motion

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.

A funny whimsical illustration of a stack of chocolate chip cookies paired with a glass of milk and a striped straw. Emotional Support Cookies.

A flying saucer in motion

I am a developer, and coding is my world. But when it comes to, say, the "life" part of life skills? Not so much. After a grueling 72-hour coding marathon, fueled by nothing but caffeine and questionable decisions, I made a mistake I now regret on a cosmic level: I spilled coffee on my external hard drive, the very drive that stored access to my digital wallet, holding a significant sum. At first, I told myself it wasn't that bad; surely a little splash wouldn't be a big deal, right? With confidence in my tech skills, I turned to the internet for answers. One search result boldly asked: "Can you dry a hard drive in the microwave?" Spoiler alert: absolutely not. Don’t try this under any circumstance. I’m lucky I didn’t end up with melted plastic or worse. After my solo data recovery efforts failed catastrophically, panic set in. This wasn't just lost files, this was years of effort, wiped in a moment. That’s when I found Digital Resolution Services. Desperate and admittedly a bit embarrassed, I reached out, hoping for a miracle. From the moment they answered, I could tell I was in capable hands. The team was calm, professional, and reassuring, never once mocking my questionable DIY methods (which, looking back, I probably deserved). Instead, they got straight to work, applying specialized tools and expertise to my situation. The process wasn’t easy. It involved long nights, constant updates, and a rollercoaster of emotions. But Digital Resolution Services never gave up. They stayed committed, persistent, and focused every step of the way. When they finally restored access to my wallet, I was overwhelmed with relief not just because the funds were safe, but because I could finally sleep without stress. That experience taught me something valuable: sometimes, it’s not about being the expert in everything, it's about knowing when to trust the right ones. Now, I keep my coffee and hard drive far apart. And every time I take a sip of that morning brew, I remember: if your data matters, don’t gamble, reach out to professionals like Digital Resolution Services. TELEGRAM: @DIGITALRESOLUTIONSERVICES WHATSAPP: +1 (361) 260 8628

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.

Years ago, I sketched Gibby at work—pencil in hand, bold strokes alive with motion. I caught them from over the shoulder: just the back of their head, the soft curve of their face, and that focused arm bringing something into being. They were 9 or 10 then, already showing the spark of creativity and concentration that pointed toward who they’d become. Now in their mid-20s, Gibby is thoughtful, insightful—quick to listen, slow to speak, and wired to process the world with care. Their path has been remarkable: two degrees in 2.5 years, no debt. That didn’t happen by accident. It took grit, German immersion schooling, 16 college credits earned in high school, and testing out of 24 more once at university. That’s Gibby—quietly determined, resourceful, and steady. But their story isn’t just academic. Gibby’s always been gifted with their hands—drawn to set design, locksmithing, welding. Trades they wanted to pursue early on, and still feel pulled toward. They’re at a bike shop now. It’s not the dream, but it fits: their hands know how to build, repair, and reshape the world. There’s been frustration—maybe even anger—that we didn’t let them follow the trade route right away. I get that now. Life veers, and sometimes the path chosen isn't the one imagined. But Gibby’s resilience—their ability to adapt and press on—is what I admire most. They’ve embraced their journey with honesty, stepping into their identity as a they/them person, unafraid to define success in their own terms. That takes courage. I’m proud of them—not for a résumé, but for who they are. This old drawing isn’t just a memory—it’s a thread connecting past to present. A reminder that the creative spark, the steady hands, the deep soul I saw back then is still shining. So here’s to you, Gibby: the kid who sketched with fire and the adult who still shapes the world with quiet brilliance. Your value has never been about the path you’re on. It’s about the person you are. And I’ll be here, cheering you on—every step of the way.

