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Had another drawing in progress I started at my art club tonight that I finished en route home… and here we are!

There are only a few lovely large pine trees near my home in the Southwest of Western Australia. This little sprig was found on a walk where there was only the one pine tree in amongst the other trees.

Shes pretty calm.

Sometimes I come home and I have to express myself, for better or worse. I am an outsider both in art and in my personal life. Nature of my illness.

Based on a photograph of a hibiscus flower enjoying its last day in the garden before being brought back home before the Canadian fall and winter. I imported the photo in Procreate and the rest is history.

Definitely in need of an escape, methinks.

Island mentality.

Lockdown makes some of us forget what good times were like before the coronavirus reared it's nasty little head, so in response we dig down into our brains for times that really mattered.

In a funk, but getting out of it quick.

The name for this piece comes from a billboard I noticed as I was heading home from a shopping trip not too long ago, and it’s stuck with me ever since. Life in lockdown (needless to say) brings with it plenty of time for us all to learn and get creative in whatever way works best..

Something different in the form of Pac-Man's long lost brother...

In the spring and summer where I work we have "Yacht Rock Friday" and even though everyone is home now, it's still playing on my speakers.

A vibrant, hand-drawn urban sketch capturing the quiet magic of a black cat wandering through a Mediterranean-style alley. Featuring warm orange and yellow hues, loose marker strokes, and a whimsical atmosphere, this piece brings the warmth of a European summer right into your home.

Expensive things arent needed to make art. Go outside, find something, pick it up, take it home, and dream……#Embracingnightmares

I've been meaning to draw some objects around my home. I got to these ones today. Pen life drawing.

I have been up and down this week with my art. One day I love it and in a few days I start to hate it. Its a roller coaster I'm sick of. But inside myself I hold many universes that I try to explore with my characters. One might hold vampires, while the other might hold mermaids. While others are looking for peace, lost treasures or finding their way home.

Hey boos! This is gonna be my last drawing for a while. I'm going on Thanksgiving break at school soooo yeah :D Can't be on here at home cause I don't have a Chromebook haha. Anyway hope ya'll have an awesome thanks giving.

Cassandra Is normally a home body but tonight she changes her usual routine and is going out with some girlfriends. Drinks and dancing the night away.

A little fairy prepares to head home after a full season's work. Ink with digital color and text. 10x7 inch on 110# cardstock.

Pencil sketch - digitally coloured.

Mark Twain (1835–1910) In the 1870s and ’80s, the Twain family spent their summers at Quarry Farm in New York, about two hundred miles west of their Hartford, Connecticut, home. Twain found those summers the most productive time for his literary work, especially after 1874, when the farm owners built him a small private study on the property. That same summer, Twain began writing The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. His routine was simple: he would go to the study in the morning after a hearty breakfast and stay there until dinner at about 5:00. Since he skipped lunch, and since his family would not venture near the study—they would blow a horn if they needed him—he could usually work uninterruptedly for several hours. “On hot days,” he wrote to a friend, “I spread the study wide open, anchor my papers down with brickbats, and write in the midst of the hurricane, clothed in the same thin linen we make shirts of.” Whether or not he was working, he smoked cigars constantly. One of his closest friends, the writer William Dean Howells, recalled that after a visit from Twain, “the whole house had to be aired, for he smoked all over it from breakfast to bedtime.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” ― Mark Twain #dailyrituals #inktober #MarkTwain @masoncurrey

Louis Armstrong (1901–1971) Armstrong relied on music to lull himself to sleep. Before he could get into bed, however, he had to administer the last of his daily home remedies, Swiss Kriss, a potent herbal laxative invented by the nutritionist Gayelord Hauser in 1922 (and still on the market today). Armstrong believed so strongly in its curative powers that he recommended it to all his friends, and even had a card printed up with a photo of himself sitting on the toilet, above the caption “Leave It All Behind Ya.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “All music is folk music. I ain't never heard a horse sing a song.” ― Louis Armstrong #dailyrituals #inktober #LouisArmstrong @masoncurrey

I was feeling listless about this inktober until I picked up Daily Rituals : How artists work by Mason Currey. I immediately knew that I want to do these portraits for the inktober. FRANCIS BACON. At the end of these long nights, Bacon frequently demanded that his reeling companions join him at home for one last drink - an effort, it seems, to postpone his nightly battles with insomnia. Bacon depended on polls to get to sleep, and he would read and reread classic cookbooks to relax himself before bed. #inktober #portraits #francisBacon

