...supported by some bioluminescent particles. I drew the glowy effect with a merchandise neon orange pastel pencil that I probably stole somewhere. The rest is a simple black fineliner on drawing paper.
"Whirlwind 21”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 5” x 7”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 21st in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 21, 2020.
Did your cat do this during the pandemic? I have read the stories online! It's a T.P. massacre here for sure! R.I.P. T.P.! Check out the rest of my Inktober posts on IG: @dittofunkysketch123 :D And now I have some of these illustrations on teepublic! Search under 'sketchcadet'! :D
This is a commissioned doodle illustrating someone’s dreams. This was drawn with a fineliner on A1 paper with no pencilling or pre-planning. As you can tell!
"Unthought-of Frailties cheat us in the Wise."
~ Alexander Pope, Moral Essays (1731-35), Epistle To Temple, line 69.
I really had to ponder this quote and figure out how to illustrate it. A spider came to mind...so tiny and fragile in comparison yet invokes so much fear. Then considered a daddy long leg.
Llyn Mymbyr, Snowdonia. This view looking in the opposite direction to Snowdon. First time using a Uniball UB-150, but the paper allowed it to bleed somewhat so the lines were a little heavier than intended. I think it would benefit from better quality paper or a finer pen.
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.
“Whirlwind 1”, an original drawing. Micron pens on archival paper. Size: 4” x 6”. Title, signature and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 1st in a series of drawings that were posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 1, 2020.
Kind of the icon or logo of Jester's restaurant, "Ringmaster's Pizza Hall". Before it was known as such, we called it "Jester's Mini Jamboree". If you didn't know, Jester has a line of steel dividing his bottom left and bottom right faceplate, which forms one mouth. So, in order to eat (even though Jester CAN'T eat, because he's a robot), he'd need to open those faceplates so he can fit food through the mouth. Drawn with FireAlpaca.
