ear

So after 4 years I try again colored oilpainting..

To be perfectly honest, the latest lockdown announcement here in Scotland was bound to influence my art in some form or another... Needless to say this is going to be one looooong winter, one that’ll have me blasting “Here Comes The Sun” by The Beatles once it ends, or at the very least stabilises.

I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."

Last month, on Artefact Challenge, I was the one choosing the theme. After what I got them, I think it'll be the last XD These were two characters meant for Okhong, for an eventual PONIES event, so I keep them for myself. To the left, Fi, the unicorn centaur, on the right, Tak, the draft-horse centaur. One of them is a mean killing machine, and it's not the draft-horse. Fi: What did you say about my WIFE? Tak: Dear: No. --- Le mois dernier, pour Artefact, c’était moi qui devait choisir le thème… Je me demande si ce sera pas la dernière vu ce que je leur ai sorti XD Il s’agissait de deux personnages que je voulais sortir pour un éventuel évent PONIES d’Okhong, du coup, je les ais gardé pour moi. A gauche, Fi le licorne centaure, à droite, Tak, la percheronne centaure. L’un des deux est une machine à tuer, et c’est pas la percheronne. Fi: Qu'est ce que tu viens de dire sur ma FEMME? Tak: Chéri: Non.

This creature lays it's eegs near cliffs to the sea. The eggs roll into the water and for about 7 days the sea will be quiet. When they hatch it storms. The Alkonost is in general friendly towards mankind.

"This time, there was no other reality." ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Dealing with Blue, a young adult romance.

And so ends another sketchbook, and just in time to break in the new year! Happy new year folks :-)

Playing around with anagram generators for inspiration this time around, as you do.

April has truly started off on a high note: 3 days of warm weather (a rare occurrence in an early Chicago spring), I finally did double-backs to the floor at gymnastics, found out I won a few art contests, and I got my first COVID vaccine! It's nice to have things starting to work out, even if it is just temporarily.

As a professional energy healer, I listen to guided meditations most days. This is a phrase from one of my favorite meditations.

I asked 13 Indian young adults, suffering from a mental health issue, what words do they wish to never hear again with respect to their mental health problem.These responses are words spoken by their colleagues, friends, or family members at some point or the other.

Colorful Santa Hat

13 SEP 2023

too simple of a titled, what are you thinking, its basically taken about ten times already ! Okay, just relax, I don't have a real title for it , if it could be UNTITLED , I'd do that in a heartbeat .

Will she say yes to his heart? I think so...

Reflecting on the current pandemic, only to realise things this time last year gave plenty of us something to gripe about too... How times seemed simpler then.

Looks like one of the magic spells Bobby casted, made a new friend appear. Albeit unannounced.

New year, similar kind of tricks. Hope it’s treating you all well so far!

Marginalias' character are starting to flesh out, even if I still don't have a story. These two are the princess (Who still doesn't have a name. Diana maybe?) a peryton and Ancelade, an atlas lion. They met when they were kid ( 9-10 for Ancelade, about fifteen for the princess). Ancelade was brought back from a war campaign by an old veteran knight who more or less adopted him and the Princess, when meeting a dirty, shivering lion cub, took him under her wing right away (quite literally, he used to fit under her wing, not anymore). (The joke, every time this episode is mentioned, is that Ancelade's adoptive father, while already having fathered children, had no idea how to care for a child and probably thought they were self cleaning). Once Ancelade properly cleaned up, the Princess discovered he was blond AND fluffy. Ten years later, she is still the only one allowed to touch his mane. Each think of the other as the brother or sister they don't have anymore. Even if everyone always ask them the same old question to which they answer in a mature and articulated way: Are you lovers?

These are the results from a request to create a piece based on a fathers son's nicknames. The older brother is the moon, second the bear, third the bird. Added the stars as the parents. His first request was of a tattoo of sorts ...but I struggled and my drawings kept turning into children illustrations. I so enjoyed the challenge and it gave me an opportunity to honor the love of family. At the same time, it was hard to associate them into a tattoo:) .

Watercolour crayon, crayon, fineliner and acrylic paint.. . . . . ... . .... . ... . . . ... . . .. . . . . . . Just your run of the mill tree bearing owl with a pipe in hand and a story to tell. .... . . .. . . . . .. . . . . .. ... ... ......... ... .. A3 prints for sale ( 12 left out of 20 at the time of going to press )

So I just finished “the fault in our stars” by John green and it is very sad. It involves death and there is a song called when am I going to lose you by local natives. Both of them at the same time was overwhelming and It brought up the question, when am I gonna lose the ones I love so dearly?

I laid down the initial layer of this large piece in pencil about a year ago and finally returned to it this weekend to add accents in ink.

Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.

As another Wednesday winds down, my creativity has other ideas...