I am an art teacher with a master’s degree—trained by brilliant professors who believed that art could do more than decorate walls. I offer safe spaces for teenagers to grow—nourishing soil where their imaginations can take root.
And yet… I am assigned to hallway duty.
This is compulsory education, after all.
So I sit—posted like a sentinel—watching young lives stream past.
“Get to class,” I say with a smile and a nudge.
The system wants attendance; I’m hungry for presence.
Armed not with a whistle or clipboard, but with a pen—
my scribble’s soft insurgency.
The hallway stretches out like a geometric hymn.
Columns and corners chant structure.
Teenagers swirl past—half-formed galaxies of limbs and laughter—
their orbits chaotic, their gravity pulling time forward.
I begin to draw.
Not their tardiness, but their motion.
A shoulder. A blur of sneakers.
A tilted head chasing freedom.
Feet flickering like seconds.
Each mark a pulse.
Each smudge a breath.
My paper becomes a seismograph of seeing—
trembling gently through the mundane.
This isn’t about making art for a frame or a feed.
It’s about refusing to leak away in the fluorescent hum of obligation.
It’s a quiet mutiny against the clock.
I do this on long car rides, too (passenger side, mind you).
Letting the lines grow wild, jagged, and unapologetic.
Not for polish—
but for presence.
This is how I remember I’m still alive.
Still growing.
Still watching.
Still choosing to see.
Because sometimes mental health looks like
a piece of scrap paper,
a moving pen,
and the simple, sacred act of
marking time with wonder.
"Whirlwind 20”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 4” x 6”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 20th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 20, 2020.
"Whirlwind 17”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 4” x 6”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 17th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 17, 2020.
"Whirlwind 15”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 4” x 6”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 15th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 15, 2020.
“Whirlwind 8”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 5” x 7”. Title, signature and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 8th in a series of drawings that were posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 8, 2020.
Geometric pen drawing detailed with stippling. What started out as a simple mountain doodle turned out to be a bit more chaotic than I'd anticipated but I like the end result!
A vibrant assortment of rainbow watermelon slices is arranged on a wooden serving board, featuring colorful triangular and round shapes. The contrasting colors against the neutral background create a lively and appetizing display.
This painting is based on an empty street at noon, when the sun is right above us scorching heat. the street look empty looking for a shade. I chose to show the street at 2pm where the sun slightly leans towards down.
The whole painting is done on parallel lines. If you notice closely the lines of building and the road meet parallelly.
"Whirlwind 25”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 5” x 7”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 25th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 25, 2020.
"Whirlwind 21”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 5” x 7”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 21st in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 21, 2020.
“Whirlwind 12”, an original drawing. Size: 5” x 7”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 12th in a series of drawings to be posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 12, 2020.
Sketchbook page from a few days ago. One of my rules for this sketchbook is that all entries have to be full page spreads of intricate drawing studies. All drawn freehand! Drawin’ err day over here!
