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.
This is an acrylic painting that I made for someone I was close to. We would often take turns of one of us being overly affectionate and the other being playfully annoyed. I tried to capture this dynamic in the painting of these two owls. This painting was an experiment in portraying animals, something I don't do often, and using my paint knife as a tool in my paintings.
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.
Teaching painting is a great task to ask of a person who doesn't paint. I do not paint. I teach the manipulation of media through experience. "Learn from doing!" I say. Monochromatic pastel exercises help my students to get a handle on the media. We explore value and composition and the handling of media. Sometimes happy accidents occur. This was my example to the teens on composition and value. It is a journey.
Cont. to work on BnW illustrations, I wanted to focus on making the reflections have a realistic quality. I struggle with clouds, but I felt I was most refined here. My BnW's seem to have so much more life and expression than my paintings. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. I enjoyed this foray into digital mosaic (or fauxsaic as I've seen it called).
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. This one I limited myself to a 100 pixel x 100 pixel canvas.
My book Kimbop Was Born To Explore! Is now available on Amazon! Great for readers 7 and up but can be read to kids of all ages! 32 pages of illustrated fun! Explore with Kimbop! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09M4THLX5
Here's the final color illustration created for Osprey Pens featuring the Osprey Pen Factory. It was drawn with the same fountain pen there on the right... An Osprey Milano 5.5 Flexpert Hourglass nib. Great pen! Colored in Photoshop.
