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?
Just finished the excellent EXPLORING Kourse (Sketchbook Skool), I had to set my own agenda. I am trying to get used to using watercolors. I like it when they don't fill the page entirely. Here is an archerfish trying to catch an insect by spitting at it,
This is the the Icelandic parliament house in Reykjavik Iceland.
Usually I don´t draw houses, I am more into faces, but have always wanted to draw houses though and enjoy watching them. This house has always been one of my favourite.
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.
When Rebelle 3 by Escape Motions came out I wanted to create something that really shows off its power. I normally draw in fountain pen first, but this was created entirely from scratch in Rebelle 3.
Digital art tends to be cold and impersonal, but Rebelle's watercolor simulation looks & feels like real paint... and you can undo! That's critical for illustration work, as clients often request changes... But even for personal work- it means an artist can achieve a watercolor look without being at the mercy of the medium. So the result is more true to his or her vision.
This is the 3rd piece that I painted during my train journey. I painted this scene after missing my greeny patches on house from outside. I didn't like how this painting turned out to be. But still fine T_T
August pictures...
Highlights include spending time on a lake with beloved friends, a chukar (a partridge native to Asia) walking into Home Depot and a happy young woman in a beautiful red dress in a subway. I love watching people in subways (and everywhere else).
#dailydrawing
A character concept drawing of a pirate vampire character I created for a collab writing project that died. His clothing and even his hair borrowed aspects from various jelly fish as inspiration. " The snap of inky sails catching the wind punctuated the subtle wooden creaks of the Sea Nettle as it slid over glossy black waves. The night was oppressive. With the moon obscured by clouds, the ship, with its doused lamps and its dark wood was nearly invisible as she crept closer to her prize. Tallis stood on the forecastle, one foot propped against the railing, his hands supporting a spyglass. He drifted the lens between the lights below deck, counting each of them and making note of any movement on the upper deck and in the rigging. A single sailor was at the helm. Another was lazily standing beside him, possibly engaged in conversation that distracted him from his watch. This was to be expected, not many would dare to disturb such a well-equipped vessel of the Luthen royal fleet. Nettie's crew was lesser in numbers, but they were experts in what few on the high seas could manage. Tonight, would be a quiet strike. Open combat spelled unnecessary danger for his crew."
It's a perfect day to watch a quarrel between a rat sentry and a tailless rat. Thank goodness, F train was running poorly so I could watch this for 10 min.
"Untitled," 8×10, Scratchboard: I think it's become evident that I enjoy making portraits no matter what the medium is. I still find it fascinating how much eyes can say, and they can usually fill in the gaps where words fail. I took a chance using Scratchboard, but I think it worked out, I'm pleased with it. I suppose this is a new member of the Black and White Portrait Club :)
It’s one of my OC’s (her name is Annie, short for Anabella). She has heterochromia, meaning she has 2 colored eyes, and I tried to match the butterflies with the color of the eye on the opposite side. The angle is supposed to be from above, with her laying down, and her hair spread out.
More practice. So difficult to get over that learning hump lol. I feel like I am riding my bike up a hill and I'm struggling lol. However, I REALLY want to learn this art form.
The name "Mokumokuren" literally means "many eyes" or "continuous eyes". The Mokumokuren is considered by the Japanese to be one of the traditional inhabitants of haunted houses.
The only way to remove the spirit from the wall is to patch up the holes in it.
