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It's always fun to come to the Art gallery of the assheads, marginal artists of the World of Fantasy. Today I have seen the picture you are looking at, it made me interesting, as more people worked on it, not considering the picture as a whole, nor the work of its predecessors. Then, out of a large cardboard box, an old man came out and came to me. There were two big holes in the box, so I realized that the guy was looking at me from the box for a while. - Do you like the picture? - he asked. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, staring at me. On the old clothes he wore on himself, there was a stain of color. - I was impressed with - I said cautiously, knowing the unpredictable nature of people who deal with art - Did you do it? His face was stretched into a smile, a few teeth that he had left, flashes from the mouth cavity. - Yes - proudly erect his chicken breast an old man - Inspiration wore me all the time! He looked at me with a look that required my other questions about the image, need to tell any story, to anyone, about his work, was in it taut like a catapult. - What inspired you? - I ask the old man, and he barely welcomed the question and said: - Last week I was visiting my friend Jergon, the King of the Dwarves. (His statement that the mighty King of the Dwarves his friend was so incredible, that it must have been true. Assheads usually have unusual life stories.) "It is well known to you that the dwarves appreciate their privacy, keep their place of residence confidential and may be ruthless if you disturb them. As a friend of Jergon, "the old man says," I have surely passed the territory of the dwarves. As I approached his home, I noticed more and more than the vicinity of his underground apartment - in the old roots - was edited by the gardening techniques of the dwarves. Dwarves worship their king and their nature makes them do something for him every day. For example, to clean the weed and planted rare plants and flowers around his house. Some day they polished the old root under which the King lives. So the environment of his house went out completely artificial, unnatural. The king is angry because he now has no privacy, his home has become like a public park, sweet hide, dear dwarves, was taken away from him. He told me. "Dear friend, if you think it's nice to be a king, you are not right. Everything has its own price." This visit inspired me to paint this work. - I nodding my head as if to understand how much potential was in that situation, so inspiration was a natural consequence. - Art freedom is expressed here - I said to the old man - maybe with the King of the Dwarves, on it, the picture was even more effective. The old asshead looked at me strictly and asked: - Did you see the King of the Dwarves? "I did not even see an ordinary dwarf," I admitted. The old man looked at me for a moment or two with a disappointed look, then he turned and entered the box. I felt a look from the box on my back as I left the gallery.

The freshness of morning withdrew in front of the warm rays of the sun. The Wizard of Cirilo Bum and I came to the High Meadow, one beautiful gazebo, where we planned to spend a day off. - Only those who work hard and get their work done, fully enjoy all the pleasure of a vacation - said the wizard Čirilo Bum. I did not answer him, my life plan was to work as little in life, for that reason, I have taught for the wizard at him. By the time we took the time to see the water that emerged from the earth, in the air she created a form of grapes and spirals of various colors that had disappeared in the unknown. The Ghosts of water had fun, trying to show each other their skills. We chose a place on the edge of the High Meadow for our accommodation, where we could watch the landscape: meadows and forests scattered to distant mountains of dark blue. Above us were an old, large yew tree as created to keep us from the strong sun and the negative energy. Below the meadow was stretched by which a dozen young dragons rode along and across, skillfully changed the direction of movement and twisted with their long bodies, they played hunting. Hidden in the crown of a large oak tree near us, pointed snake watched their game with their big green eyes, but I noticed that she quickly dropped into sleep. Then I remember that I did not do some important jobs yesterday, Čirilo Bum will definitely see it when we get home. It spoils my mood a bit, and I pulled out of the baskets a few of the dried sausages that the old wizard worked so well. Full stomach I always better mood. - There are rare opportunities to see the Big Redbeak - suddenly spoke Cirilo Bum - bird right now wants to snatch egg. I stared for a while around so Čirilo Bum says: I said Big. And indeed, I find him so big that several other creatures sought accommodation in his body. Cirilo Bum spent almost all day hovering in the crown of the old yew, napping with a satisfied look on his face. Every time I was constantly tortured by the fact that I would have to listen, a critic of the old wizard, when we come home because of my unsolved tasks. My nervousness I softened so that I ate all the food from the basket. Late in the afternoon, we went home, from the trees they began to descend some new, hitherto unseen beings in search for food or night hideout. Spirit of water was gone, but a good part of the way, perhaps from curiosity, we were followed by other inhabitants of the World of Fantasy, were to me welcome companions, I took my thoughts with them, to the house. A 3 format

