Project Report 2017

Calendar cover

Suddenly, it's late November and high time to be thinking about year's end activities, like making next year's calendar. As a recovering parent, the advent of Christmas brings with it a range of residual seasonal anxieties which need to be found a suitable home, like household gods, and I suspect that the preparation of cards and calendars is where they have taken up residence. After all, it's not as if anyone else's peace of mind depends on the annual receipt of a selection of my homespun imagery.

November 2018

In previous years I've generally used twelve pictures from a single project that had been commanding my attention during the year; Puck's Song, for example, was perfect for 2015/16, being my twelve illustrations for Kipling's twelve stanza poem. But in 2017 I've been suffering creative overload, and have had any number of things on the go simultaneously. I found I couldn't decide which of them to feature, or which had the strongest dozen images that would each reward a month of viewing (naively, perhaps, I have to assume calendar recipients actually hang the thing somewhere, in preference to Kute Katz Kalendah 2018*). I also had a practical problem with my increasing fondness for the "portrait" orientation, which doesn't really suit the calendar format. So I decided on a Project Report, something like a visual corporate annual report, which would bring together a little of everything in progress during 2017, naming the "project" each picture had been extracted from.

December 2018

Calendar recipients probably don't realise or care quite what an exclusive club they have inadvertently been enrolled into by me. I only make about fifteen or so and, as my family don't need reminding what a weird person I am, these generally go to an inner circle of friends and well-wishers, plus some People of Influence. In recent years I've largely given up on the latter, however, as this little annual reminder of my existence seems to have had zero effect, while the number of friends and well-wishers has, gratifyingly, increased. However, if you're stuck for a gift for someone, or fancy something rich and strange for yourself, I'd get one made and sent to you for £15.00 plus P&P**. All you need to do is drop me an email (my address is in the "Since you ask..." profile section at top right).

June 2018

* An old friend who runs a stained-glass workshop in the Dordogne assures me he always hangs it in the toilet, because of the opportunities for extended contemplation this affords.

** The calendars are made by Vistaprint, on 235g premium glossy paperstock, 28cm x 21cm, wire spiral bound.