Hey boos! This is a random drawing I made because I was bored. Also, my history teacher is making pork in our class and I decided ya'll needed to know that. (it smells good and Im a hungry big back)
Hey Boos! This was a little doodle my bestie @CutePanda asked me to draw! This is my oc Peekaboo, in a beanbag chair (that are her two fave colors, pastel blue and pink) and she's playing animal crossing because yes! (PS her favorite villager is a deer named erik)
Edit: Man I just realized how much this drawing sucks.
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/
...supported by some bioluminescent particles. I drew the glowy effect with a merchandise neon orange pastel pencil that I probably stole somewhere. The rest is a simple black fineliner on drawing paper.
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.
