OKAT's Faves

I need to decide which one is going to be the final work as my first task for a lettering course i’m taking. Already hate them all - 3 sketches was too much

Scratchboard, 5x7”.

Holey Sandwich, part of an ongoing series of sandwich bag art since 2008

Original painting by YUKA

Ink drawing on canvas with acrylic background

Sky is not the limit anymore...

This is a pencil and charcoal drawing of my daughter Eva

Still reeling from that fire; totally unnecessary. Cover and inside illustration from my book, The Moth and the Sun.

Hustle and bustle outside one of Stoke Newington's finest cafes

watercolor on paper

A pink fox admiring what grows from the ground.

Full front/back cover and separates #sbpprocess #sbprocess #sketchbookproject #sketchbookproject2018 @brooklynartlibrary @thesketchbookproject #doodles #doodle #drawing #draws #draw #illustration #ink #sketchbook #sketchbooking

Trade show poster I just delivered finals on titled: The UnBooth. My kind of trade show booth.

A scene from Cirque du Soleil's Luzia.

'Inside galaxy' ...and spring in my sketchbook 2019. Coffee, inks. @ ANIA PAWLIK 2019

An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies. This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise. It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly. In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism. In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever. The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage. The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance. But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence. But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?

A rabbit wondering about what he sees around him.