Living, breathing, and creating with nature
When you wake up to the gentle sights and sounds of the pond, trees, plants, birds, bees, and dragonflies, inspiration flows effortlessly. So, when the owner asked for a menu design for @SarayaGoa Art Café, I thought—why not let nature speak for itself?
Using pen and ink, I captured the beauty of my mornings here—each stroke reflecting the lush surroundings that make Saraya unique. Instead of focusing on just food items, I filled the cover and inside pages with illustrations of the vibrant life around us. Dining here means eating among the green, surrounded by the diverse plants of our permaculture gardens.
This study is a tribute to the beauty that shapes every meal at Saraya.
I got three paintchip cards from a big paint company in the mail and decides to paint some moths over the holidays. This is the first one, done with acrylic paints, posca pens and karinmarkers.
Rocks from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson.
Two old men were performing autopsies on each other.And as they worked, putting this in a glass jar and that in a chamber pot, they talked of rocks; arthritic rocks, and rockswith rotten teeth; rocks with gout, and rocks with bad stomachs; rocks with hair in their ears, and rocks withscrotums hanging to their knees; rocks with gall stones, and rocks blind with cataracts.
Suddenly one of the old men says to the other, Did you know you were pregnant?No, says the other old man.Then holding up a rock, he says, Look what I found in your womb.Spank it, says the other old man, And see if it cries…
I painted this in Regent's Park, London. A yellow rose at sunset featuring a pink contrail in the sky. I have it available as prints, and prints on products on Redbubble, Society6, Zazzle, and Threadless. All sites are easily accessible via this link: linktr.ee/okhismakingart
Watercolour crayon, crayon, fineliner and acrylic paint... . . . . . .. ... . ... .. ... . .. ... .. ............ . ... . . The tree is weary crying for some help, its roots are drowning and the taps on full pelt. Its head cant speak the evil, hear the evil, see it. Whilst its occupiers point the fingers at each other and dont even believe it... .. ... . .... . .. .
