Many years ago I was running a comic workshop with some young cherubs in Hove Museum (which, by the way is really hard to find! It wasn’t where it should have been. I expected it to be in the bustling city centre, but it was actually located in a quiet residential area. By the time I found it, they’d started without me, and most of the kids had already mastered layout and composition and were well on their way to tackling a three quarter head looking up! Fortunately I arrived just in time to hinder their progress and unusual prowess – obviously I had to justify my fee somehow, so I stripped it all back (pun not intended) and demonstrated how NOT to hold a pencil… for two hours. It’s important to get the foundational skills right first, kids!).
Wow, that was a pretty long parenthesis section (which is easier to write than say out loud).
So there I was, about twenty kids on different tables with a collection of museum stationary between them. But on one desk a small child sat alone. It was quite sad, because apparently this boy was allergic to rubbers (ERASERS I mean! Apologies if you’re West of the Atlantic, that could’ve sounded weird. “Waddaya mean, buddy? It DID sound weird!”). Anyway, this isn’t about the allergic child, that’s a story for another time. Don’t worry, it’s got a happy ending! Well, not for Mr & Mrs Staedtler it hasn’t*.
Er… Sorry, I’ve kinda’ run over my self-imposed limit of 250/300 words, in a vain desire to give some colour to a fairly banal tale. Let’s pick this up next week. (Talk about a cliffhanger, eh, readers? – Ed)
Now I’m going to have to scroll aaall the way back up to the top of the page and type ‘Part 1’ or something.
*Staedtler is a brand of rubbers (ERASERS I mean!).
