caught

Love of my life caught in a contemplative moment in a Midtown NYC coffee shop. Ballpoint Pen on Archival 9” x 12” paper, Adobe Photoshop.

This week has been dedicated mainly to creating a birthday gift for my other coach (Happy 31st B-day!!). I won't ramble on for too long, but I'm so extremely lucky to have him as a coach and in my life. I can't thank him enough for all the times he's caught me/saved me from wiping out, and for being someone I can genuinely trust. Thank you to him for making the gym a safe space for me, and for letting me open up. Anyway, I really enjoyed making this, though I can't deny I got stuck (idea wise) at one point.

sitting in a japanese restaurant and these two caught my eye! pen, ink, watercolor ane gouache on paper

Don’t get caught here unawares… I don’t suggest you take the stairs. The treasure that this castle keeps, deep beneath the water sleeps. But if you’re patient with the tides, there’s another path it hides. Quickly now! Find the door! and hurry back onto the shore. For the moon, she will not wait to turn the tide and flood the gate. Don’t get caught here unawares… I don’t suggest you take the stairs.

My day work consists in taking good pictures, so I always hunt for fine pictures. One afternoon, walking on the beach, I admired a stunning nature scene: majestic sunset, gold sunshine, calm water, white bamboo clouds covering part of the sun. The air is cool and the landscape is calm. My camera I took out and this gorgeous scene I caught. © All Rights Reserved

Sketch: Caught

Thoughts caught in doodle form.

It has been a delight to share with my students the incredible resource of people. Over the years, I’ve had the great privilege of connecting them with inspiring individuals such as Lois Ehlert, Dave Nice, Gregory Martens, Colette Odya Smith, and—as seen in this “Behind the Professor” sketch—Dr. Gaylund Stone. There’s something powerful about the presence of someone who lives their craft with humility and depth. In moments like these, my students are reminded that more is often caught than taught.

A Female Pied Flycatcher Ficedula Hypoleuca… The Pied Flycatcher is a summer migrant to the UK. As the name suggests, it feeds on flies that are caught by making a quick dash from an obvious perch. There are around 40,000 pairs in the UK each summer. The Pied Flycatcher is a small unmistakable bird that often sits with drooped wings. It spends its winter in Africa. Identification: Adult Adult males and females share the same plumage pattern but are different colours. Male Pied Flycatchers are small and chunky,13cm in length and are black and white all over, they are quite unmistakable. The upperparts are black and white, tail is black with white base to outer tail feathers, rump is a slightly paler, back is jet black, wings are black with white wing patch (tertials) The nape and head is black except for small white patch above the black bill. Chin and throat white, extending to form a half collar. The entire underparts are white, ie; chin, throat, breast, belly and undertail coverts. Legs, bill and eye black. Females are brown versions of the male although tail is dark, no obvious white patch over the bill and the collar is less distinct. #piedflycatcher #brd #birdart #birdartist #birdsketch #birddrawing #bampidraws #birdlovers

Took me very long to finally accept the fact that I can do anything, draw anthing on my sketchbook, that my sketchbook is a safe place for me to experiment, play, and explore styles, themes, mediums, and other ideas. I used to be so caught up in developing my own style, and being devoted to drawing only portraits.. Well.. now I’ll remember to “just draw!”

A draw this in your style which caught all my attention, loved the idea of the image, "Crying oceans".

Last week trip-date to Jogjakarta with my Papa and i try to doodle everything that caught me.

A 20x36 canvas A surreal shoreline unfolds beneath a weathered lighthouse, where reality bends into myth. Planes drift through muted skies, a UFO lifts a van from the cliffs, and the sea itself seems alive—its waves whispering forgotten tales. Between the moon’s watchful eye and the wreckage below, every fragment hints at a story untold, a dream caught between the tide and time.

I caught some waves of a lilac ocean in a vase and also painted it.

One of my favourite drawings. You can tell I was really on that day. So few strokes of the pencil caught shape and light. I won't sell this drawing.

