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.
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.
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/
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.
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.
Caged is a collection of healing through deep inner journey work. Note: this is part of the process included while writing the final draft of my upcoming novel.
It totally bypassed my mind that last night I would be off to see Gary Numan with my uncle. The perks of having both an over-active work life and a social one too...
I’m coming out of another one of those periods where I’ve drew or doodled very little (all the other projects on the go until now!), but as always I got my mojo back in the nick of time, it seems. :)
Same old stuff here for now!
Apparently, Blixa Bargeld of Einsturzende Neubaten and Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds fame actually did this to his school back when he was a lad! I needed an idea for a convoluted weird-as-they-come title, and after reading that story I knew I had something, heheheh :)
