You Chew I Spew
When I started 'Mumoirs' and began posting illustrated anecdotes online, I had a couple of friends that said they'd like me to draw things that they remember. I thought this would be fun, and asked them to send me a short written paragraph about a story they'd like me to draw. When I did the exercise, I realised what a powerful thing it is to share in the telling of somebody else's story. To put myself in their shoes and do their stories justice - a big empathy promoter! It was for this reason I then wanted to find ways to collaborate through the medium of comics. See 'Lifelines', 'The Magic Quadrant', and 'Like an Orange'.
Go to my shop page to commission one of your memories to be made into a one-off, hand-drawn zine!
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Richard's memory: Richard's Vic-hair-ious Revenge
When I was 7, I apparently had little awareness (or choice) when it came to hairstyles.
Especially Linda Pickett who would regularly sneer 'helmet-head, helmet-head' at me in a sing-song fashion.
On one occasion I heard a kerfuffle and looked up to see Linda having a fight. Another girl had taken issue with having lack of access to the crayon box.
The girl managed to pull out quite a few of Linda's hairs in the tussel, and another girl picked them up. Not knowing what to do with them, she gave them back to the owner. Still red faced and tearful, Linda gently draped them back on her head with a sad resignation.
Having such a pronounced bowl-cut was a source of much amusement for many in my class at school.
I would pretend I couldn't hear her and just sit by myself drawing X-Wing fighters.
Mrs. Burridge (who resembled a genetic experiment involving Mrs. Poppins and an owl) swooped in and dragged the other girl away.
I didn't know what 'schadenfreude' meant, but I found the whole incident hilariously satisfying.
Sophie's memory: Miniature Gulf
When I was six, my mum, dad and all the neighbours were woken up by an
explosion down the street. I slept through it.
The explosion was Shelley-up-the-road's car. Shelley-up-the-road wore a lot of lipstick and very tight leopard-print dresses, she had her hair piled high on her head and used to survey the street from her upstairs window.
I was sad and proud, but mostly proud when my mum told all the neighbours, "She slept through it."
She had a very loud voice and her car exploded. Everyone said it was probably an insurance job. I didn't know what that meant but I sort of knew Shelley wouldn't be exploding any more cars.
Around this time I was also quite scared of the Gulf war, being almost inconsolable when glimpsing snippets of news reports.
My mum said that the Gulf war was very, very far away, and although it was sad, I would be safe.
But I knew we lived right next door to the Miniature Gulf course.
Tereza's memory: Flesh Labyrinth
I had my first swimming lessons when I was 6, in 1981. I had to say bye to my parents...
...and enter through endless corridors that lead me through all the preparation stages of going to the swimming pool...
There were the female changing rooms...
...full of naked women of all ages and sizes. I was traumatised by their fats, dimples, textures of skin, their breasts and bellies, huge bottoms, bruises...and I was scared I'd get lost in the rooms...
...not find the lockers, not find my way to the showers where all these women stood rinsing their used bodies.
Then finally I would emerge in the swimming pool area. It was noisy, I heard the sound of splashing, whistling, shouting and I was scared I wouldn't find the right group.
Everyone looked unfriendly and uncaring in their rubber caps.
Graham's memory: The Crossing
It was a big day out in London with my mum in 1982, and we were walking over a pedestrian crossing...
...when a Hell's Angel got right in our way.
My mum got really annoyed and gave the bike a shove as she went past.
The Hells Angel called her a 'fucking bitch'. He gargled for a bit and then spat a huge globule of green phlegm...
....onto the back of her best coat.
"Come on Gray," said my mum nervously, grabbing my hand. I was scared of the Hell's Angel but I was more scared of what my mum would do next.
