Just finished the excellent EXPLORING Kourse (Sketchbook Skool), I had to set my own agenda. I am trying to get used to using watercolors. I like it when they don't fill the page entirely. Here is an archerfish trying to catch an insect by spitting at it,
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.
This is the book I made which contains the educational paper I wrote and illustrated about my trip to China in the summer of 2017. I gave a lecture entitled, The Sketchbook: Let's Connect at ICON10, The Illustration Conference in Detroit, MI this past July. I gave a few of these books out along with pocket sketchbooks to the audience. Below are a few spreads from the 40-page book.
A character concept drawing of a pirate vampire character I created for a collab writing project that died. His clothing and even his hair borrowed aspects from various jelly fish as inspiration. " The snap of inky sails catching the wind punctuated the subtle wooden creaks of the Sea Nettle as it slid over glossy black waves. The night was oppressive. With the moon obscured by clouds, the ship, with its doused lamps and its dark wood was nearly invisible as she crept closer to her prize. Tallis stood on the forecastle, one foot propped against the railing, his hands supporting a spyglass. He drifted the lens between the lights below deck, counting each of them and making note of any movement on the upper deck and in the rigging. A single sailor was at the helm. Another was lazily standing beside him, possibly engaged in conversation that distracted him from his watch. This was to be expected, not many would dare to disturb such a well-equipped vessel of the Luthen royal fleet. Nettie's crew was lesser in numbers, but they were experts in what few on the high seas could manage. Tonight, would be a quiet strike. Open combat spelled unnecessary danger for his crew."
It's not every day, thought the Cat, when you get to be a cosmonaut and fisherman at once.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CZAVtVdpJ5Z/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."
Due to COVID-restrictions, Edinburgh urban sketchers have been sketching virtually in Catalonia using Google street view. Here’s one of my contributions. It’s somewhere in Amposta ... unfortunately, didn’t take note of the actual street :O Pencil, brush pens and posca on coloured A4.
Bear.
Among the backwoodsmen of America there was a superstition that bears breed only once every seven years, and when they did this caused such a disturbance in the atmosphere that any cattle in the district which were about to calve would lose their young.
From "A DICTIONARY OF OMENS AND SUPERSTITIONS" by Philippa Waring. https://www.instagram.com/p/CA5Y7HaBrTw/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Landschaftpark Duisburg-Nord, Germany. This abandoned steel mill is transformed into a industrial heritage centre and landscape park. It's a great location for photographers and urban sketchers.
