Rest in Power, Paul Reubens. I watched a lot of Pee-wee Herman as a young kid. As an adult, Paul Reuben's collection of erotic gay art made him interesting to me but misunderstood by many people. Any way you take him, he was funny and made many people laugh. I painted a scene from Pee-wee's Big Adventure, a classic Pee-wee movie from 1985. I love the California scenery and am happy with how the landscape turned out.
Often I am given to making marks on paper that reflect the objects I see coming towards me as I gaze out the front car window. I do this exercise as a passenger of course. The goal is not the end product, but the process of connecting what I see with motor control. The product is an indication of movement and energy. Give it a try!
And now the Worry Wolf can stick by your side and bring ease to your everyday worries. A doodle, turned into a weatherproof clear sticker, cloaking lonely water bottles worldwide. Thanks for looking!
I wanted to capture an introspective feeling and show the Detroit River's expansiveness. I went with a late summer sunset vibe with lots of warm pinks and cool blues.
A handful of Brit flicks have been showing up on Disney+ lately, and one of them I watched recently had Luke Perry of all folks in it... the film in question is called ‘The Beat Beneath My Feet’ in case you’re curious.
In all seriousness though, British films with American actors in them as a lead/central character will forever and always fascinate me, much like Luke Perry’s birth name did! Rest well good sir and thanks for everything.
Take it how you want. You either give everything to social media, or it takes everything from you. In the end, you are left naked and hollow. I wanted to make this a simple composition at its core. The image is more about the message.
Times Square took forever to put together, I think the perspective is off just a bit. Overall, I think I did well with shading and depth. I am also improving on drawing/painting the human form. I wish I could trust in shapes and form and go a bit more abstract, but I think that will come with experience.
I do generally put pen (or some kind of tool), to paper (or some kind of surface), every day, but I'm really TRYING to do it purposefully in one singular location (journal). Here is a successful attempt from that particular day.
I'm also super lazy, which means I never go up to my actual studio and only use what's out on my computer desk.
“In Caribbean mythology, the lusca or luska is the term given to one of the most feared sea monsters in the region. A deadly creature that prowls the deep and feeds on the unsuspecting. A being or a pod of beings that scour the Gulf eating up all in its wake. The lusca is a chimera; a mismatch of animal parts. A conglomerate of some of the Caribbean’s most feared creatures. It is a cryptid that said to hunt and prowl the Gulf and areas near the Mexican shore. Luscas are one of the lesser known cryptids of the deep. They are also one of the most fascinating not only on account of its fearsome symmetry but of the mystery that surrounds them...”
This line from the Stephin Merritt episode of the 'She's A Talker' podcast (referring to Stephen Sondheim plot-lines) got my imagination ticking in overdrive
As we approach the end of winter, who knows where we’ll end up next? Still cautiously optimistic here...
As long as there’s stuff to inspire us all, it can’t be all that bad?
Digital is great -- for composition and color. But for line art? I don't think I can ever give up the fountain pen. This was drawn with a Sailor King of Pen (M) and Sailor 1911L (EF) fountain pens using Pilot Black ink. Yes, sacrilege. Pilot ink in a Sailor. But I have some Kiwa Guro arriving soon!
"At 6 o'clock the window squeaks and mum calls time" from Graham's Up the Tree. It must have been strange for mbpardy to see his his story interpreted through my illustrations... but page by page these characters came to life, with both of our contributions somehow adding up to something bigger.
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/
