I did this mostly from the imagination.The perspective is a bit off,but I still like it. Its of a peat bog in Ireland. A peat bog is similare to a marsh except the mud or soil solidifys, and then it can be cut for fuel.
They rode in silence as the sandy dunes passed them by. There was a storm brewing at the horizon. They did not know what destiny had in store for them next. All they had was themselves to rely on. They needed no one, they were independent.
A whimsical yet reflective scene blending humor and nostalgia. Ty Patmore transforms an ordinary tavern tabletop into a surreal narrative—where a whiskey bottle doubles as a rocket, a lighthouse watches over the horizon, and every object hums with quiet irony. Mixing ink and graphite with storytelling detail, this piece captures the playful spirit of escapism and the bittersweet comfort found in small rituals.
A horizon of chalk—black sky heavy with silence, gold earth glowing with embered breath.
Between them, a thin line of turquoise, the pause where one world ends and another begins.
It is not sky, nor sea, nor sand alone. It is the threshold—a doorway, where silence teaches and light remembers.
Stand here long enough, and you may hear it breathe.
inking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
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.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
When you are in this forest, you are lost, until the sun rises again to show the path out of madness. This was one of the first large paintings, that I completed. Its a strange thing because when I was painting it, i distorted the horizon line.The line should be level by right.
For a long period had viewed cryptocurrency as both a horizon of possibility and a landscape fraught with peril. My investment in XRP was meant to be a deliberate and disciplined step toward financial independence grounded in careful research and measured reasoning. Yet despite vigilance I became entangled in one of the most calculated frauds I have ever encountered.The ordeal began with an unsolicited approach from a man who styled himself as a broker. He spoke with eloquence about volatility cycles, algorithmic trading and insider strategies that promised to turn market unpredictability into consistent profit. The platform he introduced appeared impeccably crafted with real-time charts, seamless dashboards and a professional façade designed to inspire confidence. His promise was irresistible: daily profits, exponential growth and supposedly guaranteed returns. Though instinct urged caution, ambition and misplaced trust compelled me to transfer $85,000 worth of XRP.At first the illusion was flawless. My balance multiplied at a dizzying pace supported by polished reports and reassuring communication. I convinced myself I had made the right decision. But the moment I tried to withdraw the deception unraveled. Excuses surfaced such as verification delays, system maintenance and compliance reviews. The pretexts grew increasingly elaborate until without warning the entire platform disappeared. My login failed, the website dissolved and the so-called broker vanished into digital oblivion. My funds were gone.The financial blow was heavy but the deeper wound was humiliation knowing I had been manipulated so completely. In my desperation to find recourse I discovered Salvage Asset Recovery. Unlike the fraudsters their team projected candor and expertise. They offered no grandiose guarantees, only a clear plan of action: trace the stolen assets across the blockchain, analyze wallet addresses and engage with exchanges to intercept and freeze funds before they vanished into anonymity.Their pursuit was methodical. Using advanced forensic techniques they followed every digital footprint, identified laundering attempts and compiled evidence robust enough to withstand scrutiny. They kept me informed at every stage, never exaggerating progress, only presenting facts. Weeks later against all my expectations, Salvage Asset Recovery succeeded in recovering $70,000 worth of XRP. Though not the entirety of my loss it was an extraordinary victory and proof that justice in the digital wilderness is still possible.This reshaped my perspective. In cryptocurrency greed is the trap and vigilance the shield. Yet with the right expertise recovery can be achieved. For their relentless dedication, integrity and results I remain profoundly indebted to Salvage Asset Recovery. You can connect with them via below
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A cheerful sun rises over a blue horizon with colorful rays spreading outwards, accompanied by the text "happy new day!" in playful lettering. a vibrant and optimistic piece of art.
An illustration of a Thailand coastal scene is depicted with loose, expressive strokes, showcasing a rocky outcrop and the meeting of land and sea under a blue sky. Sparse vegetation sits atop the rocks, adding touches of green to the predominantly blue, green and beige tones.
The little bluebird, restless artist,
Flew over the orange horizon without restraint.
With his box full of colored pencils,
He thought he could paint the sky in an instant, of course!
But too many pencils and too few wings,
Unbalanced the poor little bird.
So many colors, no coordination,
His creative disaster fell to the ground!
Orange, yellow and red pencils shattered,
While the little blue bird fell in tears.
His celestial dream turned into a nightmare...
Until he saw - a rainbow formed!
From sadness, joy overflowed,
In that magical moment he understood:
It doesn't matter the skill or the tools,
Art comes from the heart, even if messy!
Hand drawn abstract wall art resembling uniform cut stained glass, representing horizontal rain. Inspired by a storm when in St. Lucia where the rain was hitting us sideways with great force.
I painted this with Oil on a non tumbled Rock I found from my local Mountains. An evening Autumn Scene and a slight yellow moon peeking out over the horizon.
