air

Illustration using watercolour and pencils

New sketchbook time! Had to throw in a shark. No idea why, just did :)

The monochromatic weekly challenge inspired me to do an eye study. I've been having a bit of a composition block and thinking about starting to sell at art fairs, so my thoughts are preoccupied. I wanted to keep practicing tho. Lemme know what you think. I used pencils, smudges, and liquify in Rebelle 6. This is not AI nor is any part of this AI.

It's hot. No air in school, so we took to the shade and drew trees. I drew students drawing trees.

Pencil. Waiting for my daughter to complete her shopping at forever 12... I mean forever 21...

Current events mean retreating into my sketchbook is the way of things today, until it blows over(ish, emphasis on the -ish).

Finished fairy sketch

Sketch of a fairy.

Doodle cats featuring Cat Airbus.

I used to fish a fair amount, and when I did, I almost always used squid as bait. This was my submission for inktober's bait theme.

Lots of time to doodle while stuck in the airport

A cat is taking a nap on a red chair.

Pencil and parallel pen.

To draw is to notice. To notice is to pause. And sometimes, all it takes is a barefoot boy in a camping chair, chasing the drips of a popsicle, to remind us what it means to be here. This is Popsiclence—a sacred kind of focus. It’s where observational drawing leads us: out of the swirl, into the now. And in that now, we heal.

Years ago, I sketched Gibby at work—pencil in hand, bold strokes alive with motion. I caught them from over the shoulder: just the back of their head, the soft curve of their face, and that focused arm bringing something into being. They were 9 or 10 then, already showing the spark of creativity and concentration that pointed toward who they’d become. Now in their mid-20s, Gibby is thoughtful, insightful—quick to listen, slow to speak, and wired to process the world with care. Their path has been remarkable: two degrees in 2.5 years, no debt. That didn’t happen by accident. It took grit, German immersion schooling, 16 college credits earned in high school, and testing out of 24 more once at university. That’s Gibby—quietly determined, resourceful, and steady. But their story isn’t just academic. Gibby’s always been gifted with their hands—drawn to set design, locksmithing, welding. Trades they wanted to pursue early on, and still feel pulled toward. They’re at a bike shop now. It’s not the dream, but it fits: their hands know how to build, repair, and reshape the world. There’s been frustration—maybe even anger—that we didn’t let them follow the trade route right away. I get that now. Life veers, and sometimes the path chosen isn't the one imagined. But Gibby’s resilience—their ability to adapt and press on—is what I admire most. They’ve embraced their journey with honesty, stepping into their identity as a they/them person, unafraid to define success in their own terms. That takes courage. I’m proud of them—not for a résumé, but for who they are. This old drawing isn’t just a memory—it’s a thread connecting past to present. A reminder that the creative spark, the steady hands, the deep soul I saw back then is still shining. So here’s to you, Gibby: the kid who sketched with fire and the adult who still shapes the world with quiet brilliance. Your value has never been about the path you’re on. It’s about the person you are. And I’ll be here, cheering you on—every step of the way.

Lino cut print over pastel. The story goes: The bird fell in love with the whale the first time she saw him break through the ocean’s surface, sunlight dancing on his back. From high above, she sang to him, and deep below, he answered with a song as old as the tides. She longed to dive, to join him in the rolling blue. He wished to rise, to fly beside her in the endless sky. But air and water would not trade places. So each day, at dawn and dusk, they met at the edge of their worlds—she on the wind, he in the waves—singing a love song carried by the breeze and the tide, never together but never apart.

It’s a Billy Connolly inspired piece this time around…

Just some warm up doodles. Bic pen in my sketchbook!

The mall is busy. Kids are shopping. I am hiding in a chair, drawing a chair.

A scene from where I live.The origional photo for this is taken from within a huge wildlife reserve. I should do more plaine air work but the weather in Ireland is not that predictable.

Sometimes wisdom comes in a joke, and sometimes laughter carries truth. Brian spoke like a sage, Mike answered like a friend, and together they held the room. We draw to remember. Not only the lines of faces, but the presence of goodness, the gift of voices that echo long after the chairs are empty.

This quote from Voltaire rings true, no doubt about that! “Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.” - Voltaire.

Behold the Chair (inspired by Wendell Berry) Make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet. The chair does not strive. It does not speak loudly. It simply is— ready to receive, to hold what comes, to honor the silence. This drawing does not shout. It listens. It does not disturb the quiet— it joins it. Like a prayer whispered to the One who listens back, this mark is a presence, not a performance.

Actually this is an image that I draw and paint over and over. There is a sister, so there is a pair I will post. Thank you.

Pen & ink on Bristol