Canvas mounted on wooden frame. Size: 25 x 30 cm Materials: acrylic, Chinese ink, brush, pen and marker. Is sold the original piece. For this reason, there may be slight differences from one piece to another.
Made in Adobe Draw on the iPad. So its vector. Autumn colors. I need flowers or other pretty stuff in my life now, to not run into the same old winter depression. Oh, why am I not born somewhere with more light? I don't like it, when we only have 8 light hours and they are not so light at all. And I don't like going by airplane to have a small holiday, since its bad for pollution. What to do? Flowers, lots of them..
my first ever piece of art i sold was this piece, i think around 2012 when i started going into more illustrative based work. its great to look back and see the progression and level i have progressed. i remember thinking this was the best i could do but now if i did something on the same level i wouldnt be so happy. i got a lot of good feedback off this piece and do plan on recreating it one day :))...
This is old (2007). I used to work at the ad agency that had the Harley-Davidson account for a number of years. I always carry around a Moleskine sketchbook and take meeting notes on one side while doodling on the page next to it. This doodle ended up being used extensively in the Harley-Davidson "Dark Custom" campaign as well as on a line of Dark Custom Motorclothes.
It say's "FUCK YEAH" in it and they never noticed. :)
Against a vibrant yellow sky, the boldly colored, circular shapes suggest a multitude of orbs, each with its own unique style and design, floating across the vast universe.
The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table.
We traced them. Pushed them. Held them.
Then we let the colors lead:
-Red for emotion.
-Yellow for curiosity.
-Blue for memory.
Each color came with music, with story, with space.
At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence.
Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.
4 year old Henry engaged fully with thick applications of watercolor and oil pastels. He said it was a stormy sea with a small boat. This was at the onset of the pandemic, when we were all a bit uncertain and confined to our homes. I was reminded of an insight by Kierkegaard written in the early 1800s: “When the sailor is out on the sea and everything is changing around him, as the waves are continually being born and dying, he does not stare into the depths of these, since they vary. He looks up at the stars. And why? Because they are faithful – as they stand now, they stood for the patriarchs, and will stand for coming generations. By what means then does he conquer changing conditions? Through the eternal: By means of the eternal, one can conquer the future, because the eternal is the foundation of the future.”
What happens in your life that causes you to be surprised? I have a friend who told me that no one is blind-sided. I also have a friend who tells me: 'The greatest lies we tell are the ones we tell ourselves'. It is easy to filter in a certain kind of lie that support these ideologies. I have a very valued friend who tells me that we live in an upside-down world. What is real? What is upside-down? Draw what you see. draw what you know. Be authentic. Peace.
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 few years ago I think I drew this using a photo of a dog for reference. Then I posted it in a robot community on Reddit and some random 3D printed it!
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.
A 20x36 canvas A surreal shoreline unfolds beneath a weathered lighthouse, where reality bends into myth. Planes drift through muted skies, a UFO lifts a van from the cliffs, and the sea itself seems alive—its waves whispering forgotten tales. Between the moon’s watchful eye and the wreckage below, every fragment hints at a story untold, a dream caught between the tide and time.
