I stared and stared at her until I had stared her into little pieces and I thought, you're big and scraggy like a carthorse and nobody can hunt for you in the grass and you couldn't hide anywhere because you can be seen the whole time and you can't surprise anybody and make them feel good! You have completely spoilt our games for no reason because you can't play games yourself! O alas and alack! No one wants your presents. He doesn't want them! You're nobody's surprise, and you can't understand because you're not an artist! And so I went a little closer and humiliated her by saying the most terrible thing of all : amateur! You're an amateur! You're not a real artist!
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
Grandfather was a clergyman and used to preach to the King. Once, before his children and his children's children and his children's children's children covered the face of the earth, Grandfather came to a long field which was surrounded by forests and hills so that it looked like Paradise. At one end it opened out into a bay for his descendants to bathe in.
Then Grandfather thought, here will I dwell and multiply, for verily this is the Land of Canaan.
Then Grandfather and Grandmother built a big two-storey house with a sloping roof and lots of rooms and steps and terraces and a huge veranda and placed plain wooden furniture everywhere inside and outside the house and when it was ready Grandfather began to plant things until the field became a Garden of Eden where he walked around in his big black beard. All he had to do was to point at a plant and it was blessed and grew until it groaned under its own weight.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
#23 Dizzie the Cat, my OG sonic fan-character - I Haven’t drawn anything in a long time because I feel like Ai has devalued artists and my stuff was never popular anyways. I don’t know what possessed me to draw this last night. But remember back in the day when people drew their own Sonic fan characters on deviant art? Well, I finally gave in and created my own.
The woman in the window is wearing a pink dress. Next to her is a brown stand with complimented with decor on each shelf. There’s some keys hanging on a hook on the wall with a basket below. The clock shows that’s it’s 7:00. She’s looking out the window, and there’s some trees with colorful leaves which means the season is Autumn. To me Autumn is the perfect season for romance.
**ENDANGERED SPECIES** This small bird the Golden Cheeked Warbler #goldencheekedwarbler #endangeredspecies also known as the #GoldFinchofTexas lives and breeds in Central Texas particularly somewhere around the Edwards Plateau, Lampasas Cut Plain and Central Mineral Region. The main reason of the threat and decrease of this small bird’s population is mainly because of ranching, agriculture and land development. At present, there is no known record of the number of Golden Cheeked Warblers remaining.
Inktober, day 2: "Wisp". Brush pens and posca markers on coloured A4. This is inspired by the wisps in Ultima rpgs that I used to play as a wee bairn. That’s where I learned the word "wisp". In fact, it’s pretty much the only association I still have. ;)
This was originally supposed to be a swamp landscape, but I got frustrated with the colors not blending, etc. I painted the whole canvas black and ended up with this
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?
