Elias Rosenshaw 11/29/2023 (Originally taken 11/23/2023)
Filtered photography bordered with gouache on paper.
(Note: In case there's any confusion, I have changed my name.)
Ink and marker on paper. A tribute to Foglianise a small town in southern Italy and its patron, Saint Rocco, the celebration is in the summer. www.graziamontalto.com
I am an art teacher with a master’s degree—trained by brilliant professors who believed that art could do more than decorate walls. I offer safe spaces for teenagers to grow—nourishing soil where their imaginations can take root.
And yet… I am assigned to hallway duty.
This is compulsory education, after all.
So I sit—posted like a sentinel—watching young lives stream past.
“Get to class,” I say with a smile and a nudge.
The system wants attendance; I’m hungry for presence.
Armed not with a whistle or clipboard, but with a pen—
my scribble’s soft insurgency.
The hallway stretches out like a geometric hymn.
Columns and corners chant structure.
Teenagers swirl past—half-formed galaxies of limbs and laughter—
their orbits chaotic, their gravity pulling time forward.
I begin to draw.
Not their tardiness, but their motion.
A shoulder. A blur of sneakers.
A tilted head chasing freedom.
Feet flickering like seconds.
Each mark a pulse.
Each smudge a breath.
My paper becomes a seismograph of seeing—
trembling gently through the mundane.
This isn’t about making art for a frame or a feed.
It’s about refusing to leak away in the fluorescent hum of obligation.
It’s a quiet mutiny against the clock.
I do this on long car rides, too (passenger side, mind you).
Letting the lines grow wild, jagged, and unapologetic.
Not for polish—
but for presence.
This is how I remember I’m still alive.
Still growing.
Still watching.
Still choosing to see.
Because sometimes mental health looks like
a piece of scrap paper,
a moving pen,
and the simple, sacred act of
marking time with wonder.
Fobbles used to be afraid of pumpkins, until he learned that you can carve faces and other shapes into said gourds to make jack-o-lanterns. And thus, he now raises pumpkins for a living.
A 4x6" colour sketch of Amroth Beach, Pembrokeshire in preparation for a much larger piece. The light that day was gorgeous, but the level of detail in the distance really could do with a larger canvas to make the most of it.
A 4x6" colour sketch of Sgwyd Gwladys in preparation for a much larger piece. Sgwyd Gwladys is a beautiful waterfall - one of many on the Neath 'Waterfall Country' walking route starting in Pontneddfechan.
This is part of a beautiful moment that was created as I was painting on these mini watercolour sheets. During the journey, I painted around 5 paintings. This is the first painting I painted during my train journey. A group of girls ( students ) got excited when I showed some of my paintings. So I gifted them this. More on the way ....
Pyotr Ilich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893)
At 9:30, Tchaikovsky set to work—composing at the piano only after he had dealt with any proofs or his correspondence, chores that he disliked. “Before setting about the pleasant task,” his brother noted, “Pyotr Ilich always hastened to get rid of the unpleasant.”
After lunch he went for a long walk, regardless of the weather. His brother writes, “Somewhere at sometime he had discovered that a man needs a two-hour walk for his health, and his observance of this rule was pedantic and superstitious, as though if he returned five minutes early he would fall ill, and unbelievable misfortunes of some sort would ensue.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“Truly there would be reason to go mad were it not for music.”
― Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky
“If you do not want to write, at least spit on a piece of paper, put it in an envelope, and send it to me. You are not taking any notice of me at all. God forgive you – all I wanted was a few words from you.”
― Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
#dailyrituals #inktober #PeterTchaikovsky @masoncurrey
Llyn Mymbyr, Snowdonia. This view looking in the opposite direction to Snowdon. First time using a Uniball UB-150, but the paper allowed it to bleed somewhat so the lines were a little heavier than intended. I think it would benefit from better quality paper or a finer pen.
