creativ

Happy (late) Earth Day

Had a thought to revisit one of my old worlds created during the creative streak over years ago. It was a world built from the primordial creative juices in my head, put from uncountable inspirations and knowledge bases learned from who knows forever. Here is a perspective of how a world is built from the rise of some fundamental ideas. What happens if you consider a world suspended in nigh microgravity conditions, a supercharged atmospheric envelope orbiting a twin neutron star system, gravitational suspension, intense magnetic fields and radiation? A extreme and chaotic environment bordering an impossible miracle, in a constant state of freefall. Not gonna lie, worldbuilding in detail is not easy. I don't have the mental and time resources these days, to expand a world in such intricate detail. Each of the scribbles above are mostly ideas of local flora and fauna that push the limits of my science knowledge base combined with accumulated general knowledge. Some of the concepts here are bordering magical fantasy, without even getting into the residing intelligent lifeforms.

Miyazaki’s wisdom and a goblin flavoured friend to start off today’s creative adventures…

I'm 16 yrs old beginner artist. This is my second attempt of pen sketching. Did you liked it? Rate it out of 10

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.

Rest in power Philip Seymour Hoffman! Your words ring true for all creative minds, no matter what they make.

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Pretty much me during my busy creative spells this week, and today was no exception!

“Most things benefit from contrast. The exception is the truth.” ~Golgaaryol, 2025. (Koh-I-Noor and Bambino crayons)

On the imagination road !

Anxiety and panic attacks make me feel like I want out of my own skin. I wanted to try and capture an extreme version of what it feels like.

I like to slow down, chill out, listen to music and just use a pen on paper.

As usual after a creative hiatus, I did some mindless doodling to get back into making.

Some friends of mine are big disney fans. I drew this to surprise them

In celebration of the Lunar New Year, hoping this year will be as fun as a game of snakes and ladder! Symbolism: ladder (progression), coin (prosperity), flower (unfolding/bloom of new adventures), oranges (a fruitful year).

Gouache, acrylic and watercolor markers, ink.

Gouache, iridescent watercolor, ink, on black mixed media paper.

A painting of a woman with seafoam green hair and a halo made of jellyfish. Himi gouache and various pens and markers on toned paper.

Charcoal sketch of nude females

2B pencil focusing on the eye, nose and mouth. The reflection today is a suggestion that we find what we look for, and we see what we want to see. Our family dinners include a sharing time of: 1. Who blessed you today? 2. Who did you bless today? and 3. What are you thankful for? It is suggested by some that if you focus on the abundance, you will not see so much of the lack, but if you focus on the lack, you will not be able to see the abundance so well. This was illustrated by the questions: "How many red cars did you see on the way to work this morning?" My answer was: "No Idea!" It is because I was not looking. If I was being given $100.00 for each red car I spotted, I would have certainly been looking, and maybe even getting creative with the definition of 'red'. What are you looking for? What are you finding?

Fourth Eye Girl, portrait of a girl with four eyes and horns, embracing the beauty of imagination. Marker and ink drawing.

Hi. Am I hard to see? You are free to look closer. This is how I will most frequently present myself as, drawn here in an effort to rejuvenate past drawing abilities . Both Ego and Shadow are delicately present as one, although still not the truly completed form. That is still outside my own grasp within the field of creativity. Everything here has some meaning, including the blank background. A "Domain" in the form of a canvas. The ability to bend reality. A shadow that opens the door to the extraordinary. The simple tools to channel one's creativity. Most importantly, an Avatar of one's being.

School art. At my previous school, during lessons, I created what I call 'folder art' (doodles on school folders) This particular piece features doodles of girls, celebrating girl power

This delightful black-and-white drawing captures the lively and playful essence of a whimsical animal parade. Bursting with creativity, each animal character showcases unique traits and expressions, bringing a joyful scene to life. From the adorable, tiny mice balancing on top of each other to the elegant elephants dancing gracefully, the artwork is a breathtaking celebration of harmony and fun in the animal kingdom. With its intricate details and enchanting charm, this piece invites viewers to step into a world of imagination and whimsy where animals parade with joy and carefree spirit.

"Like maggots in a dog's carcass, they fill me, my children..." A cosmic being known as "The Sleeper", "The Ugly", but most often he is proudly called "The Father". "Like maggots in a dog's carcass, they fill me, my children..." A cosmic being known as "The Sleeper", "The Ugly", but most often he is proudly called "The Father". I SWEAR I made him before I knew about Barbatos. Anyway, The Father sleeps deep beneath Gotham and unwittingly poisons the city and its population with his toxic aura. He is known to his cult as the God of Madness and Chaos. He simply cannot control his influence on those around, which makes him a villain of a tragic fate. I figured his existence would be a good enough explanation for why Gotham is such a rotten piece of society, with very creative supervillains who loves to be so extra and why they not executed horribly for everything they've done. The cult of his worshippers is quite old and includes a huge number of people trying to keep him asleep, because if he wakes up and gets out of his prison, it will be the end of the city, and maybe not only the city... I should point out: he's not actually a god, he's an alien, and he's not the embodiment of "chaos and madness" - he's a cosmic horror, most likely mentally ill and therefore his aura is toxic. He didn't create the villains or Batman, but his aura affected the environment in which they were created.

Samuel Beckett (1906–1989) On a late-night walk near Dublin harbor, Beckett found himself standing on the end of a pier in the midst of a winter storm. Amid the howling wind and churning water, he suddenly realized that the “dark he had struggled to keep under” in his life—and in his writing, which had until then failed to find an audience or meet his own aspirations—should, in fact, be the source of his creative inspiration. “I shall always be depressed,” Beckett concluded, “but what comforts me is the realization that I can now accept this dark side as the commanding side of my personality. In accepting it, I will make it work for me.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey #dailyrituals #inktober #samuelbeckett @masoncurrey

The story behind this is that when my little sister and I were kids, we invented a game called Blammer. You duct tape small trashcans to your back and try to slam a sock ball into your opponents basket. We used tennis rackets for defense. We used to terrorize our parents with all the running and yelling in the house. We're in our 30's now and try and play when we see each other. I call her Chicken and she calls me Ducky. Which is why we're are riding birds. One of my favorite pieces I've ever done. A birthday present for her.