Illustrator + Storyteller
Madeleine is a Brighton born artist, living in Vancouver. Her simple black and white line drawings are soaked in stories and heavy with emotions; pain, love, embarrassment, fragility and disappointment. Through her art she explores the deepest parts of what it is to be human in the most refreshing, relatable and humbling way.
I packed an overnight bag four times that week. I used it once. I think that’s good odds. He text me at 11.04pm on Tuesday, when he was leaving the Kings Head. He ask if I was still in Soho. I was still in Soho. I had been in Soho with friends since 7pm, and alone since 10.30pm. The same routine as the night before, without a text. I said I was ready to meet him whenever, left my full drink at the bar and ran to Oxford Circus. If I was late, he might leave. And, if he left, I would never see him again. It was a brief dying romance, this was my last shot at resuscitation. He didn’t smile when he saw me, maybe he was drunk. Or not drunk enough. I couldn’t tell nor did I really care. We commenced the underground journey. Oxford Circus to Bethnal Green. This was our journey. The same journey as the night we met, a few in between, and now this, the last I would do with him. I would think of him when I would catch that line, years later. He sat at the end of the bed, sweat on his back. He didn’t want to lie back down with me, I could tell. I asked him to pass my bag and I pulled out my toothbrush. He smirked, the idea of me being so predictably prepared was humorous. I wanted to cry. The next night I sat on my bedroom floor and wondered what top I should pack in case I needed a change of clothes for work the next day. I had a meeting, so it would have to be a smart one. I kept checking my phone. No text, but it wasn’t even 10pm yet. There was still time, he never usually texted before 11pm.
Thank you for your interest. For any inquiries, commission requests or collaborations, please contact Madeleine today.