(2B pencil on 137mm x 125mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
In this memory-driven piece, Patmore reconstructs the bathroom from his third-grade elementary school, capturing the sterile brightness, the tiled repetition, and the institutional reminder to “WASH YOUR HANDS.”
But the scene is not pristine — a leaky sink, an out-of-order stall, and a taped-up sign reveal the quiet decay behind childhood places we assume were orderly and safe.
Patmore blends nostalgia with unease, transforming a simple restroom into a study of what it means to grow up: how the lessons we learn early (“hygiene,” discipline, responsibility) stay with us even after the walls begin to crack. The small pop of blue tape emphasizes the DIY fragility of rules meant to guide us.
This piece stands at the intersection of memory and maintenance — of spaces, of bodies, and of ourselves.
An exuberant, almost psychedelic take on a magical mushroom. The bright chartreuse cap is adorned with striking magenta spots that pop against a textured, almost chaotic background. The bold, black outline gives the subject a playful, cartoon-like presence, while the energetic brushwork suggests movement and a sense of wonder. Signed and dated by Ty Patmore, 2025.
(2B pencil on 141mm x 118mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
(2B Pencil on 135mm x 140mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
Hello dear listeners! Sit back and listen to the new collection of souls. Let the broadcast...begin. I think this was one of my best and took me hours to complete.
私のパトレオンで利用可能な印刷可能で着色デザイン | Printable and coloring design available on my Patreon | Diseño imprimible y para colorear disponible en mi Patreón: https://www.patreon.com/posts/itazurashu-ki-135036853
If time cost flesh
If life is boundless
Then where will my hours take me
I want with desires
I wish like a liar
Chasing the rabbit timidly
When im asleep
My dreams are whats deep
I drown in seas of maybes
How do i rise
How do i reach skies
When emotions and plans limit me
I grovel an weep
Cause i put dreams out of reach
But i want to engage the maybes
So instead of the plots
And sitting on thoughts
Its time to embrace the daydreams
I wont cower to dreams
I’ll capture a scheme
And nurture the life of maybes -#embracingnightmares
I recently remembered hearing stories and seeing games showing the Devil trapped in ice in some way. It seemed so cool I decided to try it out.
I'll admit that this form of the Devil is not the coolest or most intimidating, but I think it works. Kind of like the Anti-Christ sort of look.
What do you guys think?
Trumpty Dumpty sits on the last few shipping containers weeping and wailing as a towing company, called We Remove The Wall, tows the shipping containers away.
