Follow the Yellow

rob bailey @ rogue studios

The most excellent Rob Bailey had a special “for one night only” exhibition at Rogue Artists Studios & Project Space on Friday night to show work created during 10 weeks at Rogue as their first artist-in-residence.

The new works developed during the residency make good use of Rogue’s project space, with unexpected things to see everywhere, from a delicate paper butterfly casting a pink shadow on a white wall, to a rainbow of coloured beetles parading along the windowsill and an orange bird peeping in from the ceiling. Rob’s time at Rogue has clearly provided him with a valuable opportunity to develop his practice and experiment with new approaches, extending his illustrative work to explore 3D sculptural forms. However the new work remains very much the product of his own very distinctive visual aesthetic, influenced by 1950s design and animation, his characteristic use of colour and the keen sense of playfulness which is always evident in his work.

The new work also marks a logical development from the wonderful Hello World exhibition earlier this year, in which Rob transformed Common bar into a fantasy rainbow-coloured encyclopedia-come-to-life, featuring dinosaur bones, a giant piano keyboard and a cross-section of the earth to name but a few highlights. I couldn’t resist the temptation to post a couple of my favourite images below…


Look out for more exciting things to come from Mr Bailey – future projects include co-producing a short film commissioned by North West Vision and a group exhibition at Cornerhouse later this year exploring drawing and animation.

les vacances

As promised here are some pictures of my holiday.

I suppose there’s probably something very boring, and perhaps even rather egotistical about posting one’s holiday photos on one’s blog, somewhat “ooh, look at me and my fascinating life”.

My holiday photos are sadly, not very fascinating, but I make no apologies. I was hoping to use my time away to write stories and other wonderful and interesting things which I could have posted here; however somehow I didn’t quite get round to it (possibly because I spent so much of my time eating and sleeping instead) so you’ll just have to put up with photographs.

Actually, I’m quite proud that I managed to take any at all given it rained for most of the holiday. The sky is even blue in some of them.

Excellent wellington boots. Essential for walks in soggy French woods.

Mmmmm, tasty vegetables – a present from our friendly neighbours from their garden.

Dinner – a very important part of the holiday. This is a picture of some boeuf bourginonne which was extremely nice. It is a slightly blurry picture, but possibly I had already had a glass of wine at this point.

Spooky ruined tower – la tour du rochefoucauld.

Flowers from the garden.

back home

I’m back home now.

I had a lovely holiday. It rained every day, but that was very good practice for coming back home to Manchester. Later I will post some photographs which I took in spite of the fact that it was raining, and maybe even write something about what I did.

Today I am back and I have been to work, also in the rain. My kitchen ceiling is leaking.

In other news, I seemingly now have a surname! How novel.

Also, this blog has been mentioned here on the Manchizzle. I suppose this means I am now a proper, official, grown-up blogger. Greetings to anyone wandering here from the Manchizzle. Thanks so much for visiting, especially given the many other fine new blogs there are out there to tempt you (even a blog written by a cat !) and I hope you’ll come again soon.

not here

I am not here. I will be taking a screen break for about a week.

I am on my happy holidays in France.

I may well be eating a croissant at this very moment.

I will be back soon…

there is a wardrobe in next door’s back yard

There is a wardrobe in next door’s back yard.

It is lying on its back, crooked, splayed diagonally, like someone who has fallen down drunk.

It’s a sad sort of wardrobe. The white plastic coating is peeling off revealing the drab wood beneath. The door has fallen off and is now propped against a neglected shrub in a pot, revealing a shabby underbelly and a narrow mirror speckled with raindrops.

From here, I can see right inside the wardrobe and its meagre inner cavity. There is nothing inside it. It is just a very small, narrow wardrobe with no door. It is not going to take anyone to Narnia. It’s just lying there, looking helpless, beside some damp, flattened cardboard boxes that are slowly disintegrating.

I keep expecting my neighbour will move it but every time I look out of the window, it is still there.