copyrightdavis

Thursday, 17 November 2011

The Banker Spoiler on the 149

Tell me - why is there always someone who spoils it for everyone? Lovely quiet book readers on the rare sedated 149 bus going south to Borough for a book launch and we get to The City and then Booming Over-Bred Dickhead Banker gets on and thunders into his G4 about absolutely nothing of any consequence whatsoever to, like, a friend of his? I turn 180 and stare at him and he blanks me so I keep staring at him and I can tell he starts losing the thread because his concentration levels are by now ever so slightly diminished. He can't look at me but starts to blush and stumble on his words and his interestingly stiff and elevated hair flattens itself in shame as if it wants to disown him, escape even, but it can't because it's attached to his thick over-gelled skull, and then, magically, his expensive ill-fitting clothes slowly unwrap themselves from his young, pudgy, over-ripe body and make their way downstairs eagerly waiting for the next stop. This is making him look even more stupid as he sits there naked with rich tears tumbling down his ruddy well-fed cheeks. By now, folk are pointing and laughing at this turgid mess. It's marvellous. I wonder how far he has to go? London Bridge please! All those people...

Interlude 004

Untitled.

Interlude 003

Light Sniffs Candle, Flowers Are Proud.

Interlude 002

I love it when these chance beauty-things crop up. I was just doing the washing up.

It's A Beautiful World 021

It's A Beautiful World 020

Friday, 14 October 2011

It's A Beautiful World 002

It's A Beautiful World 001

It's A Beautiful World Cover

About:
graphite, coloured pencil, acrylic, ink, oil monoprint, A4 paper, scan, Photoshop (very slightly).
If you don't like these drawings there's nothing I can do. Unglibly, unslickly, do let me know why.

©Paul Davis 2011

Unfortunately Back From Italy And Introducing The Next Episode In This Never-ending Battle For Recognition

Now back in London and I have to say I'm really looking forward to the perpetual overhead duvet of gloom that'll be above us weeping occasionally pretty much every day until late May/early June. So to keep busy and to show my six or seven close friends that I'm easily the best and most thoughtful person on this planet, I'll be posting a 30-odd page book called 'It's A Beautiful World' over the next few days/weeks/years/never. I do hope you seven gorgeous friends, you septet of loveliness, you coalition of joyousness, you gang of bastards, enjoy it - and even if only one of you like it, it makes it worthwhile (like fuck). It's a positive book full of wisdom and insight and laughter.
Obviously these drawings aren't commissioned; they are again unpublishable in today's market (unless you have the balls to do it). Coffee table book on The History Of Banality anyone? Would you like a pointless authorised eighteen year-old celebrity autobiography (part one of one I pray) ghosted by some talentless hack dancing on the coat-tails of someone else's primped and appalling fame flapping the remittance advice of his obscenely huge advance in his sweaty, dirty little palm?

Or this book, this uncovering of my soul, this baring of my distilled existence? I'ts obviously for sale so stop thinking of something interesting to Tweet or posting a photo of an interesting deformity and let's do something - it's simple: I can give you my bank details and off we go. Everything else has failed: the politeness, the bowing, the buying of lunches, the biting of the corporate pillow, so even though it's not really in my character to ask, I want something back and I want one of you, out there, to help me.