(Black biro on a 75mm x 125mm notecard) A juxtaposed image of a comic book type image with an unrelated speech caption. The type of thing you tend to hear from those on their mobile phones on buses.
(2B pencil on a 139mm x 87mm postcard) A single comic book frame can sometimes tell a great story on its own, sometimes differing from the story in the actual comic book. An idea that I used with this frame that I drew.
(HB pencil on A6 card) An image I printed on cards that I sent out in 2014 that came with a story about how you should never make promises in letters to Santa!
(HB pencil on 85mm x 50mm card) For his crimes against her, Itchigon was condemned by the goddess Fortuna to remain forever as part of this amulet, bringing nothing but good luck to those that own it.
(fineliner pen on the back of a 55mm x 85mm business card) I accidently shredded this piece. It was a nice little drawing on the back of a business card, so it was annoying to lose it.
Un dibujo realizado en el museo de Frida Khalo en la ciudad de México.
Una reunión de las mascaras que se encuentran a lo largo de la casa, ese día me enteré que se les suelen llamar Judas
f someone can point me in the direction of a Lowly Worm plush for my collection that would be greatly appreciated, heheheh! Must confess though, I didn’t grow up with much in the way of Richard Scarry…
I'm great at doing the prep work for a big project. But Wrecks is always there to remind me how anxiety inducing a project of that scale is. So, he throws me into another one I'm not prepared for.
Sometimes wisdom comes in a joke,
and sometimes laughter carries truth.
Brian spoke like a sage,
Mike answered like a friend,
and together they held the room.
We draw to remember.
Not only the lines of faces,
but the presence of goodness,
the gift of voices that echo
long after the chairs are empty.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
Pezi
