I'm pretty sure all these are 'finished' now, though I can never be totally sure there won't be more last minute tinkering! Working on three more so will post pictures of them as they develop.

I haven't posted on here in a loooong time, life kind of gets in the way and things can get complicated. But I am dusting myself off and getting on with it, I have a small art studio in Cromford and am beginning to make some larger paintings again. Here are a few that are works in progress, none of these are finished just yet, but are all pretty close:

I'll try post more as an when they are finished, but they are quite slow to produce being so labour intensive and they seem to be increasing in size and detail! I should have been an abstract expressionist, you can knock 40 of those fuckers out in a lunch break!

how not to play a Kramer 450 g

I couldn't afford to buy a Travis Bean, or an Electrical Guitar Company guitar, but (at the time) I could afford to buy a Kramer 450g (after a year long search on Ebay). This video is how not to play said guitar....sorry to anyone who either has ears, or owns and plays guitar well, I just like dissonance!

a page from an old sketchbook

www.sketchbookproject.com/users/jonprocter

burn a thousand bridges

grind it down to dust

let the flowers bloom

grow out and over 

a garden city

a bloom as red as rust

I opened my hands

and from them flew a bird

it soared to the heavens

never to return

A sketchy drawing from yesterday, first one in quite awhile. Isn't my best but is a start to getting back into drawing again.

Well I did do a drawing today but can't decided whether or not it is awful! I guess I haven't seriously drawn anything in a year at least so like anything if you don't keep it up your skill goes. I'll look at it tomorrow and decide after a sleep whether to post it up here or, burn it and start over. In the meantime here are two old pictures. One is a detail from a painting called 'the fall' the other is a page from a sketchbook done for the sketchbook project NY.

Go to: http://www.sketchbookproject.com/users/jonprocter/artwork to see more stuff I did for the sketchbook project.

improvisation through practice amp without any effects apart from some fire

orange coloured concrete over rain soaked streets

cracked tiled steps under aching feet

broken building walls and forest canopies

can you explain how all this came to be

unnatural urban jungle of grey cold stone

overbearing neon alienating everyone

this grey cold stone

grey cold stone

burying everyone

we

 are 

 the 

 foundation

of 

a

ruined

tomorrow

breaking practice amp+bad guitarist+monkey wearing glasses=bad freakout monkey music

I'm planning on doing a drawing today, don't know exactly what it will be yet but think I will go with a music themed piece. ATP was pretty amazing and inspiring, really great to see some excellent live music.

Highlights for me would be seeing LOW for the first time, they were just incredible, delicate at times and then growing to all out fuzz distortion apocalyptic destruction. Lee Ranaldo and the Dust were also really great, I saw them awhile back at the Brudenell in Leeds they killed it there and really killed it at ATP too. They are crazy tight and the songs Lee is writing post sonic youth are really amazing and heart felt.

Chelsea Light Moving were great too, it is interesting to see what each member of sonic youth is doing now. While Lee Ranaldo has gone down almost a classic rock band sound with occasional noise freakout thrown in for good messure, Thurston has seemingly traveled back in time to no-wave New York and is creating songs made from scraping all the sonic memories caught in the walls of CBGB's. The results of both bands are, in my mind, amazing and soften the blow of never seeing sonic youth again. CLM makes me want to go out and buy a fuzz and octave distortion and bring the house down around me through sonic warfare. (Groovy and Linda being a definite inspiration there ''DON'T SHOOT!! WE ARE YOUR CHILDREN!! DON'T SHOOT!!'') The dust make me want to actually learn to play guitar...ha.

Anyway before this blog becomes some pretentious naval gazing music review blog (as if anyone reads it or gives a shit and as opposed to it being a pretentious naval gazing doodle blog no one actually looks at or reads) I'll just say that other band highlights were: PORN, mum, magik markers, the haxan cloak and seeing mr Har Mar superstar selling massages in the merch shop and people actually fucking buying them.

Anyway here are some older pictures I did a while back for an exhibition in Helmsley, I'm going to dust them off and take them to a Vintage  Pop Up shop in Birmingham and hopefully somebody will like them enough to buy them.

