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The god of Hindus lordshiva with halfface and half Trishula mandala design. Lord shiva also known as bolenath, eshawara, Parvathi pathi and other names.

This is part of an ongoing series. This time we pass through The Great Exhibition and meet the different characters there to view art or just to socialise and hang out.

Over the course of a few months, I got to work with Good Karma For All on what you might consider a "passion project". The job consisted of freehand painting murals on every single (large) wall and hand-lettering inspirational quotes all over the inside and outside of the building.

Acrylic on Canvas, a gift I made many years ago.

My favorite way to eliminate the often paralyzing fear of "ruining" "good" paper is to just paint on any and all junk mail that comes into my house. Higher end catalogs are great for this, they don't use slick, thin paper (and even that gets used in collage or as a desk cover for other projects) and they're already bound for you. Just add marks! Carry it with you. Scan the pages you like. Cut it up later for making other art. It's "just" junk mail, so there is literally no pressure. I have HUNDREDS of these type of things and I run across them all the time, forgotten, in some old backpack or purse or drawer and it's a treasure to look through them again, and add new marks, paints and words.

Any time is a good time for Tasty Food Truck! Ink & Watercolor on 5"x5" Arches cold press.

Wear a mask. Stay inside!

Playing with colored inks at fountain pen

Let me Skull your thoughts

Bit more on this one...still not sure if it's going to work!

Did you ever have a page in your sketchbook that was so bad and so embarrassing that you tore it out and chucked it? This was one of those pages that made me cringed every time I came to it. So today I said to myself, "ENOUGH!" and ripped it out of my moleskine. But something wouldn't let me throw it in the can. Now, I'm not one of those artists that can't bring himself to throw away any of his stuff because each and every piece, good or bad holds some kind of sentimentality or sense of importance. This particular page was a result of a crappy angst filled day and stuff poured out of me. For some reason, it felt like I was throwing away some piece of my soul. There were parts that were overworked and others that were painfully too personal. So I decided to cut it up and put it back together in no particular order, however it seemed best. As I was pasting the pieces down it occurred to me that this had a comic book feel so I scanned the final and added the black borders in photoshop which I really dug. I like that it is cryptic and jumbled up like my brain can so often be. This reminded me of the awesome @johnhendrix who said something in his book, Drawing Is Magic that stuck with me. He said, "Don't worry about doing anything wrong. If you're hoping your sketchbook turns into a glossy display of only your best drawings, you are not carrying a sketchbook, you are carrying a portfolio." In other words, explore, take chances, loosen up and have fun. Try your best to go at it like an uninhibited child. In so doing, you will stretch as an artist by avoiding repetition and predictability. We all know how to do what we already know. To sum up, I created a bad page, and whether or not I was able to fix it, it expanded me. So, follow your pencil, pen, or whatever and let them take you to places you never imagined when you started. Then, maybe you will end up staring happily at the final and with childlike wonder, say, "man, where did that come from?"

Everybody's Searching For A Place To Belong

THE LITTLE OLD WOMAN WITH FIVE COWS From Favorite Folktales from Around the World by Jane Yolen. One morning a little old woman got up and went to the field containing her five cows. She took from the earth a herb with five sprouts and, without breaking either root or branch, carried it home and wrapped it in a blanket and placed it on her pillow. Then she went out again and sat down to milk her cows. Suddenly she heard tambourine bells jingle and scissors fall, on account of which noise she upset the milk. Having run home and looked, she found that the plant was uninjured. Again she issued forth to milk the cows, and again thought she heard the tambourine bells jingle and scissors fall, and once more she spilled her milk. https://www.instagram.com/p/CnnCvkZpxW0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

pen and gouache on paper towel

Here is one of 3 illustrations I made for customizable postcards, available for purchase at @cava.galeria I wanted to make another silly #goose with a fun #hat

drawing made in sketchbook inspired by the movie 'first cow'

It's crazy to think that 6 years have already flown by since I first moved onto the Xcel gymnastics team, let alone the fact that I've spent 15 years of my life as a gymnast. Tomorrow, August 6th, 2021, marks my last day as a gymnast on the team since I'm officially a college student. I've genuinely been dreading this day, but it's not the ending I expected...in an oddly good way. I know no one expected to spend the past year in a pandemic, and I definitely didn't think gym would shift so much in the following months, but here we are. Gymnastics has taught me more than I ever imagined it could, and my coaches (especially one of them) have become two of the people I'm closest with, words can't describe how grateful I am for everything. This 'ending' doesn't feel like an end, more so a closing to this chapter. Honestly, my love for the sport has only grown, and it feels like I'm finally figuring it all out. So, although my final practice as a team member is tomorrow, my journey is not over yet. "Goodbyes are the hardest part, and this ending has been something I’ve been dreading, although I know it’s time to let go. I’d like to say this isn’t a permanent goodbye to you or the sport, it’s more of a natural conclusion. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you’ve done for me and managed to teach me in this short amount of time, I couldn’t have asked for anyone, or anything, better. Thank you most of all for helping me achieve my dreams and for helping me get to a point in which I can say I’m proud of my journey. All that’s left to say is I care about you, I love you, and take care."

Watermelon dream

It’s been raining all day so I felt like taking a party wagon to the beach and catching some good vibes! This is based on a 1960 Volkswagen Transporter.

I don’t know if we are supposed to do coloring sheet, watercolor books etc. But this is one I did a long time ago that I am very proud of!

Things have been so busy of late and my output has greatly reduced. However, I have returned to oil painting. I revisited this piece I started last year and put in a few more hours to finish it. The scene was from a few summers ago when I visited Pen Arthur forest for the first time. The piece takes me right back to that day when the late summer afternoon sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy.

hey there☘️ while taking a walk in the forest i came across a little treehouse. it inspired me to draw this one. i love to look at the stars at night and drawing this reminds me of the times where i looked at the beautiful night sky in france some years ago.✨ have a lovely day :)

Kangaroos, wallabies, and emus at the zoo with my Sharon Art Studio friend. So nice to create together again! This was from November, when the SF Zoo was still open. I'm really grateful we were able to go several times before it closed again.

Camden, Maine. Getting back into making personal art after working on a huge commission these past few months.

Made with pen, ink pencil and gel pen. Started off as a quick sketch to loosen the cobwebs but turned into a piece that I dived into and developed more of my own style.

It's a type of Gobbin '

Pls vote thanks

Seagull studies

Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.