Fineliner scribblings on a back ground of paper... . . . ... . . . . . . ..... . ... . . . . . ...... ... . . A rabble of sozzled birds on a tightrope of joy heading towards the puppet master up above. . . .... . . ... . .... .. .... .. ... . . . . Prints are available (16 out of 20 at the time of going to press) . ..............................
Birds bikes and bells. It started as a quick bike doodle and then I got carried away. I kinda like getting carried away. I seldom know where it will end up.
When I am angry and frustrated with the world (politics, wild fires, injustice, etc.) I seem to be drawn to drawing raptors. The first one is today's sketch, the other two are from former days.
Blackwing pencil and woodless B4 pencil on Canson sketch paper.
No one knows where it is or why it exsists, but some believe it is a realm of wonder, where magic lives and evil consumes every inch of its vast desert.
Wanted to practice with some charcoal but couldn't resist collaging it up a bit! A great way to hide mistakes (or laziness!) Tui's are NZ's most successful native bird.
Have you ever woken up from begging "I wanna pee-pee" whimpering closely to your ear? Or from a barking alarm because the birds are singing loudly outside? Yea-ah, dogs are the best alarm clocks... We're sure you'll have a woof-derful week, guys!
I understand some noise.
Sínto rumôr.
"English as She is Spoke" by Jose da Fonseca and Pedro Carolina.
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