Well, It's been a long time since I last made a post on here. It's been a bit of a crappy year and I've not really been drawing too much. I'm hoping to get a lovely digital camera for Christmas which will help me document and upload some of my bigger paintings. So I will be putting some of them up and hopefully getting my painting mojo back and doing some large scale canvas paintings again. (I've started one so far and another 3 are halfway done)

In the meantime I may dust of the old brush pen and do a picture tomorrow and upload it, wonders will never cease.

I've just got back from 3 days of alcohol intoxication at All Tomorrows Parties festival and feel mentally and physically drained but very happy. Saw lots of great bands and got to be with some old friends. While drunk and lying on the floor I wrote a bad poem on my mobile:

We are building houses of venom,
my hands are cut,
but they spill no blood.

I coil them gently around your neck,
and
squeeze.

Above is the zenith,
not far above.

We can accomplish any goal,
kill ourselves,
quick or slow.

Preprogrammed virtual destinations,
to travel without moving,
and arrive screaming,

Covered in guilt.

         Soaked in blood.

Just follow the yellow line and go,
everywhere,
nowhere.

These are our forests,
turned to wood.

When all the horizons point to zero,
a no real destination.

All beginnings just mark an end,
you,
   
      have,

              arrived.

old sketchbook

About a year ago I did this sketchbook as part of the sketchbook project NY. Seeing as i haven't had too much time to post any zombie pics, enjoy this post apocalyptic tale instead. The story is in the right order but the covers and inside covers are at the end. Enjoy!?...

There are also some older sketchbooks from previous years here: http://www.sketchbookproject.com/users/jonprocter/artwork

Should you be lucky enough to live in NY city you can actually visit the art house co-op library and see my books along with many many other peoples too. I have 3 books there altogether. 

The address of the Brooklyn art library is: 103 A North 3rd st, Brooklyn, NY, 11249. They are open 12-8pm everyday. My book numbers are #50500, #S53745 and #S70630. I have never been but I think if you have my name and numbers you can find my sketchbooks as they are all bar coded and what not.

More movie night posters for Dead meet York.

My friend Greg 'pickles' Parsons has been keeping me busy again with more poster designs for his movie nights in York. Here are two drawings for Braindead and Nosferatu. Lord knows when I am going to start drawing zombie girls again. I am planning on starting some large scale paintings again, seeing as the weather is nice and I can paint in the yard! ( I am too poor to afford a studio) When i get them done I will post some on here. Yup, maybe i can squeeze a zombie picture out of my breainbox soon too....

poster n what not

My friend Greg from York U.K is putting on some more movie nights at the Duchess this month and also in August. The blob is in August and The Thing will be shown in July. It's a great night with competitions and free popcorn so support this great event if you live locally and get down and see some awesome films! Here are the posters for the events with some doodles done by me.

Also here are the original pictures I doodled. I tried a bit of photoshop colouring in with the blob one. It's a bit hashed as i don't have a mouse, or a good computer...or a good version of photoshop! But i am making excuses.

Finally here is a t-shirt design for the very same Greg's band. I basically had to look at research pictures of people who have committed suicide with shotguns...which was nice. Should be on a t-shirt and available at all good R.S.J gigs soon!

Finally I have been a bit crap at putting more stories and drawings up on here for awhile. It's a little disheartening to have zero feedback and lots of page views from robot hacking programs from Russia....I am going to get some more up on here when I have time. But I found a lost duckling recently and have adopted it! So have my hands full being a mother ducker! If anyone wants more stories let me know and I will get some doodles done.

Jon P

My good friend Greg recently asked me to doodle a picture for a movie night he is putting on in York UK from June. Here is the original drawing and the flyer he made, if you're in the York area drop down and watch some horror films and get some free pop corn!

More dead girls coming soon when i have chance to draw some more!

