Every year, when the first signs of Spring appear, I get restless – hearing the call of the wild.
Like a small animal getting out of its hole, sniffing around, checking what has changed.
This is an old drawing, with no date on it, but I bet it was done somewhere around April.
I drew this while waiting for the shop to be opened, so I can return two faux-fur vests I bought half jokingly last week. At some point we thought we might go on stage at the Pecha-Kucha night dressed as two bears. I still think it’s a good idea! We’ll see… :)
When the book is closed, it feels like I’m holding a heavy piece of my life in my hand.
You can see all the blog posts with drawings from this small Moleskine book – here.
Just got back from the Mercury Rev concert. It was so great…
On the first half of the show the band played songs from their old albums, and on the second half they played a soundtrack they improvised over three Flexus films that were playing on the screen behind them. I really loved it, but Oleg was a bit lost in the abstraction.
I did a quick cartoon on the spot :)
Not sure everyone felt this way, but I thought it was an intimate and special show.
I adore Jonathan Donahue’s voice.
One last song before going to sleep, Tides of the Moon (which reminds me: there was an amazing huge yellow moon over Tel-Aviv tonight).
Good night everyone…
◂ ◂ ◂ This song’s mood fits really well in here: The Mountain Goats – No Children ▸ ▸ ▸
Every time I see my parents I have to convince them that everything is OK.
But I don’t think they ever believe it.
The first song that comes to mind when I think of “rain” is this ↓ Can song, She Brings the Rain (although I think it’s more about spring showers than autumn drizzle).
Drawings from my little black book.
They’re meaningful and meaningless at the same time, I think…
Have a great great weekend everyone!
My name is Keren Taggar, an illustrator from Tel Aviv, Israel. This is sort of a sketchbook blog, a place for me to publish things I have nowhere else to show, and also a daily drawn diary.
