A few days ago, I started a Pigma Micron pen 005 drawing of a tiger. Yesterday, I decided that it would be nice with colored pencil. I used Berol (1990's) Prismacolor, Koh-I-Noor Polycolor, Faber-Castell Polychromes colored pencils.
I wish I had more time to redraw this, I'm learning construction with this piece. While I'm satisfied that I have made improvements in learning about the human form, this still just looks bad. Due to lack of time, and practice. I'll get better with time and patience.
In an attempt to be much more consistent with my drawing practice (and to tackle my insecurities about showing people my drawings) I am hoping that posting some of my sketches online will help keep me accountable. So day 1 sketch, I managed to find a very cheap used college set of Rotring Rapidograph pens online, when they arrived today I was delighted to see that they had NEVER been used! After a bit of a happy dance I got a couple of the pens assembled and started to figure out how they work. This is a quick sketch on tracing paper not that I was tracing anything I just need to invest in better paper with less tooth to be able to use these pens without having ink flow issues.
Drew this for a professor that mentored me on my first research paper! You can also find me on facebook www.facebook.com/sonialaiart for WIP and updates!
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. I enjoyed this foray into digital mosaic (or fauxsaic as I've seen it called).
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. This one I limited myself to a 100 pixel x 100 pixel canvas.
In July of 2022, Brianna Grier died falling out of a moving police car while having a mental health breakdown. Since Brianna passed, I have been heartbroken for her twins and family but also reflecting on my struggle with mental health. Mental health needs compassion and empathy, not police and punishment. The brunch strokes are purposeful, but I completed them with empathy in mind. I want to keep the composition simple but filled with meaning. The color theme represents vastness and loneliness, but also kinetic energy found in warm orange tones.
This was a bit difficult prompt. I dont want to draw just brick of wall or similar. So i choose to use photo where my wife is with ”brick” of ice as reference
55 mins
“I Never Noticed The House Was On Fire” This is a painting for an upcoming group exhibition about memories. When I was a kid I grew up in a household where my parents were functioning alcoholics. They gave me toys, put me in front of the tv, and sent me outside to play to keep me distracted from what was going on. When I look back almost all of my childhood memories revolve around these things. I became obsessed with these imaginary worlds and I learned to draw by copying my favorite cartoons and characters from children’s books. It was not until I was much older, that the truth could no longer be hidden from me. The imaginary world of cartoons and books kept me shielded from the harsh realities of home. As I grew into an adult that form of coping grew with me as I created my own imaginary places inspired by the ones I loved as a child. A healthy place to escape.
Three kings stopped a walking man to ask advice about their dreams.
But the man said, "Oh no please, I don't want to hear these things."
"I have dreams of my own although they'll never come to pass...
I just work my life away while all you rich guys sit and laugh."
#28 - A collection of ballpoint pen sketches drawn on printer paper & scanned. This is what my lines look like when I'm not using a stabilizer in digital software to get the nicest clean lines. I tried to separate my scanned lines from the various shades of off-white that the scanner picked up. I adjusted the brightness and contrast levels in photoshop but I'm not very knowledgeable on how to achieve the best results.
For some reason, I had to prove to myself that good art does indeed take time. Anyways, this is an angel character (they're not real angels, they're a fictional species of mine) in my "spacefluff" style. I think I want to name her Mosambi, because she's sweet.
God lived on the hill above the rock-garden and there was a forbidden cart up there. At sunset he spread out like a mist over the house and the field. He could make himself quite small and creep in everywhere in order to see what one was doing and sometimes he was only a great big eye. Moreover he looked just like Grandfather.
We raised our voices in the wilderness and were continually disobedient because God so likes to forgive sinners. God forbade us to gather manna under the laburnum tree but we did all the same. Then he sent worms up from the earth to eat up the manna. But we went on being disobedient and we still raised our voices.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
24x30 canvas A weathered steer skull fixed against a wagon wheel, drawn in graphite, charcoal, and ink, evokes the grit and resolve of westward migration. The skull stands as a quiet emblem of endurance, sacrifice, and survival, while the wheel anchors the piece in motion and passage. Westbound ’49 references the year many headed west in search of promise, capturing the stark beauty and cost of that journey in restrained black and white.