Years ago, while digging through old journals and sketches, I stumbled across a quick, scribbled drawing of two pears. Beneath it, I'd written a raw and honest note: "Ann is pissed. I think it's because she's uncertain about me, us, life itself. She just ran into my car with the van. She says it was an accident, but she seems happier now—almost like it was cathartic. . . Like sex." At the time, I scribbled this in frustration, feeling a deep disconnect between us. Intimacy had become a confusing and distant concept in our relationship. The pears I'd sketched were rough and scratchy, charged with my chaotic feelings. Looking back, I see how emotions can drive us to strange actions, some intentional, some accidental, often leaving us oddly relieved afterward. Humans are complex, fascinating beings, navigating messy emotions and messy relationships, sometimes colliding intentionally or unintentionally, seeking relief in unexpected ways. Perhaps the pears were my subconscious pun on "pair," reflecting the awkward, confusing way Ann and I were bumping through life together—making messes, but occasionally finding strange humor and genuine catharsis in the chaos. I've learned to smile gently at the rawness of our humanity, appreciating even our scratchy sketches and emotional collisions. They're reminders that life, relationships, and our own hearts are never simple, but they're authentically human. Here's to embracing life's unexpected catharsis and finding humor in our imperfections.

"Pisces Koi" is a bold and intricate black-and-white ink piece that blends symbolism with fluid motion. A koi fish, known for its resilience and transformation, weaves through a bed of blooming roses, creating a contrast between movement and stillness. The fine details in the scales and petals bring depth, making the composition feel alive. The upward motion of the koi echoes the legend of perseverance—where a koi swimming upstream becomes a dragon—mirroring the Pisces spirit of adaptation and ambition. The roses introduce another layer, possibly symbolizing beauty, personal growth, or challenges that shape us. This piece captures a sense of quiet strength and fluidity, speaking to those drawn to themes of transformation, water energy, and the balance between struggle and grace.

If time cost flesh If life is boundless Then where will my hours take me I want with desires I wish like a liar Chasing the rabbit timidly When im asleep My dreams are whats deep I drown in seas of maybes How do i rise How do i reach skies When emotions and plans limit me I grovel an weep Cause i put dreams out of reach But i want to engage the maybes So instead of the plots And sitting on thoughts Its time to embrace the daydreams I wont cower to dreams I’ll capture a scheme And nurture the life of maybes -#embracingnightmares

Here is anime style: https://www.doodleaddicts.com/uploads/69316/noa-rabiner/" Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay. To mould me man?" A foreign ability user named Cohen and his sister Noa visited the Agency. Cohen has the ability "I," which allows him to temporarily animate any objects. For example, tables, chairs, statues, etc. But he must manually "unanimate" them. The weakness of his ability is that objects left animated for too long will go insane. He came to the Agency because his brother, Levi, stole their family heirloom - a golem, the best matter with which "I" works in symbiosis. Cohen is dying of an illness. He must pass on his ability to another, but finding the golem is a priority. The main plot twist, of course, is that his "sister" is the animated golem. She does not know about this since the master ordered her to forget and believe in her familial relationship with him - the golem unquestioningly follows the orders of the master and this includes subconscious self-deception. Noa is an ancient creature, but her age matters little because when her master "turns her off," all the memories she has lived are erased from her memory. With a new "turn on," she needs time to gradually gain an independent mind and begin to feel. Unfortunately, this process is rapid enough to cause terrible problems with controlling emotions and feelings, which always lead to blind violence on her part when she can not cope with herself... In some ways, she is naive, but she highly values ​​life and human life in particular. Human beings amaze her with their complexity and their achievements. And life in general is full of exciting colors and aspects for a once inanimate object. However, there is a person who will do anything to prevent Noa from gaining freedom, and it is not even Cohen... "I" is a reference to a chapter name from Gustav Meyrink's novel "Golem." Characters are not based on any writer, but they have references to "Golem" chapters' names.

