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I love cartoon art.

I redrew a character from quite a while ago! id love for any feedback :)

It was so chilly that I wanted to pack up early but also really wanted to finish painting the Santa Monica skyline

“And of all the things on earth you could draw, you drew a carton of strawberry milk?” “Heck yes”

A cute bonsai character with a fierce expression holds two swords, wearing an orange martial arts outfit and a headband with a red symbol. Its head is stylized as a bonsai tree, with vibrant green foliage, set against a dynamic red background and the words "BANZAI BONSAI!" above.

A bonsai tree sits in a black pot against a bright yellow circular background with humorous text surrounding it. The words "Why aren't they called... Bonsai People?" suggest a playful twist on the terms little person, person with dwarfism or person of short stature.

a planet has continents that are concepts. there are arrows indicating "immigration" and "emigration" between the continents. the continents are concepts.... there is movement between "they/them" , "she/her", and "he/him". there is also movement between "black", "Hispanic", and "white". there is also movement between "Spain", "Mexico", and "Brazil". gender is a concept. race is a concept. nationality is a concept.

I am very open to any way I could improve, please give feedback :)

Behold the Chair (inspired by Wendell Berry) Make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet. The chair does not strive. It does not speak loudly. It simply is— ready to receive, to hold what comes, to honor the silence. This drawing does not shout. It listens. It does not disturb the quiet— it joins it. Like a prayer whispered to the One who listens back, this mark is a presence, not a performance.

Hey! I'm back! Working hard on my outfits, got inspired by some steampunk pirates and decided to try my hand.

Lindsey's prompt: Turtleneck

A dense cluster of geometric buildings sits beside the phrase "Offline is the New Rich" highlighting a contrast between urban and online life, and simplicity. To the right, a small house stands alone surrounded by trees and clouds.

Named after my Wu Tang Clan moniker, according to some name generator…

Had another drawing in progress I started at my art club tonight that I finished en route home… and here we are!

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

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.

I'm back with this vibe

“Any means necessary to overcome the creator’s block”

A person is depicted wearing a large pet recovery cone around their neck, trying to check his smartphone with the words "Digital Detox" prominently displayed. The image humorously comments on the idea of needing a barrier to reduce phone usage.

And that concludes another sketchbook! Got through this one quite quickly…

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.

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.

#YinYang #Design #Patience #Breema #NoHurryNoPause #Clock #AlarmClock #PauseButton #Balance #Typography #Mindfulness #ZenQuote #YogaInspired #Wellness #Meditation #Motivational #Positivity #Tranquility #MindfulLiving #SelfCare #Mantra #Quote #Philosophy #Principle #JoseloRochaArt

I made this after geting back into the undertale fandom, and realized that it would be cool to see an AU of both Undertale and Gravity Falls together!