These students, in October.
Alt Text: Covert sketches of two students talking at the next table, in pencil.
These students, in October.
Alt Text: Covert sketches of two students talking at the next table, in pencil.
Posted by John Finnemore at 7:36 pm 1 comments
These camels, in February.
Posted by John Finnemore at 11:57 pm 2 comments
This woman, in October.
(Apologies for springing the nudity on you, if you dislike it, but it feels fairly mild.)
Alt Text: A fairly finished drawing (by my standards) in black, brown and white Conté sticks, of a nude model from my life drawing class, with a seemngly tranquil expression. But perhaps she just has resting restful face.
Posted by John Finnemore at 9:56 pm 3 comments
These gulls, in August
Alt Text: Thumbnail sketches in red crayon of some juvenile gulls on the beach. |
Posted by John Finnemore at 11:14 pm 2 comments
This child, in December
A very rough ballpoint-on-diary-page sketch of a small boy looking excited about something. But perhaps he just has resting excited face. |
Posted by John Finnemore at 9:46 pm 3 comments
This woman, in March.
Alt text: rough ballpoint sketch of a woman in a big coat looking seemingly dejected, but who probably just has resting dejected face. |
Posted by John Finnemore at 11:22 pm 10 comments
Now that I'm doing Substack properly it seems a little odd - somehow disloyal - to essentially be blogging regularly again after all this time, but not to be doing it here. So I'm going to do a bit of cross-pollination. I'm including some old blog posts from here on my Substack (though not more than one per edition), and some new stuff from Substack on here. Not sure quite why, but let's try it and see how it goes.
Here's something suitably Hallowe'en-y from this week's:
My car, yesterday. |
Posted by John Finnemore at 4:34 pm 6 comments
Labels: Fierce Creatures
It would be a shame to let this ancient, creaky, spam-riddled throwback of a blog die off completely just because I'm experimenting with Substack.
That said, I AM experimenting with Substack, and I'll be sending one out tomorrow. Subscribe here should you care to receive it:
But in the meantime, in the above spirit of keeping the old place alive, here is a little preview, in the shape of some performance indications I enjoyed from piano scores by Eric Satie.
Eric Satie being dry as a cuckoo. |
Posted by John Finnemore at 5:55 pm 26 comments
Alt text: A trailer, made by the excellent people at Stage Fright Films, which eventually tells you it's called 'The Researcher's First Murder', and revealing the excellent cover illustration by Tom Gauld.
You can pre-order it here, and I won't at all mind if you do.
Posted by John Finnemore at 12:59 pm 37 comments
1) Order the fish in a restaurant on a Monday. It'll be three days old.
2) Base-jumping. He just doesn't see the appeal.
3) Cheat on his wife. Sandra is his world.
4) Open a new battlefront without adequately securing supply lines first. This one probably won't come up. But still, he'd never do it. Look at Napoleon.
5) That. He'll do anything for love. But.
Edit: For some reason, a lot of people seem to be complaining that none of these have anything to do with dishwashers. Why should they? Our dishwasher expert knows a lot about dishwashers, sure, but they're not his whole life. Get some perspective, people.
Posted by John Finnemore at 2:51 pm 16 comments
Labels: Small Silly Jokes
Posted by John Finnemore at 11:59 pm 12 comments
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The Victorian novelist Anthony Trollope, on a tour of the United States, passed through Utah, and decided to drop in on Brigham Young. It did not go well. From Trollope's autobiography:
"I did not achieve great intimacy with the great polygamist of Salt Lake City. [...] He received me in his doorway, not asking me to enter, and inquired whether I was not a miner. When I told him that I was not a miner, he asked me whether I earned my bread. I told him I did. "I guess you're a miner," said he. I again assured him I was not. "Then how do you earn your bread?" I told him I did so by writing books. "I'm sure you're a miner," said he. Then he turned upon his heel, went back into the house, and closed the door."
Alt text: Anthony Trollope. Looking, as usual, exactly like a miner. |
Posted by John Finnemore at 3:09 pm 7 comments
- Scarper; British slang for 'run away'. From Scapa Flow - Go.
