Just some time wasters I did. I would explain it, but it would require me to go into way too much comic nerd information. Its essentially a comic character that I redesigned (no its not the Joker). I really love concept art, and character design. I'm really not good at it, but I delve into it periodically for fun.
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 old (2007). I used to work at the ad agency that had the Harley-Davidson account for a number of years. I always carry around a Moleskine sketchbook and take meeting notes on one side while doodling on the page next to it. This doodle ended up being used extensively in the Harley-Davidson "Dark Custom" campaign as well as on a line of Dark Custom Motorclothes.
It say's "FUCK YEAH" in it and they never noticed. :)
It’s taken me until the ripe old age of 33 to do a Jungle Book tribute, in spite of it being my all-time favourite film along with The Mask and Baloo the Bear (along with Donald Duck) my favourite Disney character but alas… better late to the party than not show up at all, am I right?
I do these in alcohol inks but I have pages and pages of doodles in B/W and Colored Pencil or Markers in my sketch books of these far away things....oteresa
More random drawings I worked on. This is a Great Whale with a whole ecosystem within the illustration. I enjoy these. Artwork by Janelle Dimmett. 2026. www.janelledimmett.com
A quiet study of restraint at altitude. Framed through an aircraft window, the world below drifts by while the interior remains still—objects worn, familiar, and waiting. Subtle distortions in perspective and muted tones emphasize the tension between motion and pause, progress and endurance. This piece captures the discipline of waiting while suspended between departure and arrival, where patience is not passive, but practiced under pressure.
In this memory-driven piece, Patmore reconstructs the bathroom from his third-grade elementary school, capturing the sterile brightness, the tiled repetition, and the institutional reminder to “WASH YOUR HANDS.”
But the scene is not pristine — a leaky sink, an out-of-order stall, and a taped-up sign reveal the quiet decay behind childhood places we assume were orderly and safe.
Patmore blends nostalgia with unease, transforming a simple restroom into a study of what it means to grow up: how the lessons we learn early (“hygiene,” discipline, responsibility) stay with us even after the walls begin to crack. The small pop of blue tape emphasizes the DIY fragility of rules meant to guide us.
This piece stands at the intersection of memory and maintenance — of spaces, of bodies, and of ourselves.
