My husband has a chronic illness and frequently spends weeks in the hospital. I have been doodling each day while sitting with him and many of them reflect my thoughts at the time. Often appearing are desperation, hope, frustration, sarcasm, fear.
My husband has a chronic illness and frequently spends weeks in the hospital. I have been doodling each day while sitting with him and many of them reflect my thoughts at the time. Often appearing are desperation, hope, frustration, sarcasm, fear.
My husband has a chronic illness and frequently spends weeks in the hospital. I have been doodling each day while sitting with him and many of them reflect my thoughts at the time. Often appearing are desperation, hope, frustration, sarcasm, fear.
Black fineliner on drawing paper. My daughters want to hear fairytales every night at the moment. So my head is filled with magical forests, small houses, magical flowers etc.
An intuitive mix of fluid watercolor gradients and intricate fineliner patterns, wrapped up in a golden border. A little bit biological, a little bit whimsical.
What do I have to so to make people fucking listen to me?! (c) Smart people problems.
I'm almost done first page of my comic, but got distracter by this my meme in my head.
A sketch recalling an era when smoking indoors after a meal was commonplace—a fleeting pause of stillness before continuing the journey ahead. Done with mechanical pencil on scrap printer paper.
This feather rests as a symbol of gentle guardianship. Light enough to drift, yet preserved with intention, it speaks to protection without restraint—something watched over, not controlled. It represents care that is quiet, constant, and strong precisely because it does not weigh anything down.
A moment suspended between departure and arrival. Interim explores transition—where movement pauses, direction is uncertain, and meaning exists in the waiting. Rendered with restraint and negative space, the piece invites reflection on the quiet spaces between what was and what will be.
A solitary rowboat drifts across a muted, restless surface, unanchored and unattended. Rendered in charcoal, ink, and subtle white highlights, the vessel exists in a quiet state of motion—moving, yet going nowhere. The surrounding water is suggested through loose, rhythmic lines, emphasizing atmosphere and isolation over realism.
The boat is sharply defined against the hazy background, its dark contours and interior shadows contrasting with the soft, unsettled environment. Oars rest unevenly, implying recent human presence while reinforcing absence. The name Perditas—Latin for “lost”—is affixed to the hull, anchoring the emotional weight of the piece without explanation.
This work explores themes of solitude, uncertainty, and endurance. With no shoreline or destination in sight, Perditas becomes a reflection on drifting—physically, mentally, and emotionally—inviting the viewer to confront their own sense of direction within an undefined space.
This is another dragon. They're the Bringer of Great Destiny, and basically tell you you're destined for good things. It was designed by my sibling, and this is a redesign I made. Sorry that it's hard to see. My camera is bad and my house is dark.
It's been a hot minute. I was taking myself too seriously until there was no fun in drawing left. So I had a break, then bought myself some chunky kids' markers and voilà!
