So apparently it never snows in Bristol

This time last year I was packing my bags for a week of snowboarding, hot chocolates with brandy and a heap of Italian food. Package me off and send me back now (airholes would be greatly appreciated.)



Oh how life changes in a year.

All Hallows Eve

Lets do it like the Americans.

This was my pumpkin last year, lets call him Jeffrey. This year I'm going to make a Jeffrey Junior who will kick his little orange butt.

Macs Vs Pc's

Literally don't get me started.

A Brain that Wobbles

Bank Holiday.

I hope the banks, bankers and bankees had a good day off because I was working my little butt off.

Hello Blogging world. I like owls.

I didn't think I had ever used this website before but it would seem apparent I have been a member since 2006? Sure.

I thought I'd take the time out of my busy Friday night to tell readers of the interweb about the reoccurring subject of my current drawings, owls!

When I was little I loved owls, loved them. I had a book called The Owl who was Afraid of the Dark.
This fluffy feathered creature goes by the name of Plop and I suppose you could say he was the inspiration to my excessive owl collection. May I add be careful when telling family you love something because before you know it, every birthday and Christmas is themed with that beloved object. The amount of ornaments, cuddly toys and owl 'things' I had by the time I was a wise (no pun intended) age of 13 was ridiculous, it made me wish I hadn't said anything!

I feel my love for owls is like the freshness of a new idea. You can over work it while trying to think of something better. You can also change your mind but that original idea will always hold something more exact and personal that hits the spot a lot better then its proceeding not so meaningful ideas. In this case my following collections included bouncy balls, satisfyingly fun until they all bounced away. Furby's, yes I had 4 and proud... Their batteries quickly ran out. Then much later in life came shoes, which I sadly ruin in succession and I'm pretty damn sure cider and drunken stumbles home are the culprit rather than tiny little elves scratching away at the ever so pretty patent, glitter and leather surfaces. (My latest love is clocks. I feel like they deserve a completely separate spangly blog all of their own.)

So this brings me back to owls. Owls are old school. They didn't break on me or fly away, I simply packed them up and sent them off to a new home - a dusty little corner of my parents house and you know what? I sort of feel bad, especially as they are the heart of many of my drawings recently so I got some down and put them on my windowsill. I think I might start telling people I like owls again.