A 30 minute sketch of a screwdriver. Done on printer paper using only a mechanical pencil. A highlighter for a splash of color and a Kleenex for shading.
(2B pencil on 137mm x 125mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
The Tool Bench marks my 50th canvas—completed exactly one year to the day after I finished my very first one. This piece is a tribute to work, memory, and the quiet corners where both creativity and responsibility live.
Drawn entirely freehand, it’s built like a snapshot of a lived-in workspace: mismatched tools, worn wood, scribbled reminders, and the little personal things that actually make a place yours. The clipboard holds a “Honey-Do” list that never seems to end. The Polaroid-style sketch of my wife sits taped to the wall like a reminder of why the work matters. The shadows on the back wall match the tools lying on the bench—suggesting a moment in progress, a task paused, life happening between motions.
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.
(2B pencil on 140mm x 130mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
“Revising the Future” captures the exact moment creation becomes correction. Using my own drawing hand as the model, I built this piece through a cycle of sketch, pause, observe, and refine — letting the act of drawing guide the artwork itself. The eraser actively lifts portions of the page, symbolizing the choices we adjust as we grow, the mistakes we confront, and the quiet courage it takes to reshape the path ahead.
A 20x36 canvas A surreal shoreline unfolds beneath a weathered lighthouse, where reality bends into myth. Planes drift through muted skies, a UFO lifts a van from the cliffs, and the sea itself seems alive—its waves whispering forgotten tales. Between the moon’s watchful eye and the wreckage below, every fragment hints at a story untold, a dream caught between the tide and time.
