Phoenix or Wyvern? Avian or Dragon? It doesn't matter anymore when Ido seems to hold characteristics of both. On a prompt, I tried reverting a very important feature: the eyes, back in a light cyan / blue colour. Suddenly with this step backwards, he was a step closer to life again.
A child stands on the boardwalk holding a helium balloon, depicting Donald Trump’s turkey neck tied to a string. The child stares up, contemplating the ugly balloon.
A vibrant, hand-drawn sunflower illustration featuring bold marker strokes and a rhythmic, blue-sky background. This piece captures the energy of a summer day through an impressionistic lens, blending warm yellows and oranges with cool, textured blues.
Lords of War - otep
With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us, God
More wars on foreign shores
More names for us to mourn
To misguide the misinformed
To ignore the sick and poor
Thus, we praise the lords of war
On our knees and beg for more
A fresh poison for the weak
Filthy little beasts
Bred to conform
It's the dwarfed souls of greedy men
Feculent, arrogant
That shackles our young to the cold concrete
And empty their guns into bodies
They scream "I'm not guilty"
They scream "I'm not guilty"
But cowards here are only what they fear
Shoot until the threat stops
I'd rather be in battle than at peace
I'd rather be a wolf than a sheep
I'd rather be in battle than slaughtered like cattle
The weak can sleep while
You were born to be led
That's what religion says
With a bifurcated tongue
America eats its young
Bullet-toothed, empty gods
Paralyze the minds and contest the thoughts
With devils everywhere
Bombs bursting in the air
Drones flown over thrones
Of bone and brimstone
Sabers rattle in the homes
Of the cowards and the crones
As they shackle our young
Blood stains the streets
Pigs empty their guns in their bodies
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
We rise in defiance
We won't remain silent
To triumph over tyrants
And police violence
Shoot until the threat stop
We're not guilty
Help us God
The lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
What is so terrible about a child screaming?
Why should it disturb us?
Just because we happen to be there to hear it?
What about the child who comes from an inadequate home, where he gets no encouragement from his parents
Where he doesn't have enough to wear, he doesn't have enough to eat, he comes to school hungry...
This beautiful, breathtaking #embracingnightmares
A detailed hand-drawn ink and wash illustration featuring two majestic dogs that look like statues perched above a historic gothic cathedral. This piece captures the timeless atmosphere of old European streets, blending architectural precision with the organic soul of a loyal companion cast in stone. Perfect for fans of urban sketching, dark academia, and classical monument art.
A vibrant fruit bowl filled with a variety of colorful mix of red fruits like strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries. The bright, bold colors create a striking contrast against the background.
These thoughts are in my mind daily. I take care of my 91 year old father. I'm certain he has dementia but I can't get his doctor to diagnose him. He can easily pass a competency test, even though he is no longer competent. My mind is messy, to say the least.
Behind the Russian Church there is an abyss.
The moss and the rubbish are slippery and jagged old tins glitter at the bottom. For hundreds of years they have piled up higher and higher against a long dark-red house without windows. The red house crawls round the rock and it is very significant that it has no windows. Behind the house is the harbour, a silent harbour with no boats in it. The little wooden door in the rock below the church is always locked.
Hold your breath when you run past it, I told Poyu. Otherwise Putrefaction will come out and catch you. Poyu always has a cold. He can play the piano and holds his hands in front of him as if he were afraid of being attacked or was apologizing to someone. I always scare him and he follows me because he wants to be scared.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
A whimsical depiction of an anthropomorphic frog making Freestyle motocross trick called "Seat Grab" in a classic penny farthing bicycle. The image is funny, humorous and minimalist, featuring a simple outline.
The Tool Bench marks my 50th canvas—completed exactly one year to the day after I finished my very first one. This piece is a tribute to work, memory, and the quiet corners where both creativity and responsibility live.
Drawn entirely freehand, it’s built like a snapshot of a lived-in workspace: mismatched tools, worn wood, scribbled reminders, and the little personal things that actually make a place yours. The clipboard holds a “Honey-Do” list that never seems to end. The Polaroid-style sketch of my wife sits taped to the wall like a reminder of why the work matters. The shadows on the back wall match the tools lying on the bench—suggesting a moment in progress, a task paused, life happening between motions.
I have been up and down this week with my art. One day I love it and in a few days I start to hate it. Its a roller coaster I'm sick of. But inside myself I hold many universes that I try to explore with my characters. One might hold vampires, while the other might hold mermaids. While others are looking for peace, lost treasures or finding their way home.
In “I Love Lamp,” Ty Patmore blends nostalgia, humor, and subtle unease into a surreal domestic scene where time, space, and memory feel slightly off-center. A lava lamp—softly glowing with drifting shapes—sits on a worn wooden table, acting as the sole beacon of warmth inside a room that is quietly falling apart. The wallpaper peels back to reveal fractured brick beneath, as if the structure itself is shedding its old skin.
A melting wall clock drips down the surface like time losing its grip, while a framed picture of a UFO drifting over pine trees hints that even the outside world may not be quite right. Every object bends reality just enough to make the viewer question whether this room is comforting… or unsettling.
A striking, high-contrast graphite study of a hand in the act of writing. Created in a rapid 45-minute sitting through self-observation, this piece captures the intricate anatomy and focused tension of the artist's own hand as it holds the pen. The tip being pencil the top being pen and finger tips slightly smudged incorporate all aspects of the mediums used to create it.
Up on a hill, deep in Deadwood
Lies an old shack, that fosters no good
Inside this shack floats a very old being
To seek it out, is to regret such a meeting
A blue floating skull, who brings sweet promises of doom
Sits all alone in a dark four corner room
Why is the reason, this being is there
Why does it beckon one to come near
Its lonely and bored
So it calls out to you
The skull was once mighty and powerful too
Causing great pain on subjects like you
The beast of an age
Caught by a mage
imprisoned in here
no longer to torment the world and spread fear
But just being caught wasn’t enough
It stifled its power but its will, was left uncorrupt
The skull, now a seeker of dreams
Destroyer of love, life, and of schemes #embracingnightmares
