Living, breathing, and creating with nature
When you wake up to the gentle sights and sounds of the pond, trees, plants, birds, bees, and dragonflies, inspiration flows effortlessly. So, when the owner asked for a menu design for @SarayaGoa Art Café, I thought—why not let nature speak for itself?
Using pen and ink, I captured the beauty of my mornings here—each stroke reflecting the lush surroundings that make Saraya unique. Instead of focusing on just food items, I filled the cover and inside pages with illustrations of the vibrant life around us. Dining here means eating among the green, surrounded by the diverse plants of our permaculture gardens.
This study is a tribute to the beauty that shapes every meal at Saraya.
I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."
Yet another senseless lynching that has me here with a broken heart. Like my other paintings on this subject, I wanted to focus on life. Tyre was dynamic and energetic, so I wanted to paint him soring. I also wanted to paint him defiant in the face of his oppressors. He was a skater, and they are no strangers to defiance. Thankfully, I found some excellent references to help me with the composition. Aesthetically, I wanted the comp to be modern, colorful, and hopefully impactful. I went for a pop art, illustration, and false-color vibe and minimized blending and refining layer edges. I painted this in Rebelle 6 and Photoshop. Much respect.
butterflies # ????? : two holly blues. This was a hard one and worthy of an art block
with top and bottom wings distinguishing the species, composition and pose was almost impossible. Cue two of the Holly Blues! :)
A mason jar filled with glowing fireflies casts a warm, bright light. The playful arrangement of the fireflies creates a whimsical and enchanting effect.
Okay, try not to focus on those ears... Try to appreciate the nice background and even the dragonflies flying around. Anything. But. The ears.
But, my gosh, how adorable! Look at the way he wiggles his ears! How adorable! Isn’t it illegal to be this cute? It makes you want to pick it up and hug it to bits!
Posted the sketch of this earlier, but I thought the ink looked nicer, so here you are! I love dragonflies. Deadly hunters, slaughtering their prey without mercy, yet beguiling enough to somehow convince humans they are harmless as butterflies. They have their own sort of deadly, sleek beauty.
An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
This is Digital Fairy, an OC of mine. She is 100% robotic, has a burnt receptor because of an incident and also has the power to create butterflies, so she doesn't feel alone.
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.
When i was younger & used to wear bright , colourful frocks , i always saw butterflies around me & i wanted to catch them. Growing gradually, now , i realised that the real joy of seeing a butterfly is not by catching it , rather to let it free & embrace the natural beauty.
