life

A random popular street in Paris

When life throws you lemons...duck.

A3 format, acrylic, felt pen, colored pencils Visual artists from the World of Fantasy are familiar with these creatures who are alive to every creator. Their court cannot be affected, there is no way to deceive the inner voice that knows the truth, created by the Observers. When the artist starts with some work, they appear, at first in a small number. At the end of their work, eg some pictures or sculptures, and especially when finished, their number is significant, they carefully study the artwork, and if they see a mistake, disharmony, lack of emotions, etc., dissatisfied will grumble somewhere inside artist's insights. The artist will feel that his work is nothing special, similar to many other artistic attempts that disappear in the dark of forgetfulness. Some spark is missing in his artistic creation, which would do its job gave a life that lasts. The disapproval of the Observer, their unpleasant resonance, if frequent, it can make a more sensitive artist to dump the brush and consecrate himself a completely different job, in which self-criticism does not play a significant role.

Colored pencil

Abstract

Yummy fresh avocados too delicious not to capture its beauty.

It's always fun to come to the Art gallery of the assheads, marginal artists of the World of Fantasy. Today I have seen the picture you are looking at, it made me interesting, as more people worked on it, not considering the picture as a whole, nor the work of its predecessors. Then, out of a large cardboard box, an old man came out and came to me. There were two big holes in the box, so I realized that the guy was looking at me from the box for a while. - Do you like the picture? - he asked. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, staring at me. On the old clothes he wore on himself, there was a stain of color. - I was impressed with - I said cautiously, knowing the unpredictable nature of people who deal with art - Did you do it? His face was stretched into a smile, a few teeth that he had left, flashes from the mouth cavity. - Yes - proudly erect his chicken breast an old man - Inspiration wore me all the time! He looked at me with a look that required my other questions about the image, need to tell any story, to anyone, about his work, was in it taut like a catapult. - What inspired you? - I ask the old man, and he barely welcomed the question and said: - Last week I was visiting my friend Jergon, the King of the Dwarves. (His statement that the mighty King of the Dwarves his friend was so incredible, that it must have been true. Assheads usually have unusual life stories.) "It is well known to you that the dwarves appreciate their privacy, keep their place of residence confidential and may be ruthless if you disturb them. As a friend of Jergon, "the old man says," I have surely passed the territory of the dwarves. As I approached his home, I noticed more and more than the vicinity of his underground apartment - in the old roots - was edited by the gardening techniques of the dwarves. Dwarves worship their king and their nature makes them do something for him every day. For example, to clean the weed and planted rare plants and flowers around his house. Some day they polished the old root under which the King lives. So the environment of his house went out completely artificial, unnatural. The king is angry because he now has no privacy, his home has become like a public park, sweet hide, dear dwarves, was taken away from him. He told me. "Dear friend, if you think it's nice to be a king, you are not right. Everything has its own price." This visit inspired me to paint this work. - I nodding my head as if to understand how much potential was in that situation, so inspiration was a natural consequence. - Art freedom is expressed here - I said to the old man - maybe with the King of the Dwarves, on it, the picture was even more effective. The old asshead looked at me strictly and asked: - Did you see the King of the Dwarves? "I did not even see an ordinary dwarf," I admitted. The old man looked at me for a moment or two with a disappointed look, then he turned and entered the box. I felt a look from the box on my back as I left the gallery.

my new work! - Here he is, he comes! - Pepe Fajgl said, pointing at the top of the hill. The environment was typical for the territory of a mortician: valleys overgrown with low grass, and with some high ground. Pepe Fajgl and I left the corpse Henri de Functa at the foot of the hills and watched the Mortician as it approaches the dead body at a uniform speed, his beautiful eyes were fixed to the deceased. "It's wonderful," I said to Pepe, - it is certainly longer than 20 meters. - The Morticians are the beings that all the inhabitants of the World of Fantasies respect and love, since they have appeared, the precious earth is no longer polluting with graves and cemeteries, number of burning corpses and then a terrible smell almost came to zero, pollution of the lake and the sea throwing the dead into the water stopped. After Mrs. Death takes life and the soul went away in the wheel of the final verdict, it remains only material, dead, a bit valuable part once alive being, the meat that becomes a problem for family and community. Mortician comes to the dead body of the late Henri, its enormous mouth silently sucked corpse, he turned, and dignity went behind the elevation, the problem was solved forever. A 3 format

City Life

When life gets tough just close your eyes....inhale the good...exhale the bad

This was the first sketch I ever made. I made it in January of this year. I still can’t believe that it’s been only some four months since I drew this.

This is van life, this is divorced life.

Fearful, in discomfort, rapid decaying manner, various creatures may go through such waves in life. To experience, to walk through and try to understand others, to help them. Humans are always in some sort of stress. The world is a very interesting place.

And we're back to class. It's amazing how a couple of weeks can get you out of shape for gestures. Medium: Vine charcoal on newsprint. Time: 7 x 2 minutes.

To consume, witness vibrant hallucinations through dark struggles in life. What fears must lurk here? Alone in tundra steps further, thinking of a different age.

An image depicting the taking of a mother fighting for her life as she holds her child. In tears while Reaper smiles heavily. Emotional valley weep thorns in their struggle to be together one last time.

More 2 minute gestures!

A movement study of legs using a male model. 20 minute initial sketch, five minutes for each following, and a final 15 minute sketch. Time: 1hr Medium: Procreate on Ipad

A medium sized painting created by a 16 year old girl

Ever had to fight with the ants for your chocos? It's past mid night and while I ate my chocos and stayed awake to study, the ants end up stealing my chocos. The battle gets worse when they decide to attack me. Cherry on top is my curly frizzy hair. R.I.P hair wash day.

When frustrated to the core and you wait for the one and only day, December the 14th,time goes slower than the usual and you can't do anything about it.

Taco illustration done with gouache

Iconic imagery from Kansas City togs at emotions and fills the soul!

An octopus I drew a couple months back. Don’t with black Sumi ink and micron pens on white paper

When I was a teen, my grandfather had alzheimers, a failing heart, and half of one lung. He was covered with scars and sometimes muttered at walls. I was asked to keep an eye on him, briefly, one afternoon, while my grandmother did something else. While I was alone with him, he looked at an empty space right next to me, and whispered: "Mom? Dad? Is that you?" With the exception of getting hit by a car, that was the most terrifying moment of my life.