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.
Following the daily painting challenge with Lisa Congdon over at CreativeBug though I haven't quite managed to keep up daily. Still, it's wonderful picking the brush up again and splashing around with paint!
I always tell students to start a project with quick sketches to develop a shape language. Plus research, then you can start to generate ideas. This is one of who knows how many small sketches I'll do to start this project. #ideation #designsketches #pilo
This is the the Icelandic parliament house in Reykjavik Iceland.
Usually I don´t draw houses, I am more into faces, but have always wanted to draw houses though and enjoy watching them. This house has always been one of my favourite.
Pen and pencil tattoo design of my lucky cat, Ariel. This drawing was inspired by maneki-neko cats, neo-traditional tattoo style, anime styles, and my love for my Ariel.
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.
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.
