Blow me.

Just been working on a few head whistles. Here they are.

I've been doing a some mock up drawings over print-outs of these guys to see how I want to paint them.

These drawings, along with a poem I wrote to accompany them, were recently featured in a Zine produced for a show by Vancouver Artist (and my pertner in crime) Steve Hubert. The show opened Thursday October. 23rd at Sunset Terrace Gallery 2028 Clark st. Vancouver BC.

Here's the poem:

I can hear you

by: Meghann Hubert

I’ve never been very talkative. People think I’m shy. I’m friendly, I have things to say; but chit-chat can be tiresome. It’s like opening a can of worms. Some people just don’t know when to call it a day. Or, I know what happens; someone says something to me, I say something in return. . . silence.  Now what?  

I made a whistle. I wear it around my neck on a string. It’s loud.  As I walk around my neighborhood I notice things. Bad things. Good things. Regular things. I grasp my whistle and draw it to my lips.  A kind teenage girl compliments me on my cool pants (good). “TWEET!” I blow my whistle. She smiles. A little boy scoots past me on a bike with no pedals (regular). “TOOWEET!”.  He speeds away in excitement. A couple are sitting on a bench saying things like “fuck”, and “shit”.  They’re smoking marijuana (bad).  “TWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!”. I tell them all with my whistle.

A breath of life

Both of us revived

“I can hear you.”--Whistle.