Ever since they were children Marie and Susan had wanted to be pilots. Most of their friends and parents just laughed at them playing in the garden with toy planes, they'd make comments that they would be better off playing at air hostess' and to get their heads out of the clouds. There was one person who encouraged them all the way and told them they could be anything they wanted to be, it was Susan's grandfather Charlie. He'd been a pilot in WW2 and come back to England a changed man. He'd also come back to a changed country, with women taking jobs in factories in the men's absence he found England to be a new and exciting country and he liked it. He thought there was nothing his granddaughter and her friend shouldn't be able to do if they really wanted to do it.

It was a hard slog through pilot training, but they both got there after lots of perseverance and putting up with endless sexual innuendo from their fellow fly boys. The only problem was there were no major airlines that would take them on, full pilots licence or not this was 1970's England and sexual equality was still a long way off. Susan's grandfather was old and frail by the time she got her full licence, but he still had enough fight in him to be absolutely livid when he found out about the unfair treatment Susan was having to put up with.  He knew she was twice the pilot of those toffee nosed sods and could fly circles around the bloody lot of them! So he came up with an idea, if no airline would take them on as full pilots then by god they should start their own airline. He'd worked hard all his life and invested wisely and was planning on giving Susan a large inheritance when he died. Instead of having to wait for him to kick the bucket he decided to give Susan her inheritance now, not in cash but in the form of a light aircraft! It was a only a small plane, a six seat cargo and haulage plane. Susan and Marie were over the moon when he took them to the airport and they opened the private hanger to reveal the plane. It was small and a little rusty but they loved it immediately.

Their first jobs together were mostly haulage, taking cargo and packages back and forth across the channel to Europe. Susan was the captain of the aircraft and boss of the company, Marie was a good pilot but could sometimes be a little nervous in heavy weather, so she was happy with her place as co-pilot. Susan knew that one day Marie would be able to Captain her own plane, she had the skills but just lacked the confidence. 

Over time their company went from strength to strength, they invested in more and more cargo planes and took on more staff. They were equal opportunity employers and took on men and women in all kinds of roles. It was not until the late eighties that they took the step of buying their first commercial passenger aircraft. They couldn't compete with the big companies so decided to try the other end of the market and go for high end air travel. Limited flights for an exclusive clientele with a small number of aircraft to business destinations. It really worked and slowly but surely they built up a reputation for excellent and punctual service.

Marie and Susan still flew a lot of the flights themselves, it was the flying that they really loved and they tried to keep doing it as much as possible between all the board meetings and business plans. It was one such flight from London to New York that their friendship was tested to breaking point and beyond.

Everything had been going quite smoothly, they'd taken off from London on time and were making good time to New York. It was a late night haul and the in Flight meal had been served to the passengers and crew and now most of the passengers were settling down to sleep. They were about two hours from New York when the head Stewardess came screaming over the intercom. It was so shrill it made Marie almost jump out of her seat. She was screaming something about a passenger gone crazy attacking everyone. She continued to yell and scream until their ear sets went dead. Marie turned to Susan, she looked pale and pretty shook up. Susan got up to look through the spy hole of the cabin door, she turned to Marie with a sick look on her face. She told Marie that it looked like a blood bath in there, she said she was going to go in and see if she could help get any staff and unhurt passengers to the rear of the plane and was going to try to restrain the violent passenger. Meanwhile she wanted Marie to get in touch with New York control tower and tell them what was going on and see if they could be diverted to a closer airport. But Marie just sat there stunned for a minute staring at Susan, she spoke in a slow monotone voice, almost as if she was in a dream. She told Susan that if anyone should go out there it should be her, it was much better that Susan stay in control of the aircraft and radio the tower. Before Susan could protest Marie had already got up and gone out the door into the blood drenched cabin. 

Half an hour passed without a single noise coming over the intercom. Susan was getting worried, she'd contacted the control tower and got them diverted to Boston airport. Emergency services were waiting for them to land, they wanted more information on how many people had been injured but from the cockpit Susan had no way of knowing what the hell was going on. She put the plane on autopilot and looked through the spy hole again, the cabin was smoky and it was hard to see anything at all, but suddenly a horrible figure loomed into view....

Susan jumped back in horror, she felt the blood drain from her body and felt faint. Again she moved her eye to the spy hole, this time the face was much much closer and much much clearer...

