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"
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.
Not a beautiful work of art I know. I hope I paint better. But 70 hours of my life made from materials and techniques utilized by those who crossed our nation in covered wagons. I made this for the Episcopal Church in Prestonsberg. The bishop is retiring and 36 Churches in Eastern Kentucky are all making quilt squares for a quilt for him. The material is doubled so it insulates well.
When your creative pals are clearing out Pokemon plushies and know your own collecting habit all too well, hehehe! Needless to say the Glaceon I’ve adopted will be well looked after :-)
This work is purposely incomplete. I will facilitate a group of people who will color in the black and white template as well as have the option of making their own art freehand. Individual and couple contributions will be combined to make our composite mural. People who participate in this event will thus listen and speak while creating artwork for the mural. For my part I will explain the latest research concerning the hormones involved in the physiology and neurology of falling in love and remaining in love
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 :-)
Inspired by a turn of phrase my girlfriend used to describe certain ex-friends of ours who got lost to conspiracy theories and generally problematic attitudes. Needless to say they’re haunted by all kinds of ghosts, wherever these people are!
One of my biggest supporters and best friend passed away recently. My Grammy. My Grandpa has been gone almost 10 years now. So, in real life, whenever a blue butterfly showed up it was Grandpa coming to check on Grammy. Now, she's a butterfly going to be with him.
The inevitable Labubu fan art has arrived!
I mean, I see so many of them here in Edinburgh and my folks (knowing full well my plushie habit) just so happened to pick one up for me as a gift en route back from their Cyprus trip. Can’t complain obviously, he’s a very good boy! :-)
Relaxed tension. Two parents at a national chess competition. Their kids squared off at the board, and so did they — one leaning back, shoe propped up, trying for calm; the other sitting stiff, watchful. The game played out in more ways than one.
The meal was my attempt to bring a little comfort into the rugged outdoors. The sketch was my reminder—to hold onto the moment, even when mosquitoes, ashes, and deflating air mattresses had other plans.
The lake was busy with light, the grasses busy with wind, but the boat sat quiet against the shore. There is a gift in this tension: to be held still while everything moves, to be carried without effort, to find rest in the very heart of motion.
Super Nationals at the Gaylord—two rivers running through the lobby, actual boats gliding under glass ceilings, a nature center tucked between restaurants. Noise everywhere: kids, clocks, pawns and queens. Yet here, in the middle of it, a pause. A man leans back with the weight of waiting. A woman sits, at ease but still seeking. An empty chair remembers everyone who has rested there. In a place built to dazzle, what lingered with me was not the spectacle, but the silence. To draw is to honor the quiet within the clamor.
thinking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
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.