Acrylic on 9” x 12” wrapped canvas

Hunchback of Notre-Dame watches as his home burns to the ground.

brush pen & fine point pen

Request from a friend that loves squirrels and asked me to draw her old fashioned stove.

From "A Cabinet of Byzantine Curiosities" by Anthony Kaldellis A young man begged Daniel, an Egyptian ascetic, to come to his home and pray over his wife, who was infertile. Daniel did so and she became pregnant, but people then began to say that it was the man who had been sterile, not the wife, and that Daniel caused the pregnancy in a non-miraculous way. When he heard this, Daniel told the man to inform him when the child was born and to prepare a meal for all his friends and neighbors. After the meal, Daniel took the newborn in his arms and asked him, Who is your father? The infant, who was twenty-two days old, said, that man, pointing to the woman's husband (Ioannes Moschos, Spiritual Meadow 114) .

I put this together for Arsene's last home match before he left Arsenal last season. Probably my favorite drawing to-date.

I was supposed to be doing homework yesterday. I did not. Instead I drew fan art of random thought bunnies me and my friend wandered through. So...enjoy. Floofs cuddling and being grumpy. Medium: Procreate on iPad. Time: I have no idea, wasn't paying attention.

Francisco Goya- Saturn Devouring His Son (1818-1823)

final for drawing class

The inspiration for this collection came from a conversation I had with the Founder and Executive Director of the Underprivileged And Underserved Foundation (UAUF), George Goodwine. While discussing race and whether or not every opportunity was fair based upon someone’s familial structure or “starting line,” I was asked the following questions. How does someone overcome these hurdles? How can the playing field be leveled to make things fairer, when others may only have 50 hurdles to overcome in the same competition? My response was simple. “The person in front of 150 hurdles has two choices. They can either get discouraged before they begin, or start jumping. In the midst of the race they might get tired, unsure, or discouraged, but if they press on to the finish line they may become more physically fit than the person who jumps over 50.” I used to dance ballet and at the time, there were a lot of hurdles I had to overcome solely based upon inconveniences that came with being raised in low-income, single parent home. Above are pencil sketches and sharpie drawings that I have drawn from actual photos. I plan on making these images my own by adding more abstraction and vibrant color to them. Over the course of the project, stay tuned to see how these pictures will transform into a work of ART!!! Check out my artwork at theservingartist.com

"Let Me Tell You About My Savior, Baphomet, your favorit pagan deity"

My downstairs neighbor inspired this piece with those deep bass notes rattling my home.

"Where thou art, that is home" : spread in my bullet journal drawn in response to a challenge over at Instagram.

Inktober 6: Gummi Venus de Milo

Sunshine inspired art created with ink and water color pencils.

"Heaven was putting distance between her and everyone." ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Riding with the Hides of Hell, which now has a new-and-improved title, Burnout. It's a young adult story about motorcycles, a road trip, adventure, and love.

“All roads lead home”

A place that I call home.

Pencil Drawing

Pencil || Sketchbook

Sketch while riding home

Looking for a place to call "home"...

I love drawing old houses, another monochromatic study in ink and gouache.

Thinking of making this into a wall paper, have been drawing lots of trees as so many near me have been getting cut down lately.

We wrapped up our trip with South of the Border, the schlockiest, most-borderline-offensive Mexican-themed South Carolina rest stop of all time. Then we hit Raleigh's art museum, and went home. The last few sketches of my sketchbook were me flipping through my photos and drawing a few favorite things I hadn't gotten to drawing yet. Thanks for traveling with me!

A long story, as yet untold