- Grass; as in informant. From Grasshopper - copper (and from there to copper's nark)
- Dukes; slang for fists, as in 'duking it out'. From Duke of York - Fork. ('Forks' being now-forgotten slang for hands.)
- Donkey's years; a long time. From Donkey's Ears, rhyming slang for Years... but then the Y crept back in.
Posted by John Finnemore at 2:13 pm 12 comments
I briefly interrupt this parade of elephants and bears (not usually a wise thing to do) to bring you news of a new project of mine.
It's a murder mystery. But really, it's a set of very difficult, interconnected puzzles. But really... it's a box of one hundred picture postcards. I mean, if that's all you need to hear, by all means go straight here to buy it. But for a little more explanation, read on.
In 2020, I spent some of my lockdown trying to solve the newly republished murder mystery / puzzle Cain's Jawbone, written by the famous cryptic crossword setter Torquemada in 1934. The puzzle consisted of a box of one hundred pages of a novel, in a random order. The solver had to work out the correct order of the pages, and then interpret the strange and allusive narrative so as to deduce the killers and victims in the six murders in the story. It turned out to be ridiculously difficult, as it was meant to be; but if the spring of 2020 was good for anything, it was for spending far too long on almost impossible puzzles. Eventually, I submitted a solution, which to my enormous surprise turned out not only to be right, but also the only correct one submitted. I won a thousand pounds, bought a piano, and thought that was that.
But then, two things happened. The first was, thanks in part to TikTok, Cain's Jawbone took off in a surprisingly big way. And the second was, I found I missed it. I really wanted to try solving another puzzle in that style. But Torquemada never wrote another one, and nor did anyone else. So it seemed the only thing to do was to try to create one myself.
So this year Unbound, the publishers of Cain's Jawbone, are publishing a new mystery puzzle box by me, the title of which is still secret for now. This time, solvers will receive a box of one hundred picture postcards. As with Cain's Jawbone, they will need to arrange the text sides in the correct order, and understand the story told there, in order to identify the killer and victim in a series of ten murders; as well as a certain crucial address. But in order to do this, they will also need to solve the various puzzles presented by the picture sides.
The picture side puzzles allow me to do two things: firstly, compensate for the arrival of the internet since 1934. You may now be able to google an obscure Walt Whitman quotation, but you can't google 'How on earth is this picture of a tree a puzzle?' Secondly, if Cain's Jawbone had a flaw (which I don't admit) it's that it's a little off-putting and seemingly impenetrable until you make a certain breakthrough. I think a lot of people had a brief look through the cards, thought 'Well, that's impossible' and gave up. I certainly did, before lockdown came along and invited me to have another go. So the picture puzzles - which are also, to be clear, ridiculously difficult - give the solver something they can immediately get their teeth into, while they're grappling with the madness on the other side.
Lastly, they're there because they have to be. There is, within the story, a reason why these cards exist, why they have puzzles embedded in them... and why one of the murderers now keeps them safely locked in a drawer. I hope you enjoy trying to work out what it is.
For more information, to pre-order a copy, and to gaze in wonder at some exhilaratingly expensive pencils... step this way.
Oh, and the postcards shown here are not solvable with the information given, so don't torture yourself. Yet.
Posted by John Finnemore at 4:32 pm 40 comments
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Posted by John Finnemore at 11:48 pm 22 comments
First, an apology. It has been brought to my attention that I have been irritatingly coy about the identity of my patron for this series of pieces, and the precise nature of my relationship with him. This is of course information you have every right to know, for reasons too obvious to explain; and which you could not possibly in a million years have guessed. No-one’s that clever-clever.
So let me now be perfectly straightforward with you: my patron is His Serene Grace Archduke Gustavus Von und zu Schellenhuber, Prince-Elector of Westphalia. I recently had the honour to be appointed his Court Artist (Ursine and Elephantine works only).
Here is the latest piece I have completed for His Grace. I believe he intends it as a fresco for his refectory.
Posted by John Finnemore at 11:56 pm 15 comments
Labels: Elephants, The Unbelievable Truth
Posted by John Finnemore at 5:52 pm 13 comments