So, I drew my BSD OC character, Noa. Trying anime after learning new things. I'm not really happy with her hair. I need to think about her design more. "Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay. To mould me man?" A foreign ability user named Cohen and his sister Noa visited the Agency. Cohen has the ability "I," which allows him to temporarily animate any objects. For example, tables, chairs, statues, etc. But he must manually "unanimate" them. The weakness of his ability is that objects left animated for too long will go insane. He came to the Agency because his brother, Levi, stole their family heirloom - a golem, the best matter with which "I" works in symbiosis. Cohen is dying of an illness. He must pass on his ability to another, but finding the golem is a priority. The main plot twist, of course, is that his "sister" is the animated golem. She does not know about this since the master ordered her to forget and believe in her familial relationship with him - the golem unquestioningly follows the orders of the master and this includes subconscious self-deception. Noa is an ancient creature, but her age matters little because when her master "turns her off," all the memories she has lived are erased from her memory. With a new "turn on," she needs time to gradually gain an independent mind and begin to feel. Unfortunately, this process is rapid enough to cause terrible problems with controlling emotions and feelings, which always lead to blind violence on her part when she can not cope with herself... In some ways, she is naive, but she highly values ​​life and human life in particular. Human beings amaze her with their complexity and their achievements. And life in general is full of exciting colors and aspects for a once inanimate object. However, there is a person who will do anything to prevent Noa from gaining freedom, and it is not even Cohen... "I" is a reference to a chapter name from Gustav Meyrink's novel "Golem." Characters are not based on any writer, but they have references to "Golem" chapters' names.

Melt away my agony

A representation of how human connection is formed by dance and the variety of styles found within dance. Additionally, the colors represent the general emotions each style invokes.

So cute. I did this for a whimsical winter painting challenge at Escapemotion/Rebelle

I'm in immense emotional inconsistency and I miss this person so much. -I remember painting this in the month of October... around sunset, at the terrace with cheap acrylics and 1 paint brush on a foamy material that comes with jeans or cloths.. I made this in appreciation of a person i love..

This captivating ink drawing features a fantasy character standing still, deeply rooted to the earth and seamlessly merged with nature. Surrounded by a complex web of trees and plants, the figure embodies the essence of the natural world. In the background, a mesmerizing sunset casts a warm glow over abstract waves of clouds, creating a harmonious blend of light and shadow. This artwork symbolizes the profound connection between humanity and the environment, inviting viewers to reflect on the beauty of nature.

This black and white ink drawing portrays an aged man with a beard lost in deep contemplation within a futuristic spaceship setting. The subtle hints of sadness on his face are contrasted against the vastness of space, where the Milky Way is barely visible in the background. The artwork evokes feelings of isolation and reflection, inviting viewers to ponder the human experience amidst the cosmos.

This poignant black and white pencil and ink drawing captures the essence of a dark, broken man with sand slipping through his fingers, symbolizing the passage of time and lost hopes. A hole in his chest reveals his heart, while beside him stands a similarly broken woman. In the foreground, withered flowers and a shattered hourglass accentuate the theme of decay and loss. The background features a forgotten playground, representing the loss of innocence, and a swirling vortex with lightning in the sky that engulfs the man's illusion of reality. This artwork speaks to the emotional turmoil and fragility of the human experience.

A4 Monotypic , acrylic on black paper

(Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) One of the most horrific situations you could ever be in. You're going through the motions and you turn to see that there's no toilet paper left! With no-one to help you, you know you're going to have to make that terrible choice.....Your socks or your underwear!

emotionally involved - coloured aquarell and black ink on washed newspaper 40x30 cm

Its been a while since I drew something based on pure emotion.

Poop!

Monotipia , acryl on paper A3

I have a certain energy that runs through me, almost like a current. Balancing this energy can be quite a challenge, but I have found that meditation helps me to find my center. I like to quiet the noise around me and focus on my inner truth. Sometimes, I begin my meditation with my eyes closed, allowing my emotions to guide me in sketching out my experiences. This helps me to open up my channels of creativity, which I am currently using to work on my upcoming novel. I can't reveal too much about it yet, but I hope you will enjoy the sneak peeks I'll be sharing as I work toward completion.

my original illustration (zoom in): "development"

we are all as prisms filtering the Light of Experience into internal experiences which we call emotions

Alexithymic persons are often focused on external stimuli.