past

Well... My school got closed for 2 weeks due to COVID-19. I think that the virus is a relatively serious thing, but closing schools isn’t going to do anything. The virus will still be there when we come back. I’m glad for the break, but I know I will find myself bored at some point. This means a lot of random paintings and drawings :)

9x12in on pastel paper

Thought I'd give oil pastels a try and honestly I really like them they are pretty fun to work with.

This is a self-portrait. I didn't use a mirror or a picture here. This is what I look like in my own memories. It's a bit misleading, I think I am skinnier than the drawing suggests, but that doesn't feel like me. I have been overweight for years and I feel like I am too skinny at the moment. I feel like I should be curvier like in the drawing. This is about body-image, body-dysmorphia even. I do have those clothes, glasses and haircut. This work is pastel on paper (it's quite big, but I don't have a measure closeby)

A silhouette of a tree in the moon light .It may looks simple but inctricated with repeated strikes for leaves . back ground done with oilpastels crayons.

This two horses are bit older but still not so bad in my eyes. Will draw when have my other artwork done again a horse... maybe some differences to past. The left horse was from a friend a horse. "Buddy" unfortunately dont living anymore.

Portrait

Toothpaste from the webcomic "Toothpaste and People"

I'm working on a series of childhood stuffed animals versus child monsters (i.e. the safety of home vs the real world and its bullies). I haven't done the monsters yet, but here are the stuffed animals. I drew them from memory as opposed to referencing what Cheer Bear and Rainbow Brite's dog looked like. I looked after. I didn't get them quite right. That's OK; I think the wonkiness adds to the charm. These are drawn in reverse for a woodcut effect, then scanned and printed and gone over with gouache and watercolor.

Soft pastel on a paper (A3) - Corvus

Black and white pastel pencil drawing of a lynx on black A4 150GSM paper

Portrait done with pastel chalk crayons with mixed media board strait

Oil pastel and graphite pencil on cardboard

Marker, and pastel.

Recipe Card Design I created for my sister this past Christmas.

She's also a daredevil

Family guinea pig

Real life

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.

Myself and many other pals did precisely this not long ago! Happy belated Beltane one and all

Years ago, I sketched Gibby at work—pencil in hand, bold strokes alive with motion. I caught them from over the shoulder: just the back of their head, the soft curve of their face, and that focused arm bringing something into being. They were 9 or 10 then, already showing the spark of creativity and concentration that pointed toward who they’d become. Now in their mid-20s, Gibby is thoughtful, insightful—quick to listen, slow to speak, and wired to process the world with care. Their path has been remarkable: two degrees in 2.5 years, no debt. That didn’t happen by accident. It took grit, German immersion schooling, 16 college credits earned in high school, and testing out of 24 more once at university. That’s Gibby—quietly determined, resourceful, and steady. But their story isn’t just academic. Gibby’s always been gifted with their hands—drawn to set design, locksmithing, welding. Trades they wanted to pursue early on, and still feel pulled toward. They’re at a bike shop now. It’s not the dream, but it fits: their hands know how to build, repair, and reshape the world. There’s been frustration—maybe even anger—that we didn’t let them follow the trade route right away. I get that now. Life veers, and sometimes the path chosen isn't the one imagined. But Gibby’s resilience—their ability to adapt and press on—is what I admire most. They’ve embraced their journey with honesty, stepping into their identity as a they/them person, unafraid to define success in their own terms. That takes courage. I’m proud of them—not for a résumé, but for who they are. This old drawing isn’t just a memory—it’s a thread connecting past to present. A reminder that the creative spark, the steady hands, the deep soul I saw back then is still shining. So here’s to you, Gibby: the kid who sketched with fire and the adult who still shapes the world with quiet brilliance. Your value has never been about the path you’re on. It’s about the person you are. And I’ll be here, cheering you on—every step of the way.

Lino cut print over pastel. The story goes: The bird fell in love with the whale the first time she saw him break through the ocean’s surface, sunlight dancing on his back. From high above, she sang to him, and deep below, he answered with a song as old as the tides. She longed to dive, to join him in the rolling blue. He wished to rise, to fly beside her in the endless sky. But air and water would not trade places. So each day, at dawn and dusk, they met at the edge of their worlds—she on the wind, he in the waves—singing a love song carried by the breeze and the tide, never together but never apart.

Making sense of a recent donation in a charity shop I volunteer at…

Taking some inspiration from some things me and my girlfriend talked about regarding old highs in one’s past and asking yourself if revisiting them later on in life is worth it… the usual stuff I guess.