Michael Nobbs

Category: Ephemera

Found things, fragments, and small pieces of inspiration that accompany and inform my work.

  • A trace of Mary on her birthday

    Screenshot of an entry from Mary Gordon’s blog, Fat Black Cat Journal, showing a post titled “Lady of leisure,” dated 18 September 2022. At the top is a painting of a woman in a dark coat and hat standing beside a war memorial. Below, Mary writes about identifying with the woman in the painting and reflects on exhaustion, disappointment and trying to keep going.

    Today would have been Mary Gordon’s birthday. I’ve been particularly missing her of late, especially when I spoon coffee into my little stovetop espresso maker, a ritual we both enjoyed.

    A couple of weeks ago, I discovered that her blog, Fat Black Cat Journal, is still online, and I feel as though I’ve found a way to reconnect with her — with traces of her.

    It hasn’t always been easy to read. This entry, written a few days after her final birthday, feels particularly painful and, as has been the case numerous times in recent days when I’ve been encountering these traces of her online, I’ve wanted to reach back in time and give her a hug.

    Sometimes things happen and you realise that you have been putting one foot in front of another and trying to keep going. This has been happening for YEARS. Everything from prepandemic to now has been grim, foot infront of another with no relief. Just another fucking thing to deal with. My joi de vivre fucked off many years ago. I’m now in emergency mode all I want to do is slowly crochet the same piece of yarn over and over again and listen to some semi decent drama on the radio and work out a way of keeping warm. And I don’t want to talk to anyone either I cannot bear the thought of how my life has just been a series of disappointments, and failures, many of which were not my fault but I have to live with them all the same. Last night I could hardly bear it I watched an Italian film whose central character was a smug leftist filmmaker. A smug leftist film maker scuppered my film career many years ago. And I remembered the three months of my life when I woke up and cried every day.

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  • Traces of my MA

    I woke up from a dream about a friend from long ago, which sent me off (before I’d even made my tea!) in search of traces of my MA from almost 20 years ago. I found an old Flickr account that, amazingly, is still active — and for which I still have the login details.

    Inside was an album of photographs taken by another friend, now dead, of my final show. There was more drawing there than I remember.

    View the full Flickr album.

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  • Finding out that Mary Gordon had died

    A screenshot of an email message displayed on a laptop screen. The message was sent via the Go Gently website contact form and appears in a plain black-on-white layout. The sender’s name, email address, and phone number are partially visible but have been redacted with blurred or blanked areas. The subject line references Mary by name. The body of the message explains that Mary had died in a hospice in Edinburgh a few days earlier, describes how sudden her illness had been, and expresses sadness and disbelief. At the top of the screen are standard email interface icons, including reply, forward, archive, and search. Below the message, a visible timestamp shows the date and time the message was received. The rest of the laptop screen is dimly visible around the email window.

    From March 2023, this screenshot shows the message sent via my Go Gently website, informing me that my dear friend Mary had died a few days earlier.

    See also: Moleskine Invoice and Drawing Mary (upside down).

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  • Moleskine Invoice

    A screenshot of a digital invoice dated 10 March 2023. The page lists two sketchbooks — a Moleskine Sketchbook and a Moleskine Pocket Sketchbook — with item codes, prices, VAT, and delivery details. The document layout is plain and administrative, with black text on a white background, order number and billing address at the top, and confirmation of next-day delivery at the bottom.

    On the face of it, this little piece of digital ephemera shouldn’t matter. It’s simply an order for two Moleskine sketchbooks made two and a half years ago. But it’s much more than that…

    Firstly, these two sketchbooks were the first I bought after returning to drawing following a ten-year break.

    Secondly, the date of the invoice shows that they were bought on the same day I heard that my friend Mary Gordon had died.

    Mary dying was the catalyst for my restarting to draw. I remember clearly that when I heard she’d died, I knew — suddenly and without doubt — that I needed to draw again. That I didn’t want to die without at least trying to get back to a drawing practice.

    What I didn’t remember was just how closely these two events — hearing of her death, and ordering sketchbooks — sat together. According to the invoice, they were not just related, but simultaneous. The sketchbooks were bought on the same day.

    That realisation has given this little digital record a much greater significance — it has become a timestamp that shows not just when I returned to drawing, but why.

    See also: Finding out that Mary had Died and Drawing Mary (upside down)

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  • Sometimes Things Just Can Work Out

    A close-up of an open Moleskine sketchbook showing a late-night drawing of an Oatly Barista Edition carton and an Energizer light bulb box on a green surface (the tea-tray). The handwritten text records a 4:30 a.m. moment when George found a replacement bulb just after one had blown. The drawing was made with a Blackwing 3 pencil and two Neocolor II crayons (black and light olive). The real objects — carton, bulb box, and Onion Soup mug — rest on the tea tray behind the sketchbook, all on a plaid blanket. The image conveys quiet domestic calm and the small satisfaction of things unexpectedly working out.

    Today’s Tea-Tray drawing, made at 4:30 a.m. when I couldn’t sleep.

    An Oatly Barista carton, an Energizer light bulb box, and my Onion Soup mug were all on the tea tray, though the mug didn’t find its way into the drawing.

    G. had just found the bulb while looking for something else, moments after one of the lights blew — a small thing, but it felt like a sign that maybe not everything has to be difficult. I was about to put the bulb box into the recycling and then decided I could draw it instead. A tiny decision, but one that changed today’s drawing from my more usual composition. (I’m going to put the bulb box into my physical Ephemera archive.)

    It was drawn with my Blackwing 3 pencil and two Neocolor II crayons (black and light olive). I felt very dopey and suspected I wasn’t equal to the task, but I’m glad I persevered — so that now this drawing exists as a tiny record of a quiet moment of domestic calm, and the small satisfaction of things unexpectedly working out.

    The full text reads:

    4:30 a.m.
    Very dopey drawing. G. found this bulb when looking for something else. Perfect as one of my bulbs had just blown (do low-energy bulbs blow?). Sometimes things can just work out.

    A closer view of the drawing in the sketchbook, showing the loose pencil and crayon lines depicting the Oatly carton and Energizer bulb box. The handwritten notes describe tiredness, coincidence, and the relief of a small thing going right. The textures of pencil and crayon are visible on the paper, revealing the dopey, half-awake energy of the 4:30 a.m. drawing.

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