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.
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. I enjoyed this foray into digital mosaic (or fauxsaic as I've seen it called).
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. This one I limited myself to a 100 pixel x 100 pixel canvas.
This piece is inspired by Mental Health Awareness Week that’s just left us.
Belated and as cryptic as things might be (as usual) here in Bleu’s world, better late to the party than never right?
I had something bum me out a little bit today. Nobody’s fault but it is what it is. So I decided to draw this up. I’m ready for fall and fall beers! I love to sit out under the moon once the temperature drops a bit and have some marzen lagers and other fall drinks. I felt like this captured the moment perfectly. I am excited for music fest in @havertownlife havertown tomorrow. I heard @levantebrewing will be pouring at brick and brew so I’ll be there sucking back some suds. I’m glad I forced myself to learn #adobeillustrator I’ve come a long way. Since then I have been able to help other artists that don’t use Illustrator or vectors and I am pretty proud of that, because when I was in their place it always felt like a huge struggle.
I had this bizarre dream recently that I saw some
maniac driving in circles around my neighbourhood in what looked like a Reliant Robin, ready to crash into whatever they could at any given moment… yes, my mind (awake or asleep) works in weird ways but it gives me ideas so, hurray?
My first attempt at a concertina birthday card. While simple to make, it can be a bit fiddly and getting the proportions and placement of objects right for each layer is important so that everything can be seen once the layers are overlapped. It reminds me of printing processes, where each layer is gradually added. It was quite an enjoyable process.
This quick sketch of an impressionist painting is a reminder to me of how we cannot see anything until we are taught to see it. I was enjoying the painting because of the way Tarbell captured light, when a man and his wife joined me. The man said to his wife: "This is a wonderful painting, but I wonder whose lap the baby is on.". I was shocked because I was not able to see the baby till he mentioned that there was one. I noticed that it was indeed difficult to tell whose lap it was on. It was a transformative and humbling experience.
A 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle I recently painted as as gift for my grandma on her 85th birthday, using objects and photos of significance from her life. :)
I finally finished this piece for my Aunt. It was based on a goofy picture she sent me. I am pleased with the depth I achieved and can see improvements. I am not most experienced with portraits or anatomy/characters.
What is your relationship with a Higer Power like? A friend of mine mentioned to me that a Rabbi Friend of his suggested that God likes a good argument. I thought that was funny. The self portrait is G2 .o5 on bristol board with marker for the added color.
Driven by my mishearing of something Dr. David Scheel was talking about regarding the octopus Heidi he kept in his home for a yearlong period...
His documentary ‘Octopus: Making Contact’ is a lovely thing worth watching I should add!
I do browse some weird things on places like Youtube, without a doubt! Definitely in the search of inspiration 9 out of 10 times though (as you can see)...
Sleep well David Bowie, and thanks for all the inspiration! Saw this comment on one of Iggy Pop’s music videos via YouTube and had to create something based around it, spelling mistakes and all...
To be perfectly honest, the latest lockdown announcement here in Scotland was bound to influence my art in some form or another...
Needless to say this is going to be one looooong winter, one that’ll have me blasting “Here Comes The Sun” by The Beatles once it ends, or at the very least stabilises.
As I reflect on my past experiences, I am accutely aware of how often I have spoken from opinion rather than from experience. I have made mistakes. This makes me think of the Mark Twain quote -"Good judgement comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgement." Let's go out and get some experience, shall we?
