The man with a vast red hat met a flower on the pad and asked, "Are you my dad?" The flower said, "No. I'm not the one, but I'll pretend I'm your dad if you'll pretend you're my sun."
Doodles and notes I started at a regional NJ chapter of SCBWI conference this past weekend. Then just kept adding stuff to the page this week. I learned a lot and met some great people. Looking forward to June!
Man oh man, it's been a week. The chaos is strong with this one. It was really fun to draw this, there's something so calming about shading with graphite; it felt like the only time I was present this week. But hey, I suppose that's why art is here. As a side note, thank you so much for 70 followers! It's truly incredible to part of an amazing community of artists, and I genuinely appreciate everyone's support and feedback. Here's to creating more art!
Rad experience joining a local drawing group for the first time yesterday although I didn't realise how inconvenient my backpack was going to be, it made me slow to set up / pack up and a few of us had to organise a locker at the gallery as we didn't know backpacks weren't allowed so I spent most of today sewing a bag/sketchbook cover which fits an A4 sketchbook, pencils, id and phone and also has some backing in it so I can easily sketch on my lap without dropping my stuff all over the place. I'm going to do a bit more work on my weird comic book page tonight but in the mean time this is my sea serpent digitally coloured, he lives at Apollo Bay and likes to sleep camouflaged amongst the lifesaver rings.
Illustration inspired of Hokusai woodblock print The great wave. First a big version i draw for commission. Second one is sketchbook version i do for Inktober prompt ”wave”
Mixed media. Acrylic, pencil, digital. This is a piece from the book “Mail Me Art - Medium Without A Message” by @littlechimpsociety. I think it was the second call for entries/book.There are now 4 books filled with awesome art drawn and painted on outsides of envelopes and packages by artists all over the world who then mailed them to the UK totally exposed to the postal service. The original was all analog. I brought this into Procreate and reworked it. I may do more when I get a chance but I’m pretty satisfied with it now.
Overwhelmed...started as a little tiny sketchbook sketch and turned into my statement about recent events. It complements my previous post "Fevered Dreams." Bic ballpoint pen on archival 9” x 12” paper, scanned into Photoshop where the text overlay was added. Model: Jose
Monthly theme was "GOLD", so I thought about gold as a hedonistic symbol and meaning.
Almost religious. I imagined a society praising hedonism as their religion.
An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
The new Hasselblads are so dang out of my range! I can't even swing a used one. This is the first time using the oil brush in @procreate on a final illustration. I have to admit i didn’t want it to end.
