mind

Your mind is a garden. Your thoughts are the seeds. The harvest can either be flowers or weeds. — William Wordsworth

I miss grapefruit. Doesn't it just figure? The only medicine I take and it has to have that limitation. It could be worse. Stop whining Jim. At least you made it to the World Series of doodling. Well...in my mind anyway.

When I saw this vintage Boston Terrier pull toy I just had to illustrate it. My favorite nickname for Annabelle is LuLu. I hope Barky doesn’t mind.

Personal reminder

I'm going to try to remember Throw Back Thursday. It's fun for me to go back and try to remember what was going on in my mind that made me doodle what I doodled on that day.

This sketchbook is my therapist. Not this one specifically, but any single one small enough to fit in my pocket. I tell it everything, from quirky thoughts and funny notes to abstract concepts, drawings and positive reminders. Keep it analog folks… a doodle, sketch, writing, poem, or scribble every day helps to keep the brain fit and the thoughts flowing. ✏️

Ice Dream. There’s some strange references going on in this one. If I don’t explain it won’t come together. Back in my day the Europe 72 3 record Dead live album had a crazy kid on the back cover smashing a cone on his head. Later an ice cream truck company called Weaser ripped off that art and would visit my mid Jersey neighborhood daily. Google it if you care. Flash forward to 2019. The ice cream truck that hits my neighborhood EVERY DAYS has a loud obnoxious song and no Greatful Dead connections. It drives me out of my mind so here is the result. I always try to turn my pain into gain. What a long strange explanation it’s been.

Man, I’ve been random lately. I think my mind’s eye sees stuff that normal people don’t. That might make me abnormal. I’m kinda comfortable with that. Guess who’s going to be watching some Clint Eastwood tonight?

Doodling is what I do. It's a way to make visible the randomness that's in my head - just drawing out a concept right when it comes to mind and scribbling on whatever I can find.

Graphite and iron oxide recovered from acid mind runoff on watercolor paper

My Vintage blue floral pattern print was designed for fabric. Originally drawn in black & white line, the blue adds a vintage feel and reminds me of the blue and white china of yester year.

In July of 2022, Brianna Grier died falling out of a moving police car while having a mental health breakdown. Since Brianna passed, I have been heartbroken for her twins and family but also reflecting on my struggle with mental health. Mental health needs compassion and empathy, not police and punishment. The brunch strokes are purposeful, but I completed them with empathy in mind. I want to keep the composition simple but filled with meaning. The color theme represents vastness and loneliness, but also kinetic energy found in warm orange tones.

Did you ever have a page in your sketchbook that was so bad and so embarrassing that you tore it out and chucked it? This was one of those pages that made me cringed every time I came to it. So today I said to myself, "ENOUGH!" and ripped it out of my moleskine. But something wouldn't let me throw it in the can. Now, I'm not one of those artists that can't bring himself to throw away any of his stuff because each and every piece, good or bad holds some kind of sentimentality or sense of importance. This particular page was a result of a crappy angst filled day and stuff poured out of me. For some reason, it felt like I was throwing away some piece of my soul. There were parts that were overworked and others that were painfully too personal. So I decided to cut it up and put it back together in no particular order, however it seemed best. As I was pasting the pieces down it occurred to me that this had a comic book feel so I scanned the final and added the black borders in photoshop which I really dug. I like that it is cryptic and jumbled up like my brain can so often be. This reminded me of the awesome @johnhendrix who said something in his book, Drawing Is Magic that stuck with me. He said, "Don't worry about doing anything wrong. If you're hoping your sketchbook turns into a glossy display of only your best drawings, you are not carrying a sketchbook, you are carrying a portfolio." In other words, explore, take chances, loosen up and have fun. Try your best to go at it like an uninhibited child. In so doing, you will stretch as an artist by avoiding repetition and predictability. We all know how to do what we already know. To sum up, I created a bad page, and whether or not I was able to fix it, it expanded me. So, follow your pencil, pen, or whatever and let them take you to places you never imagined when you started. Then, maybe you will end up staring happily at the final and with childlike wonder, say, "man, where did that come from?"

Title: Never Forget. A quick piece I made today. I wanted to go abstract so the viewer can put their own meaning into the piece, but each paint stroke I made I had September 11th in mind. Digitally painted with watercolor in Rebelle 5 on a simple white canvas and sent over to PS.

He sits up in his teacup with his hands wrapped 'round a porg, Thinking up new ways to join forces with the Borg. To eradicate the Rebels by infecting them with spores, And assimilate the hive mind to become one with the Force.

Pelican Queen gives a captivating rally speech to her subjects that are in her mind. Used some watercolor-pencils and some digital overlay.

So thankful for this experience that I shared with my class today. For the last 3 spring semesters, I’ve had the opportunity to take my KCAI Cultural Safari senior sketchbook class to draw from donor cadavers. Every year I am reminded of how amazing and intricate the human body is. I am also humbled by the generosity of the donors giving their remains to train young physicians. The conversations that result from these encounters always prove to be enlightening and inspirational. These are a few of my drawings I made.

Dropping bombs on people's moms... All because he's mad that his own mom named him "Tom." He overreacted but there's more to explain, though- Keep in mind the fact that his last name is "Aito."

an old work I've always left on my desktop screen for a reminder

Sometimes I just want to be in Mario's world.

A simple ink sketch of a bird at rest. Sometimes the quiet moments—watching, pausing, waiting—are the deepest teachers. This drawing is part of my exploration of what I call the Quiet Practices—small ways of living from the inside out. If you’d like to see more of my reflections, I share them here: https://forming20.com/

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.

It has been a delight to share with my students the incredible resource of people. Over the years, I’ve had the great privilege of connecting them with inspiring individuals such as Lois Ehlert, Dave Nice, Gregory Martens, Colette Odya Smith, and—as seen in this “Behind the Professor” sketch—Dr. Gaylund Stone. There’s something powerful about the presence of someone who lives their craft with humility and depth. In moments like these, my students are reminded that more is often caught than taught.

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 generally make marks on something every day, but I'm really TRYING to do it purposefully in one single journal at a time. I also have super ADHD, which means I pretty much never go up to my actual studio and usually only use what's out on my desk, because out-of-sight-out-of-mind.

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.

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?