New sketchbook time again? That it is. Credit to one of my workmates for inspiring the title here, hehehehe. It's been a busy few days here at Bleu HQ... '^^ :-)
Kierkegaard said we undersand life by looking back, but we must live life forward. On a trip to the Chicago Art Institute with a group of students, I penned the students behind me and then I penned the rapidly moving images I saw through the front window of the bus . I still do not understand life except that perhaps it is full of energy and art and love.
Sometimes, a good goodbye is also a fresh hello.
As we wrapped up our "Sacred Spaces" paintings, I asked our student teacher to design a one-day project—something playful, earthy, and engaging to ease the class into her care. She brought mud. Literally.
Using mud and simple stencils, students pressed images—flowers, insects, wings—onto the sidewalk behind our school. There's something timeless about making marks with the ground itself. It felt ancient and immediate at the same time.
These prints won’t last long, but maybe that’s the point. A fleeting image, a shared laugh, a new hand guiding the next phase of learning.
Art is about making marks. Not all of them need to be permanent.
Behold the Chair
(inspired by Wendell Berry)
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
The chair does not strive.
It does not speak loudly.
It simply is—
ready to receive,
to hold what comes,
to honor the silence.
This drawing does not shout.
It listens.
It does not disturb the quiet—
it joins it.
Like a prayer whispered
to the One who listens back,
this mark is a presence,
not a performance.
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.
Rainy days = a perfect excuse for a shedload of coffee and drawing to indulge in. :)
Occurs to me I did one with the title “Laurel Weaver” close to four years ago. Not much else connects the two beyond the title or does it? I don’t know...
Whatever the case, I fancied recycling and revisiting this idea somehow. Enjoy!
So Mum goes for the phone and these guys slip out the door to see what Graham is doing up in the tree... I can't believe they'd just leave their food behind like that. I mean... look at it. Mmm.
New sketchbook time already? Seems like it!
Kicking off the new volume “Digital Analog Native” with some Tails fan art, because that’s how we do it :-)
Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence
This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete.
But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains.
When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing.
So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal?
Perhaps presence itself is the real art.
