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.
A dense cluster of geometric buildings sits beside the phrase "Offline is the New Rich" highlighting a contrast between urban and online life, and simplicity. To the right, a small house stands alone surrounded by trees and clouds.
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.
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.
With the Fauzie Stencil, we honor our Mother Earth. Let this geometric henna design remind you that you are connected with Mother. #hennastencil #hennatattoo #hennadesign #henna
This black and white piece adds definition to the walls of office space, the clean and composed look of the work renders great vision. It contains a collection of geometric shapes to provide meaning to your office walls of the office. Painting for office walls, black and white paint, acrylic painting for walls, geometric painting. #acrylicpainting #blackpainting #acrylicart
Monologues is an acrylic abstract painting in black and white. It is the best example of a monotone painting for the office. This simple yet sophisticated painting exactly teaches you one thing about colors-that is their oneness. Unity in strength is oneness. Perfect for all white and black themes for your living room decor. acrylic abstract painting. abstract painting, abstract black & white art, monotone painting acrylic. #paintingforoffice #acrylicabstractart #acrylicabstractpainting
It is a small 40 x 40 inches Canvas Painting for Office. My beautiful original acrylic painting "The Vision", is a monotone abstract triptych painting. This painting has quite a lot of shapes that you can see in the photos. Original abstract triptych painting, monotone painting on canvas, monotone art painting, large triptych abstract, large abstract art triptych, large contemporary monotone painting original, inspirational large canvas, triptych monotone painting, colorful triptych large original
"Whirlwind 28”, 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 28th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 28, 2020.
