Archive | 23:19


11 Feb


I heard a new word yesterday. ‘Glamping’. It means upmarket camping. You know, for the sort of (rich) person who goes to a Festival without their own tent because they’ve booked a luxury Yurt with inflatable beds and hand-stitched Mongolian throws, embroidered floor cushions and artisanal hookahs with an ensuite chemical toilet.

Pansies! I’m a veteran of festivals and biker rallies since the 1970’s and I laugh in the face of horizontal rain, cold, hard ground and festival toilets! What sort of Wuss would want to go in for Glamping! Well, Husb probably would. We went to the Green Man Festival a couple of years ago. It was his first festival and probably his last. He did not take to tent life, communal toilets and roughing it at all. The only saving grace was the gourmet food. Back in the day, we were grateful for a beer tent and some skanky burgers. Husb feasted on rotisserie chicken, hand raised game pies, couscous and green chai.

I wanted to draw a crowd scene, but how to go about it? I didn’t want to draw loads of little ovals so I lay down to get a low perspective and started with the head of the man in front of me, working my way down some key groups of people and decided to leave the viewer to fill in the gaps down to the stage. Jarvis Cocker headlined on the Saturday night. He was brilliant.

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