"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.
This is my first attempt in a long while to start digital art again I was actually messing around with a couple of the features when I actually got this! I hope it looks for a first try
I did this drawing as watercolor practice. I hadn't been doing waterclor drawing for quite long time. It took a couple days to finish it, but I enjoyed it. It was really worth it.
Étude chromatique colorée à l'aquarelle dans le cadre du cours de dessin à la deuxième session.
The final result of a color study exercise made in class. This piece got sold not long ago.
Winter strikes Stoke Newington and the scarves come out along Church Street. Pops of colour and man's best friend help get us through the most trying of seasons
“Beware the wild rushes”, my mother told me. “They grow on the bank side along the salt sea!”. But I, being young, I heeded her none. (Inktober inspired by the Decemberists!!)
Moving away from your hometown inspires a multitude of emotions. By taking inspiration from the atmosphere that the game Life is Strange and Steven Universe creates, I hope to convey a sense of longing and nostalgia that makes us all a little more united in our loneliness.
This is a canvas made with a page from my Route 66 travel journal. As I was creating this, the Cubs won the World Series, so I had to add the hat...we'd waited a long time to see those hats on the lions.
An illustrated poem I did as part of my drive to learn Korean. I did this, along with 40 plus other illustrated poems, in my notebook. Here is an English translation of the poem: :
High Pine
Close to the brook I'm looking at a high pine
High pine I want to talk to you
Many questions I have
How many people have you seen?
How many sunny days have you seen?
How many rainy days have you seen?
How many people's voices have you heard?
How many birds' songs have you heard?
High pine can you hear me?
High pine can you hear me?
High pine do you have any good stories?
High pine do you have any good stories
I will listen well
Really
Really
Really
My mind is on Puna so much lately. I love Hawaii...was born there and rediscovered it as an adult. I stay in Puna area when I go, in little houses I rent, or once, housesitting for a friend. This drawing was made one day when Mom and Dad and I went to Pohoiki to sketch. This little cottage and park is in the path of the flow and may already be gone. You can no longer drive there as the roads have been cut off by the lava flow. My heart goes out to all Hawaii residents dealing with this massive lava flow, and the VOG that goes with it.
There might be a few weird reflections in this as I had to take a pic of it on my screen to get a file large enough....I gave the original to a friend who lives near the park.
I have a little Moleskine (3.5 x 5.5) notebook that I only draw skulls in. I started in November of 2013 and I do one whenever the urge strikes me. It's not like a skull-a-day thing but sometimes I do get into a period where I will draw one every day for a while then I won't draw any for months. I even lost it for a while and was very sad. I think the longest gap between pages has been a year. This is the most recent skull, drawn on 05.28.2018. Most of them are posted on my Instagram but you have to scroll back a ways to get at the bulk of them.
"Build them up
High and strong so you'll never have to hurt too long
Put them up
'Til they surround and there's no real you left to be found
Hold it up
High above no fear of hope or trust or love
Close it up
And hold your ground and wait unt
Sometimes wisdom comes in a joke,
and sometimes laughter carries truth.
Brian spoke like a sage,
Mike answered like a friend,
and together they held the room.
We draw to remember.
Not only the lines of faces,
but the presence of goodness,
the gift of voices that echo
long after the chairs are empty.
A horizon of chalk—black sky heavy with silence, gold earth glowing with embered breath.
Between them, a thin line of turquoise, the pause where one world ends and another begins.
It is not sky, nor sea, nor sand alone. It is the threshold—a doorway, where silence teaches and light remembers.
Stand here long enough, and you may hear it breathe.
inking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
Against the weight of a storm-dark sky, tender stems lean forward—some bending, some breaking, some still reaching.
They hold their fire at the tips, waiting to bloom, waiting to burn, waiting to belong to light.
Perhaps this is all of us:
stretching through shadows,
searching for the thin, golden line that divides earth from eternity.
