This drawing has gone through several iterations (rough napkin sketch, sketchbook sketch, black and white version, limited colour version). 2021, Bic4 Ballpoint Pen, Novelty 10 Colour Ballpoint Pen on 9” x 12” Archival paper. Model: ImaniZ
Doodling will give you ideas for projects that you didn't expect. The characters for my book, Flight of the Silk, came from sketches. This picture is one illustration for the book.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Transmundane Tuesday prompt from Carson Ellis.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CTnapPCrSFY/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Another work created in Lockdown in Berlin. Drawn on a piece of drafting paper from an ingenieering student in Leipzig, 1923. Like the cellar it was found in, it expresses a longing to be outside. A longing to feel of use, a job to go to or someone to visit. It is confusion and patience drawn out thin and ready to snap at any moment.
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.
A nap.
I am testing some new papers and colors to do more illustrations for the Minotaur book as I read it.
This book is called The Minotaur Takes His Own Sweet Time by Steven Sherrill. Can't wait to start it. https://www.instagram.com/p/Ce6SbuaOTqo/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Életünket most erdőrengetegnek képzelem, amelyben mindenki képességének megfelelő tudással, erkölccsel, tapasztalatokban edzett bölcsességgel élezett fejszéjével vág magának utat, esetleg ösvényt az értelme határáig húzódó világában. A sűrűség bódító leheletében szuszog a figyelmeztetés: ne vágj ki minden fát! Az ember néha mégis, mint megveszekedett fejsze, ide-oda csapkod, pánikol, mert nem találja a megfejthetetlenül göcsörtös mindennapokból a megnyugváshoz vezető, az örömmel járható aszfaltot.
/Tar Károly/
Festette: Ildikó Tuloková https://www.facebook.com/108474391287888/posts/116242793844381/?d=n
"'Faith' is a fine invention for gentlemen who see. But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!"-Emily Dickinson. A doodle from English class during the 4th rainy and cold day this week; let's hope the weather isn't foreshadowing how the rest of the school year will go. In all honesty, the only way I got through this week was courtesy of gymnastics and my fantastic coaches (shout out to Tony and Andrea). I figured I'd snap a photo of this before I give it away...
The silver lining of this shelter in place is my daily afternoon walk to put my son down for a nap in his stroller. In our previously scheduled life, he would fall asleep on the drive home from school. These are non native eucalyptus and my beloved favorite tree, a Monterey pine, on a shady side trail of Golden Gate Park.
