This is a version of the coffee with more coloring. It wasn't until I was already finished that I noticed that I made the top of the cup too round. Oh well.
Things have been so busy of late and my output has greatly reduced. However, I have returned to oil painting. I revisited this piece I started last year and put in a few more hours to finish it. The scene was from a few summers ago when I visited Pen Arthur forest for the first time. The piece takes me right back to that day when the late summer afternoon sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy.
Close to a month ago, I had found out my design was selected for the Art Stop Program, and, yes, this is mainly what I've been working on since. I've never worked on a piece this large before, 72in x 24in, and I rarely make sketches of pieces before creating the final work. It's definitely a cool feeling to look at the finished board and see how the drawing actually came to life. (The Art Stop Program selects a handful of entered designs for the artists to create on a larger board, and these boards will then be inserted into bus stop benches around Niles, IL.) I can't wait to see the bench this will be in, and I'm so lucky I got to be part of the program.
I have avoided social media for a couple of months now as it was making me unproductive, unmotivated and all-round less creative. I miss the community of creative social media so I have made this account to post my art anonymously: good or bad; finished or not; unedited and unfiltered. I hold back a lot when making art and even more so when publishing it. This is an opportunity to change that. This is a quick self-portrait just to force myself into creating anything today.
More ballpoint pen experiments. This was trying to "blend" colors, using ball point pens in a similar way to colored pencils. I found Layering evenly to be pretty difficult, esp with the pens blotching and very very limited burnishing. The interesting thing is that the paper doesn't seem to get "tired" the way it does with pencils. This is just cheap printer card stock.
I painted Van Gogh's irises on my kithen cupboard door. We needed to put a door on the space where the microwave used to sit but we couldn't get one to match the rest of the cupboards so we got a piece of board and I painted it with acrylic paints and varnished it.
I finaly finished this painting. I started it two years ago and then forgot about it for a big while. I am very happy I did it.
https://www.facebook.com/Amelyalatelier/photos/a.210485196527749/332000904376177/?type=3&theater
I did this one in India ink and colored it with Winsor & Newton drawing inks. I love the vibrance and transparency of illustration inks, but don't use them too often because the colors are fugitive
Doodle piano by Cédric la touffe. Superforma and The Silo asked me to customize the old piano that was outside at the silo. I first started during the concerts of 10lec6, Loire Valley Valypsos, The Green box and Ineige then finished at Silo after 22 hours of work.
This piece was done with watercolour crayons, crayons, fineliner, acrylic paint and a touch of posca. I was showing that love can be blind and sometimes almost arrogant and selfish, the arrow has hit the spot on the second attempt but the scars are still to be seen. Although the person playing cupid aint always an outside force. I enjoy playing with the titles and am constantly changing and thinking of what it will be called when doing the piece, but i do like my wordplay. this one was a play on horticulture and felt it all tied in to the final design :))
This is available as an a3 sized print.
Just finished the excellent EXPLORING Kourse (Sketchbook Skool), I had to set my own agenda. I am trying to get used to using watercolors. I like it when they don't fill the page entirely. Here is an archerfish trying to catch an insect by spitting at it,
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.