Years ago, I sketched Gibby at work—pencil in hand, bold strokes alive with motion. I caught them from over the shoulder: just the back of their head, the soft curve of their face, and that focused arm bringing something into being. They were 9 or 10 then, already showing the spark of creativity and concentration that pointed toward who they’d become. Now in their mid-20s, Gibby is thoughtful, insightful—quick to listen, slow to speak, and wired to process the world with care. Their path has been remarkable: two degrees in 2.5 years, no debt. That didn’t happen by accident. It took grit, German immersion schooling, 16 college credits earned in high school, and testing out of 24 more once at university. That’s Gibby—quietly determined, resourceful, and steady. But their story isn’t just academic. Gibby’s always been gifted with their hands—drawn to set design, locksmithing, welding. Trades they wanted to pursue early on, and still feel pulled toward. They’re at a bike shop now. It’s not the dream, but it fits: their hands know how to build, repair, and reshape the world. There’s been frustration—maybe even anger—that we didn’t let them follow the trade route right away. I get that now. Life veers, and sometimes the path chosen isn't the one imagined. But Gibby’s resilience—their ability to adapt and press on—is what I admire most. They’ve embraced their journey with honesty, stepping into their identity as a they/them person, unafraid to define success in their own terms. That takes courage. I’m proud of them—not for a résumé, but for who they are. This old drawing isn’t just a memory—it’s a thread connecting past to present. A reminder that the creative spark, the steady hands, the deep soul I saw back then is still shining. So here’s to you, Gibby: the kid who sketched with fire and the adult who still shapes the world with quiet brilliance. Your value has never been about the path you’re on. It’s about the person you are. And I’ll be here, cheering you on—every step of the way.

I keep seeing the word 'binary' crop up a lot in various discourses I’ve caught a glance at recently, whether it pertains to discussions around things like cancel culture or countless other things too numerous to mention. Funny what the lack of a middle ground these days does to certain people, irrespective of their political/ethical viewpoints...

I was looking at some pictures, this one caught my eye, so I gave it a shot.

That time when Arya caught the Valyrian dagger, Catspaw, and stuck it to the Night King! Now that was a momentous scene to watch! *I have already completed the entire Inktober- you can check it out on my IG account: @dittofunkysketch123 :D

A LITTLE GIRL HAS CAUGHT A FAIRY IN AN APOTHECARY JAR

It’s okay they’re working on a way to get out

I had just started painting again and all the years if holding back...holding it in, caught up with me. California was burning and the demons inside of me were smoldering too, waiting to get out.

That time when age finally caught up to the feisty Maester at Castle Black, Aemon Targaryen. He cries out to ’Egg’, his brother once in a while and at one point said, ‘Egg, I dreamt I was old!’ - Not all old people are frail, some are healthy and hearty and incredibly robust and sturdy! At first I couldn’t decide whether to draw Maester Aemon or Jojen Reed, who despite being young, also grew frail as he helped Bran across the Wall to help him find the Three-Eyed Raven. I finally decided to save that one for another Inktober word prompt. I did wanted to draw Maester Aemon and honor the actor who played him, Peter Vaughn, who passed away in 2016.

Henry and Lucy caught these fish while fishing with Grandpa. The remarkable natural color—blue-green, gold, orange, violet, and pink—made the catch especially striking. A great subject for a watercolor study of color, texture, transparency, and reflected light.

Jury Duty, June 2013 Fifty of us sat in that room, each one staring at a phone or scribbling in a notebook, killing time. The lawyers asked their questions, picking us off one by one like a slow game of dodgeball. I wasn’t chosen, so I drew instead—earbuds, slouched shoulders, the hum of waiting caught in a few quick lines.

Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete. But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains. When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing. So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal? Perhaps presence itself is the real art.

Up on a hill, deep in Deadwood Lies an old shack, that fosters no good Inside this shack floats a very old being To seek it out, is to regret such a meeting A blue floating skull, who brings sweet promises of doom Sits all alone in a dark four corner room Why is the reason, this being is there Why does it beckon one to come near Its lonely and bored So it calls out to you The skull was once mighty and powerful too Causing great pain on subjects like you The beast of an age Caught by a mage imprisoned in here no longer to torment the world and spread fear But just being caught wasn’t enough It stifled its power but its will, was left uncorrupt The skull, now a seeker of dreams Destroyer of love, life, and of schemes #embracingnightmares