I've burned through 6 weeks straight of non-stop drawing. I think it means I'm healing up from a painful relationship I needed to end. Sometimes we attract someone due to a perceived chemistry. Then one day we wake up and realize that chemistry is acid and this isn't actually love. This is a distortion. And I don't need to walk through this pain anymore. I've actually grown enough to recognize that being alone, without pain, is a thousand times better than being with someone who refuses to recognize their behavior. Some people have no idea that words can do much more damage than a weapon. Words can kill. If you can't control your tongue, then don't speak. Make this a rule for your life if you care for someone.
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.
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.
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.
Three trunks rising from one root, steady and separate yet belonging. The little bush at their base reminds me that life gathers in layers—quiet companions at the feet of giants. A simple contour line holds it all, the way a moment holds both strength and tenderness.
Narwhal flavours, washi tape as always and a cheeky Cymera sticker to start my current sketchbook… this one entitled “All Fishes Are Weird”.
One way to kill time during delays getting back home on the train back from London yesterday!
