I had some 2x2 inch stickers made up over the holidays and feel like sharing them with fellow Doodle Addicts. To get some, go to my Instagram (see link on my Doodle Addict profile page) and DM me an address to mail them to. They are available while I have them. Happy 2022 Doodle Addicts!
Marginalias' character are starting to flesh out, even if I still don't have a story.
These two are the princess (Who still doesn't have a name. Diana maybe?) a peryton and Ancelade, an atlas lion.
They met when they were kid ( 9-10 for Ancelade, about fifteen for the princess).
Ancelade was brought back from a war campaign by an old veteran knight who more or less adopted him and the Princess, when meeting a dirty, shivering lion cub, took him under her wing right away (quite literally, he used to fit under her wing, not anymore).
(The joke, every time this episode is mentioned, is that Ancelade's adoptive father, while already having fathered children, had no idea how to care for a child and probably thought they were self cleaning).
Once Ancelade properly cleaned up, the Princess discovered he was blond AND fluffy.
Ten years later, she is still the only one allowed to touch his mane.
Each think of the other as the brother or sister they don't have anymore. Even if everyone always ask them the same old question to which they answer in a mature and articulated way:
Are you lovers?
Done 2017 with lead pencils on 11x17 bristol paper. just wanted to draw some image with some story to it cuz usually my drawing do not look like it has stories. Original art is up for sale $60 USD (shipping fee will apply) email me jungmeister4@yahoo.com
Also I have my 2023 Wall calendar up for sale $19.95 with my artworks through Artwanted.com art community website. Click or copy / paste the link below and would be appreciated if you can support me on the calaneder.
https://www.artwanted.com/artist.cfm?ArtID=115637&Tab=Calendar
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.
Recently, I found this cartoon called "Rudolf" (not Rudolph) and instantly took a liking to the main character. The pose that I drew here can be found at the Youtube link below. https://youtu.be/mVCPCMMyWrU
