From Sketch to Final Water Coloring Stages, this is a spread from Tide Day! A lot goes into making a good composition, taking into account the center of the image where the binding is, and how to play with size and negative space. One of my favorite things to do is explore contrasting expressions between characters and highlight their emotions through physical stances and expressions. This was a tough challenge with the lack of limbs and the watery context, but Pearl's stubbornness and attitude shines through!
A sketch recalling an era when smoking indoors after a meal was commonplace—a fleeting pause of stillness before continuing the journey ahead. Done with mechanical pencil on scrap printer paper.
Sometimes wisdom comes in a joke,
and sometimes laughter carries truth.
Brian spoke like a sage,
Mike answered like a friend,
and together they held the room.
We draw to remember.
Not only the lines of faces,
but the presence of goodness,
the gift of voices that echo
long after the chairs are empty.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
Three trunks rising from one root, steady and separate yet belonging. The little bush at their base reminds me that life gathers in layers—quiet companions at the feet of giants. A simple contour line holds it all, the way a moment holds both strength and tenderness.
Zelfmedelijden is Dutch for Self-pity. The person is drowning in their own self-pity. They are depressed and poison themselves with their pity. It hurts, but is hard to stop. Addicted to pain.
September 2019, acrylics on canvas
“ Art is very good for you, it really gets to the emotional truth of things, even if the emotional truth of things is a big extra slice of the weirdness cake.”
Very wise words from Burnt Paw I had to include here!
I have been listening to astrophysicist's broadcasts a lot this days. Few I like the most are Joe Rogans's with Neil deGrasse Tyson, Brian Cox, Sean Carroll. They talk about obviously space, extra terrestrial life but also religion, people, psychology. I realised that when you think at cosmos level or at subatomic level, the things we worry about in day to day life feel very less compared to the vastness out there or in us. So I think it is very important to get out of the city, to find clear sky and look at the stars up there. It gives a surprising energy which I don't know how to describe but feels powerful.
my first *official* painting titled "Winter Solace". I painted this one of my OC when I was feeling down. We all know how it feels during the winter months... dark, gloomy, and a good portion of us suffer from seasonal depression. But sometimes, we just have to take it in and be thankful for how far we've come, and how much we have yet to experience. I painted this to remind myself and others that there's always the calm after the storm, no matter how intense your storm may be. It's okay to not be okay.
Now you seen cheery geeky side, I know wish to introduce my dark and horror side... This is something I drew last autumn. While growing up I always had a taste for ghost stories and eventually horror films... Creating demonic entities eerie and unsettling scenes... The Darkness... the unknown can be both scary... and exciting!
Well friends just got done creating my new logo to represent my ministry. The design incorporates symbols that represent both writing poetry, commentaries, short humorous stories. This is represented by the quill pen. My fine art, commercial art represented by the painter's palette, and illustrative tools.
The colors running to the center of the palette to from the cross, represent my Christian ministry. Going to FedExs to have business cards made. Planning to use this logo for my art fair booth
The handsome Talenthalus, consort of the Queen of Magic and her personal guard. Defender of the realms, he is the only one to remain at the queen’s side when the war against darkness is lost and they must begin anew, over and over, cycle after cycle.
This is a drawing colored with crayons and brush pens. His colors and appearance was inspired by a wolf avatar I created on an app. I completely transformed the likeness of my wolf avatar and made him half human.
A simple ink sketch of a bird at rest. Sometimes the quiet moments—watching, pausing, waiting—are the deepest teachers. This drawing is part of my exploration of what I call the Quiet Practices—small ways of living from the inside out.
If you’d like to see more of my reflections, I share them here: https://forming20.com/
Sketch of a flag surrounded by sadness. Featured in ART GALLERY GERMANY by Mark Fischer, WORLD OF ART & PHOTOGRAPHY and ART GALLERY CHINA by Mark Fischer.
Happy World Art Day :) !! #artdavidmeehan /+ 00351969534520 / meehan99@gmail.com / https://www.facebook.com/artdavidmeehan/ + #FUCorona2020 = bringing 2getherness while we have to stay apart from each other at least physically... Peace, love, hugs - but only spiritual 1s 4 now!! #corona #jokes #covid19 #cartoon #cartoons #worldartday #art https://www.facebook.com/groups/fucorona2020/
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.
