I spilled a little paint on this leather scrap so I figured why not paint something on it? It’s kinda hard bringing a ‘possum to life on paper because they’re so silly and dumb in a cute sort of way, I think I managed to capture this guy’s personality alright..
The Tool Bench marks my 50th canvas—completed exactly one year to the day after I finished my very first one. This piece is a tribute to work, memory, and the quiet corners where both creativity and responsibility live.
Drawn entirely freehand, it’s built like a snapshot of a lived-in workspace: mismatched tools, worn wood, scribbled reminders, and the little personal things that actually make a place yours. The clipboard holds a “Honey-Do” list that never seems to end. The Polaroid-style sketch of my wife sits taped to the wall like a reminder of why the work matters. The shadows on the back wall match the tools lying on the bench—suggesting a moment in progress, a task paused, life happening between motions.
In this memory-driven piece, Patmore reconstructs the bathroom from his third-grade elementary school, capturing the sterile brightness, the tiled repetition, and the institutional reminder to “WASH YOUR HANDS.”
But the scene is not pristine — a leaky sink, an out-of-order stall, and a taped-up sign reveal the quiet decay behind childhood places we assume were orderly and safe.
Patmore blends nostalgia with unease, transforming a simple restroom into a study of what it means to grow up: how the lessons we learn early (“hygiene,” discipline, responsibility) stay with us even after the walls begin to crack. The small pop of blue tape emphasizes the DIY fragility of rules meant to guide us.
This piece stands at the intersection of memory and maintenance — of spaces, of bodies, and of ourselves.
In “I Love Lamp,” Ty Patmore blends nostalgia, humor, and subtle unease into a surreal domestic scene where time, space, and memory feel slightly off-center. A lava lamp—softly glowing with drifting shapes—sits on a worn wooden table, acting as the sole beacon of warmth inside a room that is quietly falling apart. The wallpaper peels back to reveal fractured brick beneath, as if the structure itself is shedding its old skin.
A melting wall clock drips down the surface like time losing its grip, while a framed picture of a UFO drifting over pine trees hints that even the outside world may not be quite right. Every object bends reality just enough to make the viewer question whether this room is comforting… or unsettling.
This artwork is part of my ongoing visual diary of factory life—small, overlooked corners turned into honest moments.
“Trash Talk” sits right between humor and grit… a reminder that even the most mundane places have something to say.
“Revising the Future” captures the exact moment creation becomes correction. Using my own drawing hand as the model, I built this piece through a cycle of sketch, pause, observe, and refine — letting the act of drawing guide the artwork itself. The eraser actively lifts portions of the page, symbolizing the choices we adjust as we grow, the mistakes we confront, and the quiet courage it takes to reshape the path ahead.
Ps i hadn't drawn Cleetus from flamingo on their own in an while was his commission pt 3 i drew 1 month ago yet again in the sneezy art era aka last time i drew him sneezy art era and Due is busy drawing other YouTuber flamingo fanarts lolz
A 20x36 canvas A surreal shoreline unfolds beneath a weathered lighthouse, where reality bends into myth. Planes drift through muted skies, a UFO lifts a van from the cliffs, and the sea itself seems alive—its waves whispering forgotten tales. Between the moon’s watchful eye and the wreckage below, every fragment hints at a story untold, a dream caught between the tide and time.
Post-Apocalyptic Pastime
In a world where decay replaces diamonds and cracked walls echo memories of youth, a lone figure stands ready to swing. Post-Apocalyptic Pastime reimagines America’s favorite game as an act of defiance—finding hope, peace, and play amid the ruins. The graffiti and broken skyline hint at what was lost, but the stance of “LEE 01” reminds us that even in the aftermath, the spirit to keep playing endures.
