Imagine trading your soft bed for a deflating mattress.
Imagine food cooked under ash, a fire that smokes more than it warms.
Imagine waking at dawn with stiff muscles, yet finding yourself strangely alive.
This sketch is not just about tents, cars, and campfires.
It is about the in-between—where inconvenience and beauty wrestle, and something deeper sneaks in.
Camping reminds me: comfort is overrated, but presence is priceless.
Color Pencil over Gesture. It was a contemplative day in the art classroom. Students were drawing self portraits and I had time to join them. Our discussion was on 'Reflection'. The image we see of ourselves in the mirror is not what people see when they look at us. They see the reverse. The mole on my cheek is on the other side of my face, if you were to look at me in person. This leads to discussions of perception and reality. It can be fun and humbling. We cannot live only by sight. We must have a faith of some sort. This reminds me of the Michael Feldman Public Radio Program called: "Whad'Ya Know?" It opens with the audience shouting: "Whad'd Ya Know?" and Michael replying: "Not Much! You?". We do not know much, I think, as much as we like to pretend that we think we do.
Part of my challenge to myself to sketch directly in ink this month, and to play around with using alcohol markers for value (a new tool in my arsenal).
For a long time, I always misheard the lyrics in the song ‘Torn Green Velvet Eyes’ by The Magnetic Fields as ‘Tom Green Velvet Eyes’… told myself that one day I’d draw something inspired by this mishearing of things and well, here you go!
Im Kurt and new to Doodle Addicts. Loneliness and anxiety dominate my life and are reoccurring themes in my art. It wasn't until recently, after countless jobs, countless attempts, and thousands of dollars in school debt, that I realized it is what it is. At this point, I am trying to learn how to express myself through art and build a community without the pain from before. Negative or positive, I hope you feel something and will like or comment. #MentalHealth #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #ItWillGetBetter
Whenever I’m channel surfing, I often find myself stumbling into a film midway through it’s running time, and tend to stick around if there’s elements that pique my curiosity and just catch my eye etc. My Girl 2, of all films, was one of them this time around.
A line about “barbaric customs” or roundabouts prompted me to pick up my drawing kit...and here we are!
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.
Phew! What a fortnight it's been here. Been engaging more in my photography as of late, but the day-job's had me on 'go' mode all Easter quite frankly. Thank the maker for those moments to yourself when you can just.. well, indulge really.
Something warm coloured for the incoming spring. Also befitting of the feelings a lot of folks in my life (and myself included) seem to be feeling right now! Much cobweb detangling figuratively speaking this month past, that much is true...
The kids jump, and call, and send koo wees up to the koo wee sky! When I draw happy characters like this I find myself smiling and I don't even realize it. I hope that happiness comes through in the art. - From "Graham's Up the Tree"
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.
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.
