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A3 format, acrylic, felt pen, colored pencils Visual artists from the World of Fantasy are familiar with these creatures who are alive to every creator. Their court cannot be affected, there is no way to deceive the inner voice that knows the truth, created by the Observers. When the artist starts with some work, they appear, at first in a small number. At the end of their work, eg some pictures or sculptures, and especially when finished, their number is significant, they carefully study the artwork, and if they see a mistake, disharmony, lack of emotions, etc., dissatisfied will grumble somewhere inside artist's insights. The artist will feel that his work is nothing special, similar to many other artistic attempts that disappear in the dark of forgetfulness. Some spark is missing in his artistic creation, which would do its job gave a life that lasts. The disapproval of the Observer, their unpleasant resonance, if frequent, it can make a more sensitive artist to dump the brush and consecrate himself a completely different job, in which self-criticism does not play a significant role.

Messing around with very mixed media. Pen, pencil, color pencil, colored sharpies, brush pen and acrylic pen. Just threw everything within arms reach at it lol.

Indian ink - marmot

Quick Lion created as an illustrator warm up!

Unaware - i don't think there's a good way to find out you're a robot...but having your skin melt off your arms to reveal a metal skeleton is probably not ideal.

Swarms of ideas, I know you can all relate....

trying to create a warm, cozy campfire feeling.

The Charminar was built in 1591, part of it is a mosque

NOTE: no dogs, shaggy or otherwise, we're harmed in the making of this comic

The freshness of morning withdrew in front of the warm rays of the sun. The Wizard of Cirilo Bum and I came to the High Meadow, one beautiful gazebo, where we planned to spend a day off. - Only those who work hard and get their work done, fully enjoy all the pleasure of a vacation - said the wizard Čirilo Bum. I did not answer him, my life plan was to work as little in life, for that reason, I have taught for the wizard at him. By the time we took the time to see the water that emerged from the earth, in the air she created a form of grapes and spirals of various colors that had disappeared in the unknown. The Ghosts of water had fun, trying to show each other their skills. We chose a place on the edge of the High Meadow for our accommodation, where we could watch the landscape: meadows and forests scattered to distant mountains of dark blue. Above us were an old, large yew tree as created to keep us from the strong sun and the negative energy. Below the meadow was stretched by which a dozen young dragons rode along and across, skillfully changed the direction of movement and twisted with their long bodies, they played hunting. Hidden in the crown of a large oak tree near us, pointed snake watched their game with their big green eyes, but I noticed that she quickly dropped into sleep. Then I remember that I did not do some important jobs yesterday, Čirilo Bum will definitely see it when we get home. It spoils my mood a bit, and I pulled out of the baskets a few of the dried sausages that the old wizard worked so well. Full stomach I always better mood. - There are rare opportunities to see the Big Redbeak - suddenly spoke Cirilo Bum - bird right now wants to snatch egg. I stared for a while around so Čirilo Bum says: I said Big. And indeed, I find him so big that several other creatures sought accommodation in his body. Cirilo Bum spent almost all day hovering in the crown of the old yew, napping with a satisfied look on his face. Every time I was constantly tortured by the fact that I would have to listen, a critic of the old wizard, when we come home because of my unsolved tasks. My nervousness I softened so that I ate all the food from the basket. Late in the afternoon, we went home, from the trees they began to descend some new, hitherto unseen beings in search for food or night hideout. Spirit of water was gone, but a good part of the way, perhaps from curiosity, we were followed by other inhabitants of the World of Fantasy, were to me welcome companions, I took my thoughts with them, to the house. A 3 format

Quick sketches first thing in the morning. Before the alarm goes...

It’s a work in progress, I haven’t started on shadowing yet. The armor overall is Mark V, but the helmet is Mark IV. Inspiration for this came from how 343 mentioned Halo Infinite will be taking a lot of stuff from Halo Combat Evolved, which has been my favorite. With a little anime mixed in as the face. My favorite part about this so far is the whole ‘exploration/unknown’ aspect, since Halo CE levels were pretty big and fun to look around. And the landscapes especially inspired this, showing just how much is out there.

Watercolor illustration of veggie baskets at the Farmers Market.

A few illustrations from a project for the Dallas Farmers Market.

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?

Watercolour!

"If MF DOOM was a fox, he’d pro’ly steal a kid and lock it up in a box. But not to do it harm... More to save it from a life of working on a farm. He’d do that kid a favor. He would save her. Just what you would expect from a friendly rapping neighbor."

Original Mix media art by YUKA

a warmup I did a while back

Just a quick warm up doodle. Nothing special.

Get off moi land...!

Dragonfly. Pen and ink plus watercolour. Quick doodle on a cold day dreaming of the warmer weather of summer time!

Quick line drawing capturing man heading to warming shelter

"Flying in the sky with a lady in its arms, The Platform's heading fast out to the farm. She was harmed unknowingly and now she will become a seed, From which the platforms now will feed until they breed." -- Drawn with fountain pens, colored with my iPad using Procreate.

A charming neighbourhood place, Grandmama's Cafe

Did you know that February 8, National Kite Flying Day? You'd think it would be in warmer weather. Go to my profile for more info on my sandwich bags.