The concept for this painting started as a design for a pumpkin carving contest. I felt the message of the design is so important for people to hear, I decided to make it into a painting. The original design, done in pen and ink. The design only shows the two doors of the entrance to a fortress. I tried to keep the design simple, because the carving event is both timed and live. You must create your masterpiece on the pumpkin they provide, on their location, Infront of live spectators. The evolution of the design? I added a wall on each side of the entrance, with matching pillars. Explaining the design of the pillars The triangle top: the triune God. Representing three persons of God: Father, Son, Holy Spirit. The cross shape opening in the pillars: The cross is the only path to God, to have the debt of sin satisfied. To reconcile humankind back to himself. To be released from being a slave to the Devil. To be a new creation empowered by God Spirit. Explaining the design of the entrance way(gate) The top of the entrance is in the shape of a heart, represents the seat of human passion, ambition, and allegiance. The cultic three petal flower is used to represent God in three persons united. The symbol inside the flower: God’s ministry toward humankind. Crown: Highest authority Cross: God’s loving salvation and restoration plan. The dove: Spiritualty made alive, fellowship with God, empowerment to weather the storm of life, and equip for service to God. Change in the design of the door. In the original design, one door had roses carved on it. The pattern took up the whole door. The other door had a grape vine carved on it. The pattern took up the whole door. I modified the emblem on the doors by making them smaller and simplified, so I could place them inside heart shapes, so the new images would more clearly communicate what they are meant to represent. I also added color to the emblems (color pencil) to make them clear of what they are, because of their size and the ink medium ,they were hard to interpret. Understanding the symbol of the two doors. The door with the rose inside the heart emblem represents a heart whose passions, ambitiousness, allegiance are focused on the cares, worries, and abstaining riches of the world. Only giving God lip service. I chose the rose to represent the heart of spiritual allegiance to the world, because roses are pretty, but you can’t eat them to nourish your body. They also have thorns that can cause injury to the body. So, the parallel point is, just as flower fade and turn to dust, so will the person who chases the thing of the world and has no time for God. For life is very short, we know not which will be our last breath on this side of eternity. But if a person leaves this earth without excepting the gift God offered them which is salvation from penalty of sin and given enteral life through the work that was done on the cross by God’s son. Then that soul will appear before Jesus, and just as they did not know him in their life on earth, He will tell them he knows them not. Into the lake of fire, they will spend eternity. The door with the grape vine in the heart emblem represents a heart whose passions, ambitiousness, allegiance are for God. To know Him intimately, to obey His teachings, to serve his will. I chose the grapevine to represent the heart of spiritual allegiance to God, because grapes are nourishing to the body. Jesus also used a grape vine in one of his parables. He paralleled the spiritual relationship he had with his disciples and the grapevine. He told them just as branches of a vine must depend on the base of the vine to live and bare fruit, so they must abide him to have abundant life. Abiding in Christ is not a religious act. It is outside of religion. It is an intimate relationship. Example: you can belong to a fan club of Paul McCartney and know a lot of things you have heard about him, but he doesn’t even know you exist. Where, if Paul is your father, and you have a good parent to child relationship, then you know him intimately. So, abiding in God, we commune with him through read his word and living by its teachings. It is spending time in prayer. Sharing our hearts with God and spending time listing to him. Trusting in him as our provider and giving thanks for his provision. Living our lives, with the purpose of pleasing him with the work of our hand and loving our neighbors in the workplace as well as in the community. Just as a healthy grapevine continues to grow and produce much fruit. Having an imitate relationship with God should be more and more evident in the way we live our lives. So, when the angel of death pays you an unexpected visit, he escorts you to Jesus’s throne, you know for certain he going to welcome you with loving arms and said welcome home my faithful servant. Now to which door I chose for my life? It’s the one that is open. This bible verse one of a couple that inspired me to design this illustration. 1 Corinthians 3:12-13 King James Version 12 Now if any man builds upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble. 13 Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. This verse is not referring to the rebellious people who have rejected God, this is referring to people who are children of God, who failed to serve God faithful. Written by Stephen J. Vattimo. 3 Jan 2024 Evolution of the design of this painting. I believe God through His Holy Spirit guided me to change the crosses on the two pillars, one on each side of the doors. Instead of these windows being fill with darkness, which would represent death by crucifixion, which Jesus endured for humanity, that who so ever is willing may be delivered from the power of sin and be adopted by God to become a member of His family. I was inspired to put light in both cross windows. The cross window on the side the open door, with the grape vines on it, the light matches the color of the light that is coming out the windows of Icons shapes representing the ministry of tri union God. The color I used is a bright firry orang yellowing color. For the bible says God is a consuming fire. The cross windows on the side of door with the flower on it, I used the color greenish yellow lite; to represent a false light, the bible call it a form of Godliness without power. Who so ever tries to approach God another way, than the path God has ordained. They will not be received. The Devil distorts the truth, to lead many to their demise. The only way to know the difference between truth and fallacy, is to study God’s word. Written by Stephen J. Vattimo August 7,2024

A hard day's work is at it's end!

