Party Time

The last of 12 main pictures (just right for carnival, isn’t it?).  Actually it’s  no. 11. The real last picture  is  the one with sleeping babies, but this scene was ready long ago. I have spent most of this month drawing babies. I have no patience to count them all, but there must be about 80 pink babies in the book. More will come  (book cover, title page, and perhaps additional pages for coloring)  but I don’t want to think about it now.  My plan for tomorrow is to go out and dig the garden. I love this job, but the number of babies is overhelming.

 

Pillow Fight

Big pillow fight, page no. 9. One more left!

Princess In The Tower

pencils

Sunday evening doodle 🙂

Rain and Snow

Pink rainbow babies in difficult weather conditions.

Big Hug

Rainbow babies shine when they hug to each other, so says the poem. In the nearest future there will be babies with flashlights and babies with umbrellas. In my book everything goes wrong, evil lord Frey betrayed the young king. Too bad. But baby pictures go well, and weather is beautiful. Real spring.

Big Rainbow

“Team up, little rainbows!” I’ve managed to finish two spreads in one day and I’m proud of it.  20 minutes per baby.

Mr. Cloud

Mr. Cloud is getting grumpy on this page.  One picture finished in the morning, other one (hopefully) in the evening, and now it’s time to go out and forget pink babies for a few hours.

5 Babies, 1 Unicorn

Babies keep flying around like crazy. Unicorn is just meant to be there; it’s not mentioned in the poem, but the author likes unicorns and she wanted to have one. Why, as good reason as any!

Fievel

This is a picture for DA friend, Rosey-Mae. This is called “art trade” she asked me to draw something for her and she will draw something I’ve chosen, in her style. The boy’s name is Fievel. He’s a character from a cartoon she is drawing. I’m not quite sure if she’s creating it herself or with a group of other young artists, but I know Fievel is an orphan trying to survive in a post-war world, ruled by army forces. My apocalyptic world is made of childhood memories.  This is one of many little streets joining the main street of Zasanie quarter (where my parents used to  live) and the river bank. Of course the street wasn’t ruined.

Ink and Derwent pencils