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I am a developer, and coding is my world. But when it comes to, say, the "life" part of life skills? Not so much. After a grueling 72-hour coding marathon, fueled by nothing but caffeine and questionable decisions, I made a mistake I now regret on a cosmic level: I spilled coffee on my external hard drive, the very drive that stored access to my digital wallet, holding a significant sum. At first, I told myself it wasn't that bad; surely a little splash wouldn't be a big deal, right? With confidence in my tech skills, I turned to the internet for answers. One search result boldly asked: "Can you dry a hard drive in the microwave?" Spoiler alert: absolutely not. Don’t try this under any circumstance. I’m lucky I didn’t end up with melted plastic or worse. After my solo data recovery efforts failed catastrophically, panic set in. This wasn't just lost files, this was years of effort, wiped in a moment. That’s when I found Digital Resolution Services. Desperate and admittedly a bit embarrassed, I reached out, hoping for a miracle. From the moment they answered, I could tell I was in capable hands. The team was calm, professional, and reassuring, never once mocking my questionable DIY methods (which, looking back, I probably deserved). Instead, they got straight to work, applying specialized tools and expertise to my situation. The process wasn’t easy. It involved long nights, constant updates, and a rollercoaster of emotions. But Digital Resolution Services never gave up. They stayed committed, persistent, and focused every step of the way. When they finally restored access to my wallet, I was overwhelmed with relief not just because the funds were safe, but because I could finally sleep without stress. That experience taught me something valuable: sometimes, it’s not about being the expert in everything, it's about knowing when to trust the right ones. Now, I keep my coffee and hard drive far apart. And every time I take a sip of that morning brew, I remember: if your data matters, don’t gamble, reach out to professionals like Digital Resolution Services. TELEGRAM: @DIGITALRESOLUTIONSERVICES WHATSAPP: +1 (361) 260 8628

My Easter OC! tear it apart, i will really appreciate any way I can improve.thanks so much!

Anoia is an actual Goddess, and not a Patron Saint, but I really wanted to draw her. Anoia is the Goddess of Things That Get Stuck in Drawers, a minor goddess on the Discworld (by Terry Pratchett - and if you don't know who he is, you should read his books! You can start with Small Gods -it is a standalone in the Discworld world. Or Guards! Guards! is another good choice). When someone rattles a drawer and cries "How can it close on the damned thing but not open with it? Who bought this? Do we ever use it?", even though the person might be genuinely irritated or even exasperated, it is as praise unto Anoia. Faithful Anoians (worshippers of Anoia) purposefully rattle their drawers and complain every day. Anoia also finds objects that roll under other objects and things stuck in sofa cushions, and is considering handling stuck zippers. She eats corkscrews. Her name is clearly derived from "annoy". Anoia she was formerly the volcano goddess Lela. She mentions that she has not been in her current position long, but what constitutes a long time to a god is unclear. discworld.fandom.com/wiki/Anoia #patronSaints #terryPratchett

A Brief Pause at the Edge of Becoming It seems I am always seeking a place to sit— not just to rest the body, but to settle the soul. Yet even in stillness, Gary Brecka’s words whisper: “The quickest way to old age is the aggressive pursuit of comfort.” So I do not stay long. I walked until I found a picnic table beneath a canopy of bare-limbed trees, branches like open hands waiting for green. The blue spruces nearby— stoic, unchanged, whispering that some things endure. I sketched. Not perfectly. Not for anyone’s praise. Just a mark to say: I was here. Alive in this in-between. Waiting. Listening. Not for leaves— but for something truer than comfort. Thank you for joining me in this small noticing. A moment borrowed from the rush. A table. A tree. A thought. A gift.

YOU'RE MY DEADLY DEADLY NIGHTSHADE OH ATROPA BELLADONNA THEY SAY YOU ARE DEATH INCARNATE AND I SHOULD STAY FAR AWAY - Blackbriar - Deadly Nightshade I did a thingy for my mutual. Her name is Belladonna and she is DC OC. ;) As I was drawing, I noticed how genius her design is. Her "villain" costume looks like the petals of a belladonna, her blonde hair and light skin like anthers (I belive that's how they called), her freckles like pollen. I don't know if it's inrentional, but it's amaizing! I can't draw clothes yet And hands And everything Spare me! It's also my first time drawing flowers :D

Original work idea from Simone Cantarini Oil painting on canvas

Introducing my anxiety, depression, and very close friend. Wrecks.

I love cartoon art.

para este tercer día de esta semana de sobre los personajes de comfort hoy le toca a este adorable conejito que le encanta patinar y el helado se llama cuddles

As it does!

Mark Twain (1835–1910) In the 1870s and ’80s, the Twain family spent their summers at Quarry Farm in New York, about two hundred miles west of their Hartford, Connecticut, home. Twain found those summers the most productive time for his literary work, especially after 1874, when the farm owners built him a small private study on the property. That same summer, Twain began writing The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. His routine was simple: he would go to the study in the morning after a hearty breakfast and stay there until dinner at about 5:00. Since he skipped lunch, and since his family would not venture near the study—they would blow a horn if they needed him—he could usually work uninterruptedly for several hours. “On hot days,” he wrote to a friend, “I spread the study wide open, anchor my papers down with brickbats, and write in the midst of the hurricane, clothed in the same thin linen we make shirts of.” Whether or not he was working, he smoked cigars constantly. One of his closest friends, the writer William Dean Howells, recalled that after a visit from Twain, “the whole house had to be aired, for he smoked all over it from breakfast to bedtime.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” ― Mark Twain #dailyrituals #inktober #MarkTwain @masoncurrey

#PleinAirpril Day 1 ∙ When I visited this park a week before, I didn’t see the candy there at first. The second time I visited, I realized they were disguised as trees.

para el dia 31 y último de Marchusic decidí hacerlo con Vineria declarando su amor a OWAKCX porque creo que esta canción calza con ellos dos, gracias a todos por disfrutar de estos dibujos espero que les haya gustado

A 4 x 6 inch postcard, mixed media of a pair of Canada geese

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.