An adventure with liquid charcoal, watercolour, Indian ink, fineliner and coloured pencil.

Luminary Festival - Auren Farkis (Digital Portrait I did as a colour study) Crisp reverberating strings danced through the evening. Notes twisted and echoed up through the emerald, velvet tiers of Ridgedow Gardens. Dusk’s veil had long since darkened to a diamond-encrusted black, and Clarglow was alive with activity. Footpaths were choked with revellers that formed a river of light that coursed and pulsed through the park. Will-o-whisp spots of light also glowed among the neatly trimmed hedgerows and statues. Their magic-addled voices rose up, joining in with the music of the Luminary Festival. A young man, no more than a quarter of a century old, glowed brightest of all. A soft orange radiated from his eyes, and his veins pulsed a brilliant red. He was dripping in gold and gems. Over an outfit that somehow managed to be heavily layered and revealing at the same time, he wore a sheer cape, which was heavily embroidered with blood-red crystals that refracted his own light around him in dazzling, concentrated rays. It was such a dangerous colour of magic, but his expression was soft and dreamy. Excited laughter rose up as a clustered group shot metallic confetti skyward. Gold flake drifted down and settled into his silver hair, cheeks, and shoulders. No doubt he would discover the remnants of this festival in his home weeks from now. He increased his pace, stepping off the cobbled path to overtake the group, when one of their number split from the group. The coils of her dark hair were so saturated with gold that she looked like she belonged on a pedestal next to the other statues. She intercepted him, matching his pace. She snaked a long, slender arm around his waist and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his neck, leaving a wake of golden kisses up to his earlobe, where she leaned closer to whisper. — “Aurie, Luv, I know that look. Don’t tell me you’re headed home. The eve has only just begun. “ Her glowing eyes Locked with Auren’s, her grip tightening, slowing the both of them to a stop, causing a temporary blockage in the flow of people. “Overdid myself Mel.. you’ll have to –” –” Come with us to the reflecting pool.” She cooed, meeting his lips in an off-center kiss, smearing his inky wine lipstick. Momentarily, he allowed himself to relax. He considered saying yes. His heart pounding, he dipped his friend backwards gracefully, resenting that he had to leave. An itch in his left arm reminded his fuzzy brain that he was in danger. Gasping softly, he gently lifted Mella upright and spun her out towards her friends, who were growing impatient. He couldn’t make out their faces in the fuzz of the evening. “I can’t, I’m sorry Mel! We’ll talk later.” Before she could protest, he danced, spinning forward in a brilliant display of speed that ended in a stumble as he met a set of steep steps that coiled sharply upwards out of the park and onto the pink brick streets overlooking Ridgedow Gardens. The glazed windows facing the street were empty and blank… their occupants elsewhere, enjoying the festival. The empty buildings were like faces, judging him for his lack of zeal. Auren wound his way through streets and side streets, his pace increasing as he grew more and more alone. Finally, he was climbing a set of steps to his own front door. Smirking at the sight of it he reached down into the front of the bodice that held together the layers of his outfit pulling free a loop of keys that were on a long chain looped around his neck. Aligning it to the keyhole he struggled with the lock, cursing softly under his breath as it initially failed to cooperate with him. In the quiet black of his foyer, he latched the door behind him and stumbled forward, tearing at the ribbon that held the gleaming cape that draped from his bare shoulders. He let it drop on a black lacquered table. He reached up to unclasp an elaborate choker and tore his single, crimson glove down from his elbow. He pressed a gilded fingernail against a band of red ink encroached upon by a spreading corruption. Marginally extending beyond the band were sinews of mismatched muscle and skin; even his hair had begun to glow red. Pulse rising, he wrenched his rings from his fingers, casting them into the ever-darkening room. Precious jewellery piled under him until only the dimmest glow from his own veins remained.. Slumping onto the steps, he tightened his grip on his arm and twisted it ninety degrees. A sharp click of crystal against porcelain met his ears. The room was enveloped in black as his final stone slid away from his arm, rendering the prosthesis inert. He slid to his side, the sounds of the party below overtaken by his own gasping breaths, panic refusing to subside alongside his magic.