It was Marie's uniform but that couldn't be Marie, this thing didn't even look human. It moved in horrible jolting rhythms, it's limbs seemed to have a life of their own. Slashing and hammering around the cabin in random spasms this monster couldn't be Marie! Susan was transfixed, she watched in growing horror as the monster dragged itself towards a passenger who was lying unconscious on the floor, it straddled the passengers body and began to rip pieces of flesh from their face in huge chunks and eat them. Susan screamed out and hammered at the door, for a second she opened the cockpit door and moved towards the thing. But it raised its head with an awful snap and turned to look at her. Those eyes pierced through her, all yellow and glowing they shook Susan to the bone. It let out the most guttural wailing scream that pinned Susan to the spot with fear. The thing bolted for Susan, if the radio hadn't crackled into life snapping her out of her paralysing fear she would never of made it back into the cockpit in time.

The thing hammered at the door, kicking scratching and screaming all bloody murder on the other side. Susan thought there was no f**king way it would get through. Those doors are bullet proof, just as she took her seat back at the controls the door began to bend and dent. Susan knew it wouldn't hold until they got to Boston, she also knew she did not want to unleash that thing by landing anywhere near a populated space. She decided to do an emergency landing, she put a message out for whatever passengers and crew where left alive to brace and prepare for an emergency landing. She put the plane into a steep dive and began to bring it down into the frozen wastes of north America, she knew even if she survived this crash she'd still be in the middle of no where. She sent out a message to air traffic control of her current position and what the hell was going on. She knew they wouldn't believe her and this would probably be the end of her career.
She leveled the plane out and could see a frozen valley bathed in moonlight ahead, she just had time to think about how much this was going to hurt when the cockpit door smashed in.

The monster dove at Susan, she banked the plane sharply to the left throwing the monster of its feet and smashing it into the cockpit window, cabin pressure was lost, the wind lashed in and shards of icy rain cut at Susan's face. The plane rolled onto its side, she was loosing control. At that moment she remembered her Grandfather's face, he always believed in her no matter what, she grabbed the controls and pulled the aircraft level. The monster had been thrown to the back of the cockpit, it clawed its way towards Susan and was just about to sink its teeth into her neck when the plane smashed into the ground.

The plane sheared its way across the frozen ground, Susan could hear rocks ripping at the fuselage grinding and cutting through the metal. The aircraft seemed to scream out in pain as Susan put the engines into full reverse to try and slow them down as they barreled down the icy mountainside. The plane must have slid 200 meters when it snapped in half, the cockpit and part of the cabin spun away as the engines exploded in a shower of aviation fuel, the monster was being tossed all over the cockpit, but was still trying to grab at Susan, she was bracing in her seat now, there was nothing else she could do. The side of the cockpit smashed into a rock face and tore away, jolting the monster upwards and knocking it out of the cockpit, a few seconds later the front of the plane came to a sudden halt in a snow bank.

Susan woke up a few minutes later, her head was bleeding and her right arm was broken. She was shaken up but managed to pry herself out of the seat and onto the floor. The plane was a f**king right off, she thought the boys back at the hangar would never let her hear the end of this, then she thought of Marie and began to cry. That thing couldn't have been Marie she thought, there was no way it was her. Making a strap with her tie she tied her broken arm tight to her chest. The pain was excruciating but she managed to drag herself out of the wrecked plane and onto the snowy ground. She could see how far they had slid down the mountain, the burning wreckage lit up the whole valley, the flames licking up into the cold night sky towards the stars. Then she saw a dark figure move in front of the flames and she froze in terror.

It was Marie, she could see her ravaged uniform and her co-pilot stripes. The thing began to limp over towards Susan, dark blood pouring from its mouth, as it grew closer Susan noticed it was wading through a pool of aviation fuel on the ground, she fumbled through her pockets and pulled out a lighter her Grandfather had left her in his will, inscribed into its silver metal were a pair of angel wings. She flicked it open and lit it and threw it as hard as she could towards the monster. The aviation fuel went up in a flash, cremating her former friend and co-pilot in seconds. Susan flopped back into the cold snow, and passed out.