I had a time, when monkeys were featured very often in my artworks. Even now, they emerge in the story-lines. Amazing creatures! This sketchbook piece is done using graphic markers, posca and pen.
A whimsical illustration of a large horn-whale creature with fangs, an anchor tattoo on his fin, and a tattoo of how many ships he has sunk on his back, with a whale rider perched on its back, is surrounded by gentle waves. The contrast between the massive creature and the tiny rider suggests a playful narrative. The muted colors and simple lines create a charming and imaginative scene.
A lot of lines, and a otter... In my family we call each other otters, when we have done something cute, but weird. Like when we misplace something in the fridge, like a phone.
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.
I'm a big nerd for fictional characters with an inanimate object for a head --- Phone guy, Flug, Ball guy, etc.. So, I made my own! He's got static for a head, which makes a low buzzing sound. It can morph into outlines of objects. They can talk, too, without a mouth, by making different pitches of humming with the static, if you catch my drift. I'm not sure how they can see, yet, but I'll think of something. The hoodie they have on is a reference to Pokemon Red and Green's cover art. His name shall be Cameron! Drawn with FireAlpaca.
The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table.
We traced them. Pushed them. Held them.
Then we let the colors lead:
-Red for emotion.
-Yellow for curiosity.
-Blue for memory.
Each color came with music, with story, with space.
At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence.
Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.
"Whirlwind 23”, 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 23rd in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 23, 2020.
“Whirlwind 12”, an original drawing. Size: 5” x 7”. Title, signature, and date in the back of the drawing. This drawing is the 12th in a series of drawings to be posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 12, 2020.
A far cry from how I usually draw. The lineart is messy and I colored sloppily, with the watercolor brush. This guy is the first out of three paint moster generations --- yes, this guy is made of white paint. The mahogany lines aren't blood, but rather mahogany paint. I may or may not post the later generations of Geoff (the name of three paint mosters, all related, all from different generations). Drawn with FIreAlpaca.
"Whirlwind 14”, 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 14th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 14, 2020.
“Whirlwind 6”, 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 6th in a series of drawings that were posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 6, 2020.
“Whirlwind 7”, 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 7th in a series of drawings that were posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 7, 2020.
“Whirlwind 3”, 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 3rd in a series of drawings that were posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 3, 2020.
Congrats to anyone else who took part in inktober this year! I focused on combining witches inspired by different types of teas and I had so much fun! I’m conquering my irrational fear of side profiles and I think it’s working, I’ve been really liking side profiles lately and finding them easier to do. I experimented on this piece with adding freckles (they’re a feature in all of my inktober sketches but I haven’t liked how freckles have looked when I’ve dotted them in with a pen or brush) and uh, I guess it was kind of a success? Next time I’ll use my lighter shading colour for them, as I used the ink I use for my lines and it turned out really dark and concentrated, but I think they’re cute! (and I have ink sprays everywhere)
"Whirlwind 11”, 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 11th in a series of drawings posted over a period of 100 days. The original post date on this drawing was September 11, 2020.
