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Its just weird like Garfild (From TheOdd1sOut)

I doodled the cover of this sketchbook almost 2 years ago, and I'm dying to give it a second shot! To be continued...

I took a doodle and sort of turned it into a mandala. I did my best, and I think that counts for something.

Doodling mandalas recently for some odd reason!

iPad Pro sketch

This piece began as a multi-colored abstract . . . but it was nowhere . . . nothing . . . and had no essence. So, I tried to take it in the direction of a landscape . . . and that was horrible. I gave the entire piece a whitewash using a white acrylic paint pen. And then the idea popped into my head to Doodle over the colored background. The title reflects the fact that the piece only came to life with the addition of the Doodles . . .

I miss my cat Emma while I'm at work

Bluebird was the result of fiddling around.....

Home little sweet home. And in the middle of the giant city, a small piece of peace.

A reminder to myself: On rough days when I feel lost, rudderless, overwhelmed or without direction, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through tough times is 100% so far. And that’s pretty darn good in the scheme of things.

Sometimes I like to add tape for color.

Waddle Dee fan art time!

Whales, a good book or two and their robot friends…

Into surreal lands we go again…

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/

Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character. With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer. Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.

A right mixture as always!

Post London / Stray Kids gig reflection time… Never thought I’d be gushing about those guys through my art, but who cares? Here’s a band who knows how to put on a good show! Amazing stuff :-)

The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table. We traced them. Pushed them. Held them. Then we let the colors lead: -Red for emotion. -Yellow for curiosity. -Blue for memory. Each color came with music, with story, with space. At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence. Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.

Years ago, while digging through old journals and sketches, I stumbled across a quick, scribbled drawing of two pears. Beneath it, I'd written a raw and honest note: "Ann is pissed. I think it's because she's uncertain about me, us, life itself. She just ran into my car with the van. She says it was an accident, but she seems happier now—almost like it was cathartic. . . Like sex." At the time, I scribbled this in frustration, feeling a deep disconnect between us. Intimacy had become a confusing and distant concept in our relationship. The pears I'd sketched were rough and scratchy, charged with my chaotic feelings. Looking back, I see how emotions can drive us to strange actions, some intentional, some accidental, often leaving us oddly relieved afterward. Humans are complex, fascinating beings, navigating messy emotions and messy relationships, sometimes colliding intentionally or unintentionally, seeking relief in unexpected ways. Perhaps the pears were my subconscious pun on "pair," reflecting the awkward, confusing way Ann and I were bumping through life together—making messes, but occasionally finding strange humor and genuine catharsis in the chaos. I've learned to smile gently at the rawness of our humanity, appreciating even our scratchy sketches and emotional collisions. They're reminders that life, relationships, and our own hearts are never simple, but they're authentically human. Here's to embracing life's unexpected catharsis and finding humor in our imperfections.

My painting professor drew this diagram on the board and suggested that it is a diagram for a painting. "Begin with large areas, covering the canvas with general colors and shapes. Refine the shapes and begin adding details. Refine the details and work with smaller brushes. When you are adding marks that your viewers would not notice, be done." There is more, but that is enough to ponder for now.

“By all means grow old, but don’t mature. Remain childlike, retain wonder, the ability to be flabbergasted by something.” - Billy Connolly. Happy new year Doodle addicts!

And that ends another sketchbook!