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."
I believe the future is about connection. Sometimes it seems that technology is making us more alone, but I like to believe that with every post, like, comment, follow, share, email and tweet, we are making ourselves more visible to one another. And together, we can make ourselves heard... Keep it positive, keep it loud, and keep it going forever.
"Flying in the sky with a lady in its arms,
The Platform's heading fast out to the farm.
She was harmed unknowingly and now she will become a seed,
From which the platforms now will feed until they breed." -- Drawn with fountain pens, colored with my iPad using Procreate.
Lords of War - otep
With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us, God
More wars on foreign shores
More names for us to mourn
To misguide the misinformed
To ignore the sick and poor
Thus, we praise the lords of war
On our knees and beg for more
A fresh poison for the weak
Filthy little beasts
Bred to conform
It's the dwarfed souls of greedy men
Feculent, arrogant
That shackles our young to the cold concrete
And empty their guns into bodies
They scream "I'm not guilty"
They scream "I'm not guilty"
But cowards here are only what they fear
Shoot until the threat stops
I'd rather be in battle than at peace
I'd rather be a wolf than a sheep
I'd rather be in battle than slaughtered like cattle
The weak can sleep while
You were born to be led
That's what religion says
With a bifurcated tongue
America eats its young
Bullet-toothed, empty gods
Paralyze the minds and contest the thoughts
With devils everywhere
Bombs bursting in the air
Drones flown over thrones
Of bone and brimstone
Sabers rattle in the homes
Of the cowards and the crones
As they shackle our young
Blood stains the streets
Pigs empty their guns in their bodies
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
We rise in defiance
We won't remain silent
To triumph over tyrants
And police violence
Shoot until the threat stop
We're not guilty
Help us God
The lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
What is so terrible about a child screaming?
Why should it disturb us?
Just because we happen to be there to hear it?
What about the child who comes from an inadequate home, where he gets no encouragement from his parents
Where he doesn't have enough to wear, he doesn't have enough to eat, he comes to school hungry...
This beautiful, breathtaking #embracingnightmares
riding while looking at your phone is a very bad idea and can land you a fine in Amsterdam but I've watched people type whole messages while riding around the city.
A stylized architectural illustration capturing the intricate beauty of a classic brick gateway and decorative ironwork. This design blends traditional sketching techniques with a modern, vibrant color palette, making it a perfect statement piece for those who appreciate urban history and fine masonry details.
A whimsical depiction of an anthropomorphic frog making Freestyle motocross trick called "Seat Grab" in a classic penny farthing bicycle. The image is funny, humorous and minimalist, featuring a simple outline.
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.
