list

Morning doodle. It's hard to get anything else when doodling is near the top of the list. Not that I'm complaining. ;)

To do list. I usually hate them but this one was kind of fun.

my entry for jh stillworks spirit of Wyoming contest. one of 8 finalists.

This week, I've been doing pencil drawings of dogs---usually while listening to the news on my computer. Cardigan Corgi, Bloodhound, and Borzoi (Russian Wolfhound). Various graphite pencils on Canson Sketch pad paper. Random on-line photos as reference.

This drawing was done with pen and colored pencil. I wanted to create a self-portrait that could also serve as a profile picture for my art accounts. My other self-portraits tend to be realistic, so I decided to try and depict myself in my own illustrative style instead. My artistic influences for this piece include tattoo styles, pinup art, and art nouveau as well as inspiration taken from some of my favorite portrait artists, Sargent and Rockwell.

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.

A Brief Pause at the Edge of Becoming It seems I am always seeking a place to sit— not just to rest the body, but to settle the soul. Yet even in stillness, Gary Brecka’s words whisper: “The quickest way to old age is the aggressive pursuit of comfort.” So I do not stay long. I walked until I found a picnic table beneath a canopy of bare-limbed trees, branches like open hands waiting for green. The blue spruces nearby— stoic, unchanged, whispering that some things endure. I sketched. Not perfectly. Not for anyone’s praise. Just a mark to say: I was here. Alive in this in-between. Waiting. Listening. Not for leaves— but for something truer than comfort. Thank you for joining me in this small noticing. A moment borrowed from the rush. A table. A tree. A thought. A gift.

Not quite true, that last bit…

I never imagined I could capture so much emotion in an eye—especially on just my second attempt. This piece came to life through intuition more than technique. The values, the shadows, the highlights… they felt like they found their place on their own. Maybe emotion, light, and shadow have always spoken to me—I just finally listened.

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.

Just sitting, listening to podcasts and doodling.

Spooky whale time! And a touch of Mark Lanegan flavoured listening material also...

An autogenerated Youtube playlist (that I’ve yet to listen to) prompted this malarkey... This narwhal needed a home too!

Practicing some realistic sketches with a sketch of one of my favorite actors. If anyone can tell who this is, then that means I did a good job.

Years ago, I sketched Gibby at work—pencil in hand, bold strokes alive with motion. I caught them from over the shoulder: just the back of their head, the soft curve of their face, and that focused arm bringing something into being. They were 9 or 10 then, already showing the spark of creativity and concentration that pointed toward who they’d become. Now in their mid-20s, Gibby is thoughtful, insightful—quick to listen, slow to speak, and wired to process the world with care. Their path has been remarkable: two degrees in 2.5 years, no debt. That didn’t happen by accident. It took grit, German immersion schooling, 16 college credits earned in high school, and testing out of 24 more once at university. That’s Gibby—quietly determined, resourceful, and steady. But their story isn’t just academic. Gibby’s always been gifted with their hands—drawn to set design, locksmithing, welding. Trades they wanted to pursue early on, and still feel pulled toward. They’re at a bike shop now. It’s not the dream, but it fits: their hands know how to build, repair, and reshape the world. There’s been frustration—maybe even anger—that we didn’t let them follow the trade route right away. I get that now. Life veers, and sometimes the path chosen isn't the one imagined. But Gibby’s resilience—their ability to adapt and press on—is what I admire most. They’ve embraced their journey with honesty, stepping into their identity as a they/them person, unafraid to define success in their own terms. That takes courage. I’m proud of them—not for a résumé, but for who they are. This old drawing isn’t just a memory—it’s a thread connecting past to present. A reminder that the creative spark, the steady hands, the deep soul I saw back then is still shining. So here’s to you, Gibby: the kid who sketched with fire and the adult who still shapes the world with quiet brilliance. Your value has never been about the path you’re on. It’s about the person you are. And I’ll be here, cheering you on—every step of the way.

Cont. to work on BnW illustrations, I wanted to focus on making the reflections have a realistic quality. I struggle with clouds, but I felt I was most refined here. My BnW's seem to have so much more life and expression than my paintings. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Behold the Chair (inspired by Wendell Berry) Make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet. The chair does not strive. It does not speak loudly. It simply is— ready to receive, to hold what comes, to honor the silence. This drawing does not shout. It listens. It does not disturb the quiet— it joins it. Like a prayer whispered to the One who listens back, this mark is a presence, not a performance.

Named after my Wu Tang Clan moniker, according to some name generator…

When music and manga collide for bonus inspiration…

This is the largest canvas thus far for me. In progress!! Multiple projects are in sway with this baby of mine. Feel free to check the link for updates on all the moving parts, including video and still shots with hidden treasures added in between (little surprise pop-ups of newness) along the way. https://photos.app.goo.gl/eNiH1mwVbFHaAyAZ9 Here's some music that inspires me, along with links to listen live or on replay. Phenomenal! - DJ OTB for your creative journey. I love getting lost in the music while I dig deep to paint or create my soul expression. Much gratitude to all those out there who inspire me every day. https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/ https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/a-journey-in-house-afro-melodic-progressive-chill-13072024/ https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/a-journey-in-house-afro-melodic-progressive-vibes-13072024/

Ink and charcoal on paper

Ink on paper

Repeated psych-folk listenings/last night’s drunken pretensions informed a misspelling of things or two...

I have been listening to Critical Roll a lot and this is Fjord's falchion.

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.

With thanks (again) to endless listens of Devendra Banhart and other awesome folk like himself...heheh.

Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character. With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer. Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.

Realist art with Pop Art influences.