Doodle piano by Cédric la touffe. Superforma and The Silo asked me to customize the old piano that was outside at the silo. I first started during the concerts of 10lec6, Loire Valley Valypsos, The Green box and Ineige then finished at Silo after 22 hours of work.
My vision of the character ‘Smaug’ from J.R.R. Tolkien’s ‘The Hobbit’.
Pencil sketch, coloured digitally on IbisPaint X.
Here is a passage from The Hobbit describing Smaug’s appearance: “There he lay, a vast red-golden dragon, fast asleep; thrumming came from his jaws and nostrils, and wisps of smoke, but his fires were low in slumber. Beneath him, under all his limbs and his huge coiled tail, and about him on all sides stretching away across the unseen floors, lay countless piles of precious things, gold wrought and unwrought, gems and jewels, and silver red-stained in the ruddy light. Smaug lay, with wings folded like an immeasurable bat, turned partly on one side, so that the hobbit could see his underparts and his long pale belly crusted with gems and fragments of gold from his long lying on his costly bed.”
Inktober day 1, Poison. I drew a octopussy on his head, but then he forgets to keep his mind on the really dangerous thing, the poisonous snake coming from the corner. Be aware out there..
This is one of my daily contributes to the 100 days project. I am doodling over a fashion magazine and documenting my journey on Instagram. Anyone of you are participating to this challenge?
I was fortunate enough to to take my sketchbook class to observe medical students dissect donor cadavers. These donors gave there bodies to science to further our knowledge of the human anatomy and to train our future doctors. We worked alongside the med students and anatomy fellows. It was a humbling and fascinating experience.
At first I planned on keeping this drawing realistic. But over a week ago I learned that a dear friend lost their sibling in an accident. Then this past weekend I worked on a small project that really struck a chord with me. I helped a friend and her son record a song she dedicated to her father, who had recently passed away as well. They sang "Let it Be" by the Beatles. There was so much emotion in the air. And for the first time ever I was brought to tears after I mixed a song. For the rest of the weekend I thought about my family a LOT. Especially my Parents. They've done so fucking much for me and my brother. It sucks that, only as an adult, I realized that every fiber of who I am, and where I am now is due to their love, support, and sacrifice. This piece goes out to the people you can count on. They're there for you no matter what the cost... No matter the pain, even if it's literally killing them. It's Purely out of Love and they wouldn't have it any other way❤️.
Doodle with Pentel brush, and posca! A little bit note to self. "In between goals is a thing called life that has to be lived and enjoyed." by Sid Caesar.
I always tell students to start a project with quick sketches to develop a shape language. Plus research, then you can start to generate ideas. This is one of who knows how many small sketches I'll do to start this project. #ideation #designsketches #pilo
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.
It's been a weird couple of years where social media became so toxic I'm just not online much. This place isn't like that so I have no excuse! So here's the CD cover for my new album "Junkyard Sam - OUTCAST", now available on Soundcloud & Spotify.
