A futile experiment. And a funeral.

I travelled to Bradford and back yesterday for my Uncle Bob’s funeral. It was only three months after the funeral of his wife, my Auntie Alice. They became each other’s first sweetheart shortly after the end of WWII and married in 1947. After sixty-four devoted years of marriage, it was as though one of them could no longer exist (or saw little point) without the other. They were an extremely sweet couple without a malicious bone between them.

Just to confuse the emotions further, it was my son Sam’s 22nd birthday. Cycle of life ‘n’ all that.

Anyway, the return trip north entailed several hours on the train so I decided to set myself a little drawing challenge. The idea was to make a number of rapid thumbnail sketches of whatever happened to be hurtling past the window as I looked up, thus building a sort of narrative montage of the journey. It was a pretty unmitigated failure, to be honest. I made the not-very-surprising discovery that a four-second drawing made on a bouncing train is never likely to amount to much and the exercise was abandoned after Grantham. Just call me a quitter.

Reverted to the iPad on the journey home, and had another play around with the fab Ink Pad app. I won’t pretend the shaking train exactly enhanced this process either, but at least it was possible to go back and edit / undo any wayward vectors. The image, other than being intended to look vaguely retro, is completely meaningless.

You’re never alone with an iPad.


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