupled with my failure to carry a map every time we go for a walk, often leads to unwanted adventures…

Fits and starts

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I recently set myself a mission – to draw something at least once a day, even if it is just a quick 10 minute sketch.  I lectured myself; “If you want to improve your drawing skills, then staring at your sketchbook is less likely to bring results than actually picking up a pen and making marks on the paper”.  A friend tells me that writers are encouraged hone their skills with daily scribing exercises – if you force yourself into the habit of writing something every day, soon the words will just flow out of you without any effort.

The problem is, I’m not terribly good with missions, resolutions or practice.  I want to be good at playing the guitar, photography, drumming, drawing, writing etc., and I want it instantaneously!  Alas, to be good at these things takes time and effort,  two things that don’t sit well with a procrastinator.    I envy those people who are driven, focused and goal oriented – wouldn’t it be nice to know where your future lies and head for it without distraction.   My motivations peak and trough depending on the weather, the time of month, the day of the week, who I chat to or simply whether I’m caffeinated.

Two months ago, I was pressing ahead with my photography – practicing landscapes and devouring the tips in photography magazines. This month I’m determined to improve my drawing, looking for ideas in everything I do but not always finding them.  So what happens when you get artists’ block? Is it OK to save yourself for those moments of inspiration even if it means weeks can pass before it hits you?  Should I worry that my ‘mission’ isn’t quite on course, and my daily practice may slide into weekly?