Tuesday, January 29, 2008

do not adjust your set

and please fasten your seatbelts...we are currently experiencing some e-turbulence. Why the heck I'm incapable of uploading trimmed and perfect photos to exactly the spot on my blog where I want them to go, as opposed to where some insane logic-gate deep inside the Blogger interface has decreed they will go, I'll never know, but for what it's worth - I'm so sorry you have to endure my technical ineptitude. Yes, I know there are two versions of the same picture. And yes, I know it relates to something at the end of this post. God. I'm having a bad electrical goods day, okay? Pass the axe, Eugene. My brand-new and wondrous studio subwoofer's gone on the fritz, as have the household amp and cd player and all of this is making me think that last week's rolling power outages have killed a lot of our electrical equipment, despite things being plugged in via surge protectors. Is this part of a new future in which we slowly and agonizingly wean ourselves off all things electric? And if so, why couldn't it have been boring stuff like the vacuum cleaner and the iron rather than the sodding hi-fi? Urrrrgh. Or might it be that Mercury is in retrograde and that's what's wrong? Peace and love and pass the healing crystals, man.

Tomorrow, the vatman cometh, and due to the hi-fi pox or Mercury-induced vapour fits I won't be able to send deep sub-woofy vibrations up through the soles of his feet as he pores over my vat records. Muttering blackly to himself as he inputs stuff into his calculator and frowns. Meaningfully. What a fun job that must be. NOT.
And what a humourless bunch Customs and Excise are. What fun we shall both have tomorrow when he nit-picks through the last three years of numbers I have diligently crunched on the government's behalf and I sit nearby, on standby in case he wants to interrogate me as to why I thought that three bags of Smarties, a Chris Stout CD and a cajun chicken wrap were vat-able expenses. I have to be there while he disembowels my business. I imagine I'll not be concentrating properly on my wee black and white illustrations for Witch Baby. Not with The Suit Of Menace muttering in a corner of my studio. 
God. Why me, lord? Why two 'random'  investigations within three years? I don't know a single other author who's had to go through this and those fellow writers with whom I've raised the thorny question now appear to regard me as a contagious vatplague carrier. 
Popular, I ain't. 
Anyway. by way of light relief, here's last week's work - an illustration of one of Amnesty International's  Declaration of Human Rights. It's a children's book to be published in December to raise funds for Amnesty by selling the book and also by a charity auction of all the artwork from the book. My page was the declaration about being able to think what you like, say what you think and share those thoughts with other people. Which is a great idea if you can get away with it, but in my experience, is tantamount to career suicide in certain circles. My lips are sealed. Mmmmhmmm, wild horses, mffle pflffle.


Deirdra Doan said...

Hi Debi, I just read your most wonderful book "What Can I Give Him". The illustrations and your take on it was so beautiful. It was yours correct? Thank you I was so touched by it.

I am in the middle of doing the illustrations for my first author illustrated Christmas Children's book.

After that I have to sell it. I go to the SCBWI conferances and I took a course with Lee White in illustration. So there we go. I am looking forward to finishing it. I have a Dummy deadline for a critic in 3 weeks.

Thanks for showing your Dragons. Great work.

Very nice to meet you.

Debi Gliori said...

Hi Deirdra
Thankyou for your kind words about' What Can I Give Him'. It's such a beautiful poem, I've always loved it since I was wee.

Isn't it weird working on a Christmas book after the festival has finished? I began the illustrations for WCIGH the week after my last daughter was born ( May 1997), and I can tell you, my brain wasn't wired up properly, I was hideously sleep-deprived and every two hours, my daughter's nanny would ring my studio at the bottom of the garden and say - You'd better get back here because the baby needs fed...Again. It's a miracle I managed to finish the book at all.

Thankyou for visiting with me - sometimes I wonder if there's anyone out there in hyperspace at all.

Good luck with your book.The little picture beside your name looks lovely.