Inktober2018day14. Clock. I love time. I hate time. It goes too fast and there’s never enough of it. If I had more of it, I would be able to post every day for inktober. I wasn't going to participate this year, but after 4 or 5 days in, I figured if I did a very simple line drawing, like I started doing with the little box chicken character I could make every remaining day, but I just couldn't stop myself from going all out on some pieces. It's like I always want to add more. So maybe it’s going to be quality not quantity for me this year. Please enjoy.
Australian author mbpardy & I have a children's book coming out soon called "Graham's Up the Tree." This illustration from the book makes a good countdown to release.
"At 6 o'clock the window squeaks and mum calls time" from Graham's Up the Tree. It must have been strange for mbpardy to see his his story interpreted through my illustrations... but page by page these characters came to life, with both of our contributions somehow adding up to something bigger.
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.
Super Nationals at the Gaylord—two rivers running through the lobby, actual boats gliding under glass ceilings, a nature center tucked between restaurants. Noise everywhere: kids, clocks, pawns and queens. Yet here, in the middle of it, a pause. A man leans back with the weight of waiting. A woman sits, at ease but still seeking. An empty chair remembers everyone who has rested there. In a place built to dazzle, what lingered with me was not the spectacle, but the silence. To draw is to honor the quiet within the clamor.
thinking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
Have you ever woken up from begging "I wanna pee-pee" whimpering closely to your ear? Or from a barking alarm because the birds are singing loudly outside? Yea-ah, dogs are the best alarm clocks... We're sure you'll have a woof-derful week, guys!
The symbolic painting "Expectations" is filled in with both literal and metaphorical meanings. Time passes very quickly, but when we are waiting for something, it practically stands still. Expecting an event can be unbearably tiring, or it can be enjoyable. It all depends on the circumstances. And everyone can remember something similar. The girl depicted in the painting is possibly expecting a child, or perhaps some other event. She gently hugs the clock, a symbol of time, like the belly of a pregnant woman. This expectation reveals all her inner feelings, doubts, fears, and hopes associated with this event. Time drags on for an impossibly long period, so long that it seems to her that she has already grown old from this expectation. In the painting, the artist indicates this with the gray hair of a young girl. Despite the long wait, the girl smiles and hopes for the best. The artist used warm pastel colors of oil paints on canvas with gilding. The painting was created using clockwork to enhance the meaning. The artwork "Expectations" is part of a “Time” series of paintings with clocks.
Ink on sketchbook paper
subject: illustration for the national paper
Size :11" x 14"
Date: 10/20/2017
Artist: Stephen J. Vattimo
This ink illustration was created for a pumpkin design for a carving contest.
The hands grasped tightly in prayer. The national flag in tatters, representing all the trials and tribulation the nation is going through,
The compass represents seeking direction.
The who illustration making the statement,
The need for a nation to look to God for direction, and healing of our land.
God made a promise to the nation Of Israel, which I believe is offered to any nation.
2 Chronicles 7:14
and My people who are called by My name humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin and will heal their land.
Written by Stephen J. Vattimo
In this photo I drew two Betta fish, a clock and a female in a dark background. Drawing this picture was more of a self expression. The two betta fish expressed conflict; the clock expressed running out of time and the female I guess would represent myself. I was in a dark period while drawing this, but happy to say, I’ve managed to pull through my obstacles =)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
In a 1782 letter to his sister, he gave a detailed account of these hectic days in Vienna:
"My hair is always done by six o’clock in the morning and by seven I am fully dressed. I then compose until nine. From nine to one I give lessons. Then I lunch..."
From "Daily Rituals: How Artists Work", edited and with text by Mason Currey.
I collaged "Krampus is Coming For You" together with my own monoprints as well as one of my drawings of Japanese Noh masks that I cut out of an old sketchbook. For the second piece, I had a drawing of Marie Antoinette as an ice cream cone, so I gave her a dress, put a background of my monoprints on her, etc. Then I added more cherries, and the circle reminded me of a clock, so I inked in the arms accordingly.
