Shortly after graduating in medicine doctor Illness concluded that the treatment of people does not make sense since he constantly coming new ill patients. The great desire to explore the state of the disease, he began his patients exposed to hazardous situations contagion and infection. Curious and eager for knowledge about the most serious illnesses, supported and developed the existing disease in their patients. He did not hesitate to post the wrong diagnosis, prescribing the drugs that have not been treat difficult health situation, on the contrary, they encouraged further development of the disease. After several years, he was arrested and charged with numerous deaths. Very indignant, told the court that great scientists have never been properly accepted by a society full of prejudices and petty soul.
Two wicker chairs in the sun.
One for the waiting,
one for the hoped-for.
The table between them
holds its silence,
its place set for bread or talk.
I draw what is here—
lines quick and unerasable—
and what is not here,
her presence,
waits with me in the white of the page.
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.
segments , steps, blindfolded, a difference of language between the body and something subtle , lack of movement.click -switch! the union of body and soul , the disappearance of the blindfold from the eyes and the flight between the immensely endless bright layers of fields .I am very curious about the sophisticated nature of things and phenomena: myself, people the Universe, I like to consider and feel them like a multi-layered cake, where each layer has its own history, worldview, and even its own temperature. I love to listen lectures of charismatic lovers of philosophy, design, music, human psychology and I enjoy the excitement it brings and the birth of new layers inside me. I rarely manage to silence my inner critic and for many years I have been learning how to be able to do it productively. I am still in the process though. I treat my life as a long voyage, changing directions and yes - sometimes those around me. I understand that even 24 hours a day is not enough and I definitely realize that my life today is much more colorful and interesting than when I was 20 years old.
I did this artwork for a public art exhibition called "Home is where the Art is". Initially the drawing was supposed to just be a open mouth with a snake coming out of it but I felt that it lacked a story and a strong enough message so I drew the other snakes on and added the 2 other faces. The story behind this image is entirely up to the viewer but my take on it was that different people react differently to certain information, my main focus was the distribution of secrets and since many teenager refer to people that let their secrets loose as snakes I thought why not depict it in that form. The drawing displays three reactions to learning another's secret, one passes the secret on to another, the other defends it ferociously in your face but lets it slip loose when nobodies looking and the other receives the information and holds onto it
Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence
This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete.
But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains.
When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing.
So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal?
Perhaps presence itself is the real art.
Another "Sick Day Scarecrow" I did recently getting over a cold. There's too much comic stuff to get into to explain this, but in summary its a parallel universe Scarecrow I decided to design who is more of a superhero. Kinda.
You know you can always count on me, friend
Like no one else, I've gotten used to the coldness of the stone
So I can be with you often
Silver rain will wash away the tears of the Dread Sky
I will rise with the sun…
I will rise with the sun…
- Valyrym.
Referring to the story "The Dragon In The Dungeon"
Some say I'm hitting the point.
So I strike again.
When the Writer dies, the World creates a seemingly imperceptible void, a void waiting to be filled, greedily begging others for revelation.
For the next One to take its place in this great spiral.
Light.
Narrow tunnel.
Echoes.
Arise.
Rest in Peace
Coyote - Of The Wilds was a talented writer, author of many fantastic stories which he never managed to finish.
He was able to convey true, deep emotion through words, through many unfinished stories. Now, through the ending of the Story.
These stories have contributed a lot to my life in 2020, as I wrote about in “Split Of… Personality”. Like for many others, he inspired me to create. I wrote “Split Of Fate”, deleted it, now I'm bringing it back to life, but I also have other plans - regarding the stories of Of The Wilds… but more on that later…
This was difficult to draw. Difficult without getting eyes wet.
Just a quick doodle…
Well, if I were nearby, I would place an apple on his grave.
A horizon of chalk—black sky heavy with silence, gold earth glowing with embered breath.
Between them, a thin line of turquoise, the pause where one world ends and another begins.
It is not sky, nor sea, nor sand alone. It is the threshold—a doorway, where silence teaches and light remembers.
Stand here long enough, and you may hear it breathe.
inking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
I was going through some of my old work from a few years ago and I wanted to see the difference. I uploaded the original sketch. I like my art and my style. I see the growth. I. Am. Happy!
Behold the Chair
(inspired by Wendell Berry)
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
The chair does not strive.
It does not speak loudly.
It simply is—
ready to receive,
to hold what comes,
to honor the silence.
This drawing does not shout.
It listens.
It does not disturb the quiet—
it joins it.
Like a prayer whispered
to the One who listens back,
this mark is a presence,
not a performance.
Prepare to meet thy maker! A test of a 3D model I made, into the art package with a bit of editing. I've been thinking about making a digital comic in this style...
