I have a Webtoon called The Peculiar Scribble. I am completely redoing and rebooting the series. The series only has one chapter at the moment. But I didn't like the start of it, so I'm giving the chapter and the rest of the series a fresh new start. I will hope to have the whole chapter posted to Webtoon by the end of the month. This is a sneak peek of the comic cover art. This character means a lot to me and comes from the very depths of my black inky soul.
Fairly recently I was "commissioned" to paint a picture of my cousin and grandmother. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, but painting this was a bit of a challenge. There were definitely moments where I stopped painting and completely hated how it looked/became frustrated with myself, and I wouldn't work on it for days. I felt an odd pressure attached to making this... or maybe I'm crazy. 16x20, acrylic.
It's an odd feeling to reexperience the old anger and frustration I thought I had overcome, but, in all reality, I've been letting it creep back in for a while now. There was a moment of fear, it's still in the back of my mind, I'm afraid to slip back into the mental place I was a couple of years back. I'd like to say I've finally realized that it's ok to be afraid, and even a bit frustrated, but it's a matter of how I handle those emotions and my own reactions that make the difference.
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’m 32 days into a 100 day project of little paintings to reclaim moments of creative joy with no strings attached – a daily reminder of what made me want to be an “artist” in the first place. I’m posting daily on my Instagram account @stephdillondesign
The past two days have been interesting, to say the least. My anxiety kicked up again, yielding two more panic attacks...oh joy. There's an increasingly chaotic external environment: COVID-19 positivity rates rising, looting, SAT nonsense (thank you College Board for not giving anyone information and for being very uncooperative). Am I angry at people in the world? Yes, and I know that's a generic, over-used phrase, but I truly am. I'm tired of all of this. I'm aggravated with the current state of the U.S. There's moments where things feel fine, and others when it feels like things are closing in. No one knows what the next few months will bring and tensions are high. Will things work out? They will eventually; they better. But, at the same time, what the heck is even going on anymore?
This is part of a beautiful moment that was created as I was painting on these mini watercolour sheets. During the journey, I painted around 5 paintings. This is the first painting I painted during my train journey. A group of girls ( students ) got excited when I showed some of my paintings. So I gifted them this. More on the way ....
hi! here are some little self portraits in a semi-lineless and more cartoony style. i'm pretty pleased! my hair at the moment is probably closest to the second from the right, but the middle head is probably my fav style to have it in. hope y'all are having a lovely day and like this little piece!
xoxo honey
This is the 5th piece that I painted during my train journey. I painted this scene after passing so many bridges, i was wondering how the people from below might see us when the train is crossing the bridge. A group of girls ( students ) got excited when I showed some of my paintings. So I gifted one of them this (●'◡'●)
This is the 3rd piece that I painted during my train journey. I painted this scene after missing my greeny patches on house from outside. I didn't like how this painting turned out to be. But still fine T_T
I was or still am about putting this character on my DA. This is Echo, she is very dear to me. I started her over a year ago and have been working on her design. She belongs to me all rights are mine, she is mine. I wanted to share her with the world. I have another picture I'm working on at the moment. I'm trying hard to work on body types and background images.
It's been a while since I draw on kraft paper.
So, here is the result on the thinking process: How can faun shield themselves from sunlight if they can't put a hat on?
Answer: They tie branches to theirs horns.
...
I should be the one shielding myself from the sun just so it can't kill anymore neurones.
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Ça faisait vraiment un moment que je n’avais pas dessiné sur du kraft.
Donc voilà le résultat de la réflexion: Comment les faunes font pour se mettre à l’abri du soleil s’ils ne peuvent pas mettre de chapeau?
Réponse: Ils s’attachent des branches dans les cornes.
…
Je crois que c’est moi qui devrait me protéger la tête du soleil, histoire que ça ne cogne pas trop sur mes pauvres neurones.
Jook’s doodle colouring books are a collection of true gems. Her anthropomorphic and surreal scenes depict a plethora of creatures, spanning from cute and innocent-looking to downright bizarre and monster-like. Flip through the pages, get colouring and get inspired. Join Jook’s world. Colouring books for ages 7 to 77.
I am a Belgian female artist & illustrator and I use a self-invented technique of automatic drawing to delve into my subconscious. I doodle everywhere and every spare moment. By quickly drawing, barring any conscious thought, I am giving as much room as possible to my imagination. Through extensive, at times even compulsive, doodling, a new and totally unique world arises. Come visit, get inspired and maybe get lost in my subconscious. Join my world and my obsessive-compulsive drawings. More info: doodleart.shop | Facebook | instagram | youtube page of the book
The meal was my attempt to bring a little comfort into the rugged outdoors. The sketch was my reminder—to hold onto the moment, even when mosquitoes, ashes, and deflating air mattresses had other plans.
Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence
This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete.
But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains.
When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing.
So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal?
Perhaps presence itself is the real art.
The moment of death of a Christian as they leave this earthly world and travel to the afterlife. The figure is halfway between the earthly and heavenly realms. The earthly realm I painted in flat paints. The heavenly realm is bright and glorious. God is depicted in trinity, you see Father, Son and Holy Spirit as one.
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.
I told my boys, "That's you, you and you." They paused for a moment, pointed at the hot dog, and asked, "Well... Who's that?" ... "That's your baby sister." -- Ink and watercolor on 5x5 Arches cold press.