Yoga Namaste - Acrylic and stippling on canvas.

There’s a lot of waiting in life. Waiting in lobbies. Waiting on answers. Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered. I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe. I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.” It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for? But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.” I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad. Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing. We can be still and deeply active inside. We can pause without being passive. And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head: “That sounds like a first-world problem.” “Speak life.” “Be thankful. Rejoice always.” And she’s right. So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative. Something kind. Something that turns a delay into a doorway.

para el dia 28 de Marchusic he decidido hacerlo dedicado esta canción sobre un trío de heroínas y para esta ocasión decidí hacer de otro trío de heroínas muy conocidas salvando al mundo antes de irse a dormir ❤️

Finally had time to finish this!

para el dia 27 de Marchusic he decidido hacerlo dedicado esta canción y esta ocasión la protagoniza la pareja de DJ gato y gatita sirena conocidos como DJ Catnip y Mercat con esta canción

Years ago, while digging through old journals and sketches, I stumbled across a quick, scribbled drawing of two pears. Beneath it, I'd written a raw and honest note: "Ann is pissed. I think it's because she's uncertain about me, us, life itself. She just ran into my car with the van. She says it was an accident, but she seems happier now—almost like it was cathartic. . . Like sex." At the time, I scribbled this in frustration, feeling a deep disconnect between us. Intimacy had become a confusing and distant concept in our relationship. The pears I'd sketched were rough and scratchy, charged with my chaotic feelings. Looking back, I see how emotions can drive us to strange actions, some intentional, some accidental, often leaving us oddly relieved afterward. Humans are complex, fascinating beings, navigating messy emotions and messy relationships, sometimes colliding intentionally or unintentionally, seeking relief in unexpected ways. Perhaps the pears were my subconscious pun on "pair," reflecting the awkward, confusing way Ann and I were bumping through life together—making messes, but occasionally finding strange humor and genuine catharsis in the chaos. I've learned to smile gently at the rawness of our humanity, appreciating even our scratchy sketches and emotional collisions. They're reminders that life, relationships, and our own hearts are never simple, but they're authentically human. Here's to embracing life's unexpected catharsis and finding humor in our imperfections.

Herman Melville (1819–1891) "I rise at eight—thereabouts—& go to my barn—say good-morning to the horse, & give him his breakfast. (It goes to my heart to give him a cold one, but it can’t be helped.) Then, pay a visit to my cow—cut up a pumpkin or two for her, & stand by to see her eat it—for it’s a pleasant sight to see a cow move her jaws—she does it so mildly & with such a sanctity." - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “I would prefer not to.” ― Herman Melville, Bartleby the Scrivener “A smile is the chosen vehicle of all ambiguities.” ― Herman Melville, Pierre; or, The Ambiguities #dailyrituals #inktober #HermanMelville @masoncurrey

para el dia 21 de Marchusic, aunque no estamos en el mes de orgullo igual cada vez que escuche esta canción lo primero que se me viene a la cabeza es (Mr.) X qué le queda bien con dicha canción (sí se lo están preguntando si lo conocí gracias a esa escena de 31 minutos)

For the 17th of Marchusic, I couldn't think of what to do for this beautiful Meccano song so I made a small reference to the famous moon rabbit with COOKY

for the 16th of Marchusic, sometimes dragegs although he is a dragon mixel stronger than a volcano when he thinks of Delirilamy he becomes hot as a kettle of water (by the way I decided to redesign it because I felt that his original design did not look like a mixels)

"AN IDIOT! A FOOL!" "No... You're perfect, and don't let anyone make you think otherwise." Arkham Origins ends with angst for this pairing, which is not surprising. Context: Edward finds out that his girlfriend seduced him to ruin his plans because she is an informant, and his plan to expose corruption in Gotham would mean devaluing all the secrets she collected. It's a long story and who hasn't been a young ambitious careerist?.. Uh, maybe Amber is a special case, but she regrets it!.. Falling in love with him was not part of her plan, but it is what it is and everyone is unhappy and heartbroken in the end.

para el dia 13 de Marchusic he decidido aprovechar para dibujar esta tierna parejita de hamster con esta canción sobre todo porque me recuerdan a Hamtaro y Bijou

I think I should say that I do not speak English, and I use a translator...o（ｉДｉ）o ••• I've been gone a long time. And I'm with my original character! This is Vivien Shaw, nicknamed "the prophet." He can predict the future, travel through time, and many other things, he-he! (*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ Well, what else can I say about him... Yes, perhaps there is nothing? Ah, good night to me!.. (*´﹀`*)

As you can probably tell, kitties are my favorite thing to draw.