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.
This is just an idea I'm playing with after I recently reconnected with an old friend. He's a painter but has this huge passion for mushroom collecting. I have few more ideas for a little series now.
Found a shady spot to sketch a little street in our beautiful city of San Francisco. I have been surprised to learn how much fun vehicles are to draw. My four year old loves them.
I have a good bit more to do with this but I thought I’d post the progress so far. First time using real software besides stuff like paint. Sketched out the bones of it in pen and scanned to myself.
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.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
Everyone thinks that they love will have a happy ending, but those are the lucky ones. What about those who have their heart played just to get the pleasure fulfilled. What happens to those who kept promises but never fulfilled them, just forgot them like they meant nothing, no memories of them were made, it had nothing to do with them. This picture that I developed at this stage of a person's life shows that they don't ask for nothing beside a happy ending, sitting together and enjoying each other's company. What was the need of stealing someone's heart, use them for your own desires and then just throw it away? What did they get at the end? It was easy for them to make promises, gaining their trust, building hopes but harder for them to prove it. Day by day the pain kills them inside but to the world they are nothing more but alive and energetic, but who knows what’s happening from the inside, when they are just trying to live each day until death comes. At this moment of time no one can heal the cuts, them deceitful memories by the one who once said they will never hurt you or leave you. But I guess one day everyone does leave you, maybe today or tomorrow. She was told to forget him because he was nothing beside a memory. He wasn’t worth it. He walked away from her, but maybe she was too caught in his memories.
Had a thought to revisit one of my old worlds created during the creative streak over years ago. It was a world built from the primordial creative juices in my head, put from uncountable inspirations and knowledge bases learned from who knows forever.
Here is a perspective of how a world is built from the rise of some fundamental ideas. What happens if you consider a world suspended in nigh microgravity conditions, a supercharged atmospheric envelope orbiting a twin neutron star system, gravitational suspension, intense magnetic fields and radiation? A extreme and chaotic environment bordering an impossible miracle, in a constant state of freefall.
Not gonna lie, worldbuilding in detail is not easy. I don't have the mental and time resources these days, to expand a world in such intricate detail. Each of the scribbles above are mostly ideas of local flora and fauna that push the limits of my science knowledge base combined with accumulated general knowledge. Some of the concepts here are bordering magical fantasy, without even getting into the residing intelligent lifeforms.
The handsome Talenthalus, consort of the Queen of Magic and her personal guard. Defender of the realms, he is the only one to remain at the queen’s side when the war against darkness is lost and they must begin anew, over and over, cycle after cycle.
its igital painting over a real model nude, if you have read DUNE of Frank Hervert, even exist the movie n the series,its the son of Paul Muadib the messaia of arrakis, his son took the path he couldn take, the golden path!!
I'm not completely happy with the coloring on this, so I might redo it later. I really wanted to take my hand at the more colorful old comic style for Two Face, but I'm terrible at working with pinks.
