Fobbles used to be afraid of pumpkins, until he learned that you can carve faces and other shapes into said gourds to make jack-o-lanterns. And thus, he now raises pumpkins for a living.
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 really struggle with the sumo wrestler pose. Difficult perspective and proportion as the body should lean forward. Difficult volume as a sumo wrestler is some kind of maximal volume of a body. Difficult balance in crouch position.
Hii there!:) In the last few weeks i noticed, that sometimes when i started drawing there where insecurities that came up. Like: it is not good enough etc. Then I reminded myself that everyone can have that feeling when it comes to creating something that is important to them. Maybe when somebody writes a new song or edits a video they made etc. So I started drawing Talun. There is alot of aspects he is proud of and others that he feels insecure about. He reminds me, that it is natural to have some doubts or just insecurities. Talun wishes you a wonderful day! And of course, me too!
