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#artdavidmeehan : WhatsApp: 00351 969 534 520 / meehan99@gmail.com / https://www.facebook.com/artdavidmeehan/ + #FUCorona2020 = bringing 2getherness while we have to stay apart from each other at least physically... Peace, love, hugs - but only spiritual 1s 4 now!! #corona #jokes #covid19 #cartoon #cartoons https://www.facebook.com/groups/fucorona2020/

Happy World Art Day :) !! #artdavidmeehan /+ 00351969534520 / meehan99@gmail.com / https://www.facebook.com/artdavidmeehan/ + #FUCorona2020 = bringing 2getherness while we have to stay apart from each other at least physically... Peace, love, hugs - but only spiritual 1s 4 now!! #corona #jokes #covid19 #cartoon #cartoons #worldartday #art https://www.facebook.com/groups/fucorona2020/

This is inspired from the the soundtrack to Gladator the film. Its about how most people will end up in some kind of Colosseum, metaphorically speaking. Life will throw at us many problems. A sketch for a body of work. The black cross is a sword buried in the ground. Maybe its a symbol of peace.

When we help someone there is always something that blooms and grows beyond us. It is an increasingly necessary action in a world that unfortunately is increasingly divided. @givingtuesdaypt challenged me to illustrate its movement inspired by this year's motto "Together we change the world"! This day is celebrated on the first tuesday after BlackFriday, calling on anyone to choose a cause that ressonates with them and give back to them however you can. Thus, a wave of massive generosity is created, which can (and should) extend beyond today! Are there any organizations you want to support? : .

The rufous-tailed plantcutter (Phytotoma rara), sometimes called the Chilean plantcutter, is a passerine bird of southern South America.

This piece was done with watercolour crayons, crayons, fineliner, acrylic paint and a touch of posca. I was showing that love can be blind and sometimes almost arrogant and selfish, the arrow has hit the spot on the second attempt but the scars are still to be seen. Although the person playing cupid aint always an outside force. I enjoy playing with the titles and am constantly changing and thinking of what it will be called when doing the piece, but i do like my wordplay. this one was a play on horticulture and felt it all tied in to the final design :)) This is available as an a3 sized print.

Another of one of my last doodles for the 100 Days Project. This is called "All in All" and it's directly inspired by All Apologies song by Nirvana.

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?

Autumn is a peculiar time, I suppose. It's one of the prettiest times of the year (in my opinion) and one of the most mysterious. I'm not sure what it is that leads to it, but my mental state always shifts dramatically during this time, not always in the best way. I don't know. The transition is darker and murkier.

I recently converted our garage into a studio space. The biggest construction project I've ever undertaken but I'm very happy with the end result. It's so nice to have a space made specifically for my creative process.

Illustration for a poem in a book called Tettrennial Drift.

I have been making cartoony social content for a local coffee shop called Bullet. This is a teapot with Bullet-flavoured-steam.

"I take a step outside and I breathe the air, and I slam the door, and I'm on my way. I won't lay no blame, I won't call you names. 'Cause I've made my break and I won't look back; I've turned my back on those endless games." Although I'm a bit late, May 1st was Decision Day (congrats to everyone in the class of 2021!), and I'm proud to say I'll be a Blue Demon this fall (a very sciencey one at that).

Watercolor This was drastically different from my usual stuff and lots of fun. I’m thinking of painting a few more cards to match in the same style but featuring different scenes. We shall see what pops out of my brush

I'm doing a series of illustrations (one a week) combining my love of designer chairs and cats. This weeks chair is the famous Panton. The cat is called Anton ::)

BEING GREEDY CHOKES ANANSI From Favorite Folktales around the world by Jane Yolen. One time, Anansi lived in a country that had a queen who was also a witch. And she decreed that whoever used the word five would fall down dead, because that was her secret name, and she didn’t want anyone using it. Now, Buh Anansi was a clever fellow, and a hungry one too. Things were especially bad because there was a famine, so Anansi made a little house for himself by the side of the river near where everyone came to get water. And when anybody came to get water, he would call out to them, “I beg you to tell me how many yam hills I have here. I can’t count very well.” So, one by one he thought they would come up and say, “One, two, three, four, five,” and they would fall down dead. Then Anansi would take them and corn them in his barrel and eat them, and that way he would have lots of food in hungry times and in times of plenty.

Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.

I’m often asked about my Bic pen drawings and how I do them. It starts with a good foundational drawing, the ballpoint pen part is just trying to colour within the lines. I try to do my best to explain the process, but the best way to show my progress is by posting my efforts to master pen drawings over the span of 3 or so years. I have been doodling/drawing with ballpoint pens as far back as I can remember - they were cheap, readily available and always lying around the house. It wasn’t until I was bored during a particularly long team meeting-conference call (around 2016-17) that I started to think about the possibilities of ballpoint pens as serious portrait illustration tools. My first experiments with full colour ink portrait drawings were rather crude, but that’s the point of learning new techniques—as long as the curiosity and the love of drawing is there, you can transfer that skill and passion into any medium. Remember, the most exquisite drawings and paintings you see didn’t materialise fully formed, they started out as failed experiments. Failure after failure after failure. It’s important to remember this when you get discouraged (I've failed spectacularly over the years). The only difference between the accomplished artist and the beginner is hundreds of hours of practice. Talent can only get you so far. It’s the hard work that you do behind the scenes that makes your work look effortless. Keep doodling. Keep learning. Stay curious.

An illustration for a Grimm's Fairy Tale in a Moleskine notebook. This one is for a kind of obscure story called The Companionship of the Cat and the Mouse. Just graphite.

All the faces above have the same blot or cloud as a base. When I am sick of the faces I draw automatically, I make a nice, oddly shaped blot and then look for faces (or whatever) within it. This time I did it digitally so I could see how many different faces I could get out of the same cloud. This time I stopped at thirteen, but I am sure there is more.

This was a labor of love. Completed with Prismcolor pencils and Copic Markers. I'm very influenced by my surroundings, and all around me are hipsters. I'm also surrounded by artist and those in studio & animation jobs that I hope to have one day. This piece reflects a point in my life of where I am physically and shows my career aspirations. And it was also just for fun because I love Rick&Morty.

Watercolor and India Ink on Yupo paper. If there is any single way to let go of detail and think simply, it is by using watercolor on Yupo paper. You basically have to surrender control and just see what happens.

Doodle with Pentel brush, and posca! A little bit note to self. "In between goals is a thing called life that has to be lived and enjoyed." by Sid Caesar.

Medusa has always been one of my favorite mythology figures . And ... well, here comes the rant , I'll never quite forgive Athena for making her like this . Ironically, I've only really seen Medusa in her monster form , and this form , in all its unique fierceness , is what I've always been attracted to . I know I'll probably get a lot pf flack for this ... so I'll just quit while I'm ahead . Enjoy the cute pic .

A bit of a departure from my usual style. I wanted to try something a bit messy, fast, and loose. The scene is an ancient woodland in Pembrokeshire called Tŷ Canol, an atmospheric place and full of inspiration for artworks. Pen and watercolour in Seawhite sketchbook.

“You learn to rise above a lot of bad things that happen in your life. And you have to keep going.” – Lauren Bacall⁠ Morning doodle 431 ⁠

A nautically colored doodle, drawn traditionally and colored digitally. Ahoy!

Call him chives ;)

Here's something I drew in 10 minutes this morning. I was on call waiting for work to start and my anxiety went through the roof. Not sure why, but it did. My friend asked me if this sketch was a sound, what would it be? I said static. That's what things feel like most of the time: all-consuming, loud, abrasive static.