Soooo.... there's Keeper of the Lost Cities, and there's Star Wars... but what if you combine them? This is the one and only O-Biana Kenobi (Obi-Wan Kenobi and Biana Vacker). I'm actually really, really proud of this, so if you don't mind liking it, I would really appreciate it :) I plan on doing more things like this in the future, such as Emperor Palpitam (Tam Song and Emperor Palpatine) and Darth Vacker (Darth Vader and Fitz Vacker). If you haven't seen Star Wars GO BINGE-WATCH THEM!!! If you haven't read KotLC GO READ THEM ALL!!! I myself am only on 6/8.5 books in that series... anyway I hope you like this... because I worked really, really hard on it.
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.
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 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.
One of my favorite times of the year is Autumn. It’s a time that reminds me how blessed I am for the rich friendships I have in my life. It’s also a time I enjoy making new memories with relatives I have a deep emotional bond.
And for some reason, pumpkins symbolizes this wealth of love I have for these loved ones. Maybe because orange is a passionate color for me. Or maybe because the color orange is abundant during this season when warm a fuzzy feelings show up when I’m with my loved ones. This hue is in pumpkins, persimmons, hot apple cider beverages, cinnamon spice on pies or lattes, and the obvious autumn leaves.
But my focus for this illustration were big, fat pumpkins. I love hugging and squeezing them and feeling it’s cold flesh on my skin. I look forward to my next bite of pumpkin pie from our very good friend, Terry, who makes them very excellently!
helloo :). my grandfather and my family love cars like this. i drew the first version a while ago. it was so much fun. it reminded me of all the great memories we had while travelling in madagascar in the lovely car of my grandpa. thank you for reading & wish you a wonderful daay!:)
Watercolour on A4 watercolour paper. This was so much fun to paint, and it reminds me of holidays at my grandparents' house in Greece when I was a teenager.
Had this OC sitting in the corners of my mind for a few years, decided to revamp her. She used to have an oversized lab coat and sweatpants. Drawn with Fire Alpaca.
I don’t use headphones myself, but I imagine it must be nice to be able to dream away and be in some other state of mind, from boring cold and grey winter times.
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.
My friend once gave Peter hair in their own drawing... I finally gave in. I gave Peter hair... keep in mind that you won't be able to see his hair with his mask on. Drawn with Aggie.io.
It's not exactly a cat. Based on Eugene the Jeep from Popeye the Sailor Man. Look it up --- it looks nothing like a cat. But, alas, my subconcious mind went, "tail, means cat," and I drew this. Their name is Jeepers.
