Kids and grown-ups stopped to smile at my cartoons at Didsbury Festival 2026; and thankfully the rain stayed away

When I booked my stall at Didsbury Festival 2026, I knew I was taking a gamble. Not with the artwork but with the weather. After all, this is Manchester.

The forecast had confidently predicted rain. The sort of rain that makes artists stare nervously at clouds while calculating how many hours of work might dissolve into colourful puddles. As someone exhibiting original ink, watercolour and pencil artworks, I spent the days leading up to the festival imagining my paintings and cartoons literally weeping in the rain.

Fortunately, Manchester decided to perform one of its favourite tricks. It threatened rain all day. And then didn't. Not until closing time.

For that small meteorological miracle, I remain deeply grateful. Because what unfolded throughout the day at Didsbury Park was one of the most rewarding experiences I've had as an artist.

Didsbury Festival 2026 - one of Manchester's most-loved community events

Now in its 43rd year, the Didsbury Festival continues to be one of South Manchester's most cherished community events.

Organised by the Didsbury Community Association and supported by local volunteers, the festival brings together residents, families, artists, performers, charities and local businesses in a celebration of creativity and community spirit.

The atmosphere throughout the day was warm, welcoming and wonderfully diverse. Children ran between stalls. Dogs made new friends. Musicians entertained crowds. Local businesses showcased their work. And artists like me hoped people might stop long enough to connect with what we'd created.

Why I chose to exhibit at Didsbury Festival

Like many independent artists, exhibiting isn't just about selling artwork. It's about conversations. It's about seeing people's reactions. It's about understanding what resonates with them. Of course, I also hoped to recover the costs of booking the stall, printing artwork and preparing displays. But what I gained was something much more valuable.

Connecting with hundreds of people who stopped by throughout the day. Some smiled immediately. Some laughed. Some stood quietly reading every caption. Others returned later with friends and family saying, "You've got to see these cartoons." As an artist, those moments are priceless.

The cartoon that captured Manchester perfectly

Without question, one piece attracted more attention than any other. My Manchester weather cartoon. The cartoon pokes gentle fun at the city's famously unpredictable climate, depicting the reality many Mancunians know only too well i.e. sunshine, rain, wind, and maybe even snow. And then sunshine again. All within the same day. Ironically, that cartoon felt especially relevant during the festival itself.

Throughout the day people glanced nervously at dark clouds gathering overhead. A few drops threatened, then disappeared. Minutes later the sun returned. Manchester was effectively acting out the cartoon in real time.

Visitors instantly recognised the joke because they'd lived it. One woman laughed and said, "That's basically today's weather forecast and yesterday's and probably tomorrow's too."

Humour works best when it reflects shared experience. And nowhere is shared experience more universal than discussing Manchester weather.

When children read every line

One of the biggest surprises of the day was how deeply children engaged with the cartoons. In a world often dominated by scrolling screens and shrinking attention spans, I wasn't expecting young visitors to spend so much time reading my cartoons. But they did. Many carefully read every caption, every speech bubble, every punchline. Some laughed immediately whilst others paused and thought before smiling.

Several children pointed out details to their parents that adults had missed. That reminded me of something important. Humour isn't simply entertainment. It's a form of curiosity. A good cartoon encourages people to slow down, observe and think. Children naturally understand that. Perhaps better than adults sometimes.

"Your cartoons are too deep"

One conversation particularly stayed with me. A visitor spent a considerable amount of time looking through several cartoons before turning to me and saying: "Your cartoons are too deep and made me think without being harsh or controversial, a subtle ode to the world we live in."

I smiled when she said "too deep." As cartoonists, we're often told humour should be quick and disposable. But I've always believed cartoons can do more. They can gently challenge assumptions and encourage reflection.

Whether I'm drawing about climate change, technology, consumer culture, politics, food waste or everyday human behaviour, my goal is rarely to tell people what to think. It's simply to invite them to think. If someone laughs and then pauses for a moment afterwards, that's often where the real cartoon begins.

Art that starts conversations

Throughout the day, visitors discussed everything from mobile phone addiction and social media habits to environmental concerns and modern relationships. Many of my cartoons use humour as a doorway into larger conversations. Not because I want to lecture people. It’s quite the opposite. Humour lowers defences. It allows people to engage with difficult subjects in a more accessible way.

A cartoon can sometimes communicate in a single image what a thousand-word article struggles to explain. Perhaps that's why I fell in love with cartooning in the first place.

Why local art festivals matter

Events like Didsbury Festival are vital for artists. They create opportunities for direct engagement between creators and communities. In galleries, people often feel they need specialist knowledge to appreciate art. At local festivals, that barrier disappears as people respond honestly.

Sunny ending

As the day drew to a close, the clouds finally delivered what they'd been threatening for hours. Rain. Thankfully, by then my artworks were packed away safely. The watercolours survived, the ink drawings escaped unharmed. And my cartoons avoided becoming accidental abstract art.

My cartoons managed to make a few people smile, laugh or see the world a little differently. It was a successful day indeed. :)