Sunday, 30 November 2014

The magic waters of Durcal.

Almighty health giving powers and instant new hair apparently. That will teach me to go taking the mickey out of Andalucian cooking ;)

Hands up here. My own fault for being so gullible (drunk).

Friday, 28 November 2014


No photos. Sorry. Prehistoric PC and very slow ADSL. Another day.

Durcal is a village about 25KM from Granada. I love these little villages. No style. No chic. No bullshit. Just people making the most of what they have and enjoying it. Today is wet, windy and cold - "en tu's casa!". I have a plan for pudding.

Juan is doing something traditionally Andalucian. Everything in the pot at the same time to boil into a sludge. Easier to digest than it is to swallow.

I am doing pudding. Spain does cakes brilliantly. Other than that, pudding normally means flan.

You will need...

Some MaryJ. Don't waste your money on buds. Leaves and offcuts will do the job (something about the butter increases the THC uptake by a Million fold).

A pear for each person.
An egg for each person.
A little butter.
Egg yolks.

Fry your leaves in a little butter (in a frying pan). Simmer with a little milk. Add cinnamon.

In a pan, prepare the custard. Whisk the yolks with fine sugar. Simmer with some milk. DO NOT BOIL!

Fry the pears in a mix of butter and milk. Add a bit of salt, sugar and cinnamon as and when.

Pour the cannabis milk mixture into the custard pan. Make the custard (refer to the internet if you are not experienced).

When your pears have caramelised serve. Sleep well. Do not attempt anything other than sleep. Or, sex. Sex is good also. If you are lucky enough to share this experience with a beautiful woman wearing nothing more than a touch of Channel NÂș5 I am jealous. Enjoy.

Caramelised pears with marujana custard.

It is a variation on traditional English pudding. I have no oven, so all has to be prepared on hotplates. Pics will follow.

Nobody is going nowhere!!!

Saturday, 22 November 2014

An old favourite.

Paintings, or chocolates?

Steffi and the Prickly Pear (a long time ago).

"Hi Steffi. Hope all is good."

Friday, 21 November 2014

La Limonera Project.

I was recently introduced to a Limonera. I was also recently introduced to some chocolate.

La Limonera Project is a new project.


This is a game. It is called 'how to sell the World's most expensive chocolate'. Starts soon. Anyone can play.

Back to Ibiza.

Work please.
Tlf: 689 744 929

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

Smart phones and death.

Smart phones and death.

The fundamental affect smart phones are having on society. Somehow they have managed to turn the internet into something very insular and selfish. From a World of open information into a cosy little lie you choose yourself. Nice, but dangerous.

I spend the vast majority of my life on the street. I like it. My life is very simple - uncomplicated. I am a very happy and content person. Very little money, but priceless freedom. However, I am a bit preoccupied with ideas for making cash to take to America (cos' it is Merica and you need cash and stuff). Looking around me it seems there is still 'crisis'. Well, crisis for most, but the richest are 9% richer this year than last year. This means the rest of us are 9% poorer this year. The money hasn't vapourised - it is still there on paper at least. It is all going on smart phones, service fees, accessories and app's.

I have found a beautiful product. Amongst many other features it has 8GB of storage and the most fucking awesome sound you can imagine from a 4CM x 4CM x 4CM cube. Cute as, lovelly feel, perfect weight. Place it in the plam of your hand and you feel rich. After talking to the people who make them in China it seems I can buy each one for less than the cost of a packet of cigarettes. How do you sell an unbranded product like this online? The biggest selling factors are the sound and feel. How do you communicate intangibles like this on the net?

All the time I spend on the street I see many things. During the past few months I have witnessed exactly the same scenario Four times...

Young woman on moped (it has always been a young woman - this is not a sexist thing to say) approaching a pedestrian crossing, one hand on handlebar, one hand on smart phone Facebooking, or Twittering herself, or summat??? The roads are wet and greasy. The lights suddenly turn to red (from amber) and in a moment of panic she hits the front brake just as the tyre is making contact with the white bands of the pedestrian crossing on the road. Three times I have picked up the moped, stood it on the pavement, then returned to help the victim to her feet and brush her down. No more than cuts and grazes. A bit of bruising perhaps.

Exactly the same scenarion everytime. Last time I watched the moped skid along the road. It came to a halt against the guttering of the pavement still with the engine reving and humming. Picked it up. Turned the key to kill the engine. Put it on it's stand. Picked up the smart phone and walked towards the sprawled woman to help pick her up and dust her down. Oh shit! Deaded!!! Head so obviously dislocated from the rest of her body. Instant death at 10KPH. Shook me up a bit. I looked at her with that horrible feeling of shock, sadness and recognition of your own vulnerability and fragility. Life gone in a moment. Dead.

It matters nothing to her anymore. I considered the family and friends I do not know. The grief.

I went and bought a can of beer. Sat on a bench. Tasted the air and felt the sounds. Fuck the money. It will come when it has to - it always does. The people I see everyday make me smile. Make me happy. I tell them they are beautiful, because they are beautiful for making me feel very happy and lucky to be alive.

Life, death and smart phones and external speaker devices. I am bored with sketching street scenes. I want to sketch more naked women. Preferably living. Carelessness causes grief. People think I am irresponsible - I am not - I make it my job not to be responsible for anybody other than myself. If I kill myself with a smart phone I will only have myself to blame and nobody will miss me. Well, some might (hopefully). When I do eventually die (we all do eventually) I want to be fed to the fishes. You can think about me when eating your next kipper, or sardine, or other scavaging fish. It is the way I would like to be remembered. In the meantime, I am off to buy a can of beer and sit on a bench, and probably draw some more boring buildings. None of the girls I know here will get their kit off for me. I have a very fertile imagination mind. Sometimes dreams are better than reality - dreams rarely go wrong in a consequential way ;)

Monday, 10 November 2014

Sunday, 9 November 2014

An old painting for new ideas...

Just an example of what I like to do.

Granada for a bit longer.

I like it here even though it is very difficult to make money. Nice place. Good people.

Work please?

Tlf: 689 744 929

Ibiza in approximately Two weeks time from now.

"Who is The Lost Photographer?" people ask me.

The Lost Photographer is a scruffshyster, itinerant artist today. He used to work for big name companies in London, New York and Berlin (amongst other places), big name companies like GlaxoSmithKline, Unilever and others (they probably wouldn't like me telling people these days). He also worked alongside some of the World's most respected creatives and graphic designers on the 'periphery' of the advertising industry. He is a multiskilled talent! Any work will do. As I have said before; I can even clean toilets creatively.

Today I will be back to selling BIG sketches on the streets of Granada. Unless it rains again.