Blind Alley Cat

Model: Milicia @ EMG
Photography and Art Direction: Kaycie Smith
Styling: Annabel Wendt
Hair and Make-up: Desiree Wise @ Network Agency


Really digging MHQ's winter campaign shoot 'Blind Alley Cat'... loving all things rich velvet and deep maroon, and I'd probably take the cute patterned cardigan and cross shirt too.

Yep, this winter is going to be a questionable time for my credit card.

Clean line


I'm heading up the coast this afternoon--hopefully find some emus and urchins.

Or at least some sun...

TGI Friday, enjoy the weekend!

Tiny keyholes

This is a bit of 'in the mean-time' stuff... I'm waiting on some pens to arrive in the mail and, as usual, have drawings in process. And these are a bit different from my usual stuff because reading David Foster Wallace is making me think in giant, syrupy, existential loops. It's great.


The truth is you already know what it's like. You already know the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another and yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes.


But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you think...The truth is you've already heard this. That this is what it's like. That it's what makes room for the universes inside you, all the endless inbent fractals of connection and symphonies of different voices, the infinities you can never show another soul. And you think it makes you a fraud, the tiny fraction anyone else ever sees? Of course you're a fraud, of course what people see is never you. And of course you know this, and of course you try to manage what part they see if you know it's only a part. Who wouldn't? It's called free will, Sherlock. But at the same time it's why it feels so good to break down and cry in front of others, or to laugh, or speak in tongues, or chant in Bengali--it's not English anymore, it's not getting squeezed through any hole.
So cry all you want, I won't tell anybody.
--DFW, Oblivion: Stories

King Hoodlum

There were some really labour-intensive aspects to this drawing, and I had a couple of goes at editing it because I'm not really happy with it.

I can't find pens with good mojo at the moment, which is a serious problem. I got one good run with the most amazing pen I've ever found, only because the thing that made it amazing was that it was running out of ink...

But the internet is back, which is exciting.