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"Billy gets there last, wiggles up a spot..." from the Graham's Up the Tree book. I grew to love these kids after drawing them so much. They sort of became real to me.

"Her cricket kids traipse in to wash their hands." Cricket is a popular bat-and-ball game in Australia where the winning team gets to eat crickets at the end of a match.

Lindsey's prompt: Herb Planter

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.

Against the weight of a storm-dark sky, tender stems lean forward—some bending, some breaking, some still reaching. They hold their fire at the tips, waiting to bloom, waiting to burn, waiting to belong to light. Perhaps this is all of us: stretching through shadows, searching for the thin, golden line that divides earth from eternity.

To draw is to notice. To notice is to pause. And sometimes, all it takes is a barefoot boy in a camping chair, chasing the drips of a popsicle, to remind us what it means to be here. This is Popsiclence—a sacred kind of focus. It’s where observational drawing leads us: out of the swirl, into the now. And in that now, we heal.

Years ago, I sketched Gibby at work—pencil in hand, bold strokes alive with motion. I caught them from over the shoulder: just the back of their head, the soft curve of their face, and that focused arm bringing something into being. They were 9 or 10 then, already showing the spark of creativity and concentration that pointed toward who they’d become. Now in their mid-20s, Gibby is thoughtful, insightful—quick to listen, slow to speak, and wired to process the world with care. Their path has been remarkable: two degrees in 2.5 years, no debt. That didn’t happen by accident. It took grit, German immersion schooling, 16 college credits earned in high school, and testing out of 24 more once at university. That’s Gibby—quietly determined, resourceful, and steady. But their story isn’t just academic. Gibby’s always been gifted with their hands—drawn to set design, locksmithing, welding. Trades they wanted to pursue early on, and still feel pulled toward. They’re at a bike shop now. It’s not the dream, but it fits: their hands know how to build, repair, and reshape the world. There’s been frustration—maybe even anger—that we didn’t let them follow the trade route right away. I get that now. Life veers, and sometimes the path chosen isn't the one imagined. But Gibby’s resilience—their ability to adapt and press on—is what I admire most. They’ve embraced their journey with honesty, stepping into their identity as a they/them person, unafraid to define success in their own terms. That takes courage. I’m proud of them—not for a résumé, but for who they are. This old drawing isn’t just a memory—it’s a thread connecting past to present. A reminder that the creative spark, the steady hands, the deep soul I saw back then is still shining. So here’s to you, Gibby: the kid who sketched with fire and the adult who still shapes the world with quiet brilliance. Your value has never been about the path you’re on. It’s about the person you are. And I’ll be here, cheering you on—every step of the way.

Lindsey and I recently went on a date night while on vacation in Florida. Fantasy and reality are two very different things. I also figured this was a great way to introduce DAT (Die Alone Together) Comics. I will hopefully upload a new strip every week. I hope you enjoy it!

Lindsey's prompt: Thor

Lino cut print over pastel. The story goes: The bird fell in love with the whale the first time she saw him break through the ocean’s surface, sunlight dancing on his back. From high above, she sang to him, and deep below, he answered with a song as old as the tides. She longed to dive, to join him in the rolling blue. He wished to rise, to fly beside her in the endless sky. But air and water would not trade places. So each day, at dawn and dusk, they met at the edge of their worlds—she on the wind, he in the waves—singing a love song carried by the breeze and the tide, never together but never apart.

Old one-part of my attempt to get published. I think it’s hilarious but sadly others do not!

And that closes another book of drawings! New one to follow soon…

Such a cutie. I Finished another watercolor course.

As I reflect on my past experiences, I am accutely aware of how often I have spoken from opinion rather than from experience. I have made mistakes. This makes me think of the Mark Twain quote -"Good judgement comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgement." Let's go out and get some experience, shall we?

Another one of these tiny canvas doodles. I stenciled out the eyes and teeth and used acrylic makers to color. Then finished up with a brush pen. These are a fun challenge

My painting professor drew this diagram on the board and suggested that it is a diagram for a painting. "Begin with large areas, covering the canvas with general colors and shapes. Refine the shapes and begin adding details. Refine the details and work with smaller brushes. When you are adding marks that your viewers would not notice, be done." There is more, but that is enough to ponder for now.

Tonight, I’m getting ideas from Lando Calrissian and all things Star Wars… :-)

The panther is alert sensing that something approaches, itś not sure what but she is ready.

Color Pencil over Gesture. It was a contemplative day in the art classroom. Students were drawing self portraits and I had time to join them. Our discussion was on 'Reflection'. The image we see of ourselves in the mirror is not what people see when they look at us. They see the reverse. The mole on my cheek is on the other side of my face, if you were to look at me in person. This leads to discussions of perception and reality. It can be fun and humbling. We cannot live only by sight. We must have a faith of some sort. This reminds me of the Michael Feldman Public Radio Program called: "Whad'Ya Know?" It opens with the audience shouting: "Whad'd Ya Know?" and Michael replying: "Not Much! You?". We do not know much, I think, as much as we like to pretend that we think we do.

In dreams I write... I expand... I glow

I take pride in experimenting with different photo exposures to bring out new dimensions in my creations. My work never feels complete, as there's always more room for exploration. I invite you to view my upcoming uploads from all angles as I bring them to life through my artistic expressions, such as dance, writing, or meditation.

Another experience with beaten metals

Sharks out on a space walk… or just another Tuesday in Bleu’s world.

So, my sister asked if I would draw her unborn baby as a movie monster to hang in the nursery. She loves the Thing from 1982. This is what I delivered. Apparently, I went a little too disturbing for a baby's room haha gonna have to go another route. The small photo is from her ultrasound

Another moody landscape. I wanted to work on water and light while using digital pastels. This is not AI nor is any part of this AI.

Someone close to me is homesick for Brazil so I painted and printed this for them. I wanted the comp to be simple and its intentions obvious. I had fun with the hills and atmospheric perspective. This is not AI nor is any part of this AI.

For a long time, I always misheard the lyrics in the song ‘Torn Green Velvet Eyes’ by The Magnetic Fields as ‘Tom Green Velvet Eyes’… told myself that one day I’d draw something inspired by this mishearing of things and well, here you go!