We have scrap paper for post-it-Notes and I started with just one and had to keep taping more together :D I call this one 'Math Class', I really would like to finish it some day
The inevitable Labubu fan art has arrived!
I mean, I see so many of them here in Edinburgh and my folks (knowing full well my plushie habit) just so happened to pick one up for me as a gift en route back from their Cyprus trip. Can’t complain obviously, he’s a very good boy! :-)
Imagine trading your soft bed for a deflating mattress.
Imagine food cooked under ash, a fire that smokes more than it warms.
Imagine waking at dawn with stiff muscles, yet finding yourself strangely alive.
This sketch is not just about tents, cars, and campfires.
It is about the in-between—where inconvenience and beauty wrestle, and something deeper sneaks in.
Camping reminds me: comfort is overrated, but presence is priceless.
Tuesday morning drawing.
Fun fact, I listen to the Dead a lot while drawing and painting. It puts me in a good mindset. Just like listening to jazz, you get lost in the melodies and when you come out of it there is something there. Sometimes it garbage, but every once in a while you get something worth sharing.
There are practice excercises on Youtube for the sketchbook app. It was just for the flower, which
I didn't quite get it right and I changed the background and added the bee. I am actually proud of the bee. That's breakfast.
Many people walk past plants either without noticing them or with just a glance. For the Walmajarri people in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, and many other Indigenous groups, plants provide a source of food and medicine. These outlines are of plants that are used by Walmajarri people as either food or medicine. For most people they remain a mystery, hence the outline only.
Today’s drawing gets it’s name from something I overheard someone declare at lunch yesterday afternoon. I’ve had kale often enough and yet, I’m not convinced it tastes *entirely* like grass... I could be wrong though. Thoughts?
Featuring handmade art by Washington state artist, Tonya Doughty. If you would like this design on an item not listed in my shop, please don't hesitate to ask if it's possible! Just contact me.
Featuring handmade art by Washington state artist, Tonya Doughty. If you would like this design on an item not listed in my shop, please don't hesitate to ask if it's possible! Just contact me.
This guy's running up like "Hey man, you know... If you're not going to use that computer I'll take it because you know... You don't have to throw it to those robots, man. You know?" Just like that.
So Mum goes for the phone and these guys slip out the door to see what Graham is doing up in the tree... I can't believe they'd just leave their food behind like that. I mean... look at it. Mmm.
I kept my eyes on it the whole time. Now it was moving so slowly that you couldn't really see whether it was coming towards you or not. Occasionally its shape changed just slightly and its black tummy swept over the concrete floor. I could hardly breathe. I knew that I ought to run away and hide bur I just couldn't. Now it moved diagonally again towards the wall and wasn't to be seen any longer. It was in the pile of junk behind the modelling stand, it was somewhere behind the sacks of plaster and might appear again just anywhere.
It was getting dark in the studio. I knew that it was me who had let the creature out and I couldn't capture it and lock it up again.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
Lords of War - otep
With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us, God
More wars on foreign shores
More names for us to mourn
To misguide the misinformed
To ignore the sick and poor
Thus, we praise the lords of war
On our knees and beg for more
A fresh poison for the weak
Filthy little beasts
Bred to conform
It's the dwarfed souls of greedy men
Feculent, arrogant
That shackles our young to the cold concrete
And empty their guns into bodies
They scream "I'm not guilty"
They scream "I'm not guilty"
But cowards here are only what they fear
Shoot until the threat stops
I'd rather be in battle than at peace
I'd rather be a wolf than a sheep
I'd rather be in battle than slaughtered like cattle
The weak can sleep while
You were born to be led
That's what religion says
With a bifurcated tongue
America eats its young
Bullet-toothed, empty gods
Paralyze the minds and contest the thoughts
With devils everywhere
Bombs bursting in the air
Drones flown over thrones
Of bone and brimstone
Sabers rattle in the homes
Of the cowards and the crones
As they shackle our young
Blood stains the streets
Pigs empty their guns in their bodies
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
We rise in defiance
We won't remain silent
To triumph over tyrants
And police violence
Shoot until the threat stop
We're not guilty
Help us God
The lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
What is so terrible about a child screaming?
Why should it disturb us?
Just because we happen to be there to hear it?
What about the child who comes from an inadequate home, where he gets no encouragement from his parents
Where he doesn't have enough to wear, he doesn't have enough to eat, he comes to school hungry...
This beautiful, breathtaking #embracingnightmares
