A solitary rowboat drifts across a muted, restless surface, unanchored and unattended. Rendered in charcoal, ink, and subtle white highlights, the vessel exists in a quiet state of motion—moving, yet going nowhere. The surrounding water is suggested through loose, rhythmic lines, emphasizing atmosphere and isolation over realism.
The boat is sharply defined against the hazy background, its dark contours and interior shadows contrasting with the soft, unsettled environment. Oars rest unevenly, implying recent human presence while reinforcing absence. The name Perditas—Latin for “lost”—is affixed to the hull, anchoring the emotional weight of the piece without explanation.
This work explores themes of solitude, uncertainty, and endurance. With no shoreline or destination in sight, Perditas becomes a reflection on drifting—physically, mentally, and emotionally—inviting the viewer to confront their own sense of direction within an undefined space.
Another addition to my Tool Series—this time a tape measure, the symbol of accuracy, patience, and work ethic. I signed it with Patmore 25 as a nod to the years it has taken to become the artist I am today. Just graphite, ink, and intention… transformed into something that feels alive.
This piece continues my ongoing tool series, focusing on objects shaped by use, precision, and repetition. The speed square—an essential instrument of measurement and accuracy—is rendered with attention to wear, markings, and subtle imperfections left by time and handling.
Isolated against a minimal background, the tool becomes both subject and symbol: a quiet reflection on structure, angles, and the human need to measure and make sense of the physical world. Like the others in this series, it honors everyday labor and the overlooked beauty found in functional objects.
This is another dragon. They're the Bringer of Great Destiny, and basically tell you you're destined for good things. It was designed by my sibling, and this is a redesign I made. Sorry that it's hard to see. My camera is bad and my house is dark.
Pipe Wrench — 16×20, graphite & acrylic accents
The next addition to my growing Tool Series. # 6
A classic pipe wrench rendered with tight line work, layered shading, and subtle grit that brings out every ridge and tooth. I leaned into the industrial personality of the tool—solid, heavy, built for work—and let the shadows do the storytelling. It’s a tribute to the objects that shaped my childhood and still live on in my shop today.
A portrait of everyday power. This hammer isn’t just a tool—it’s a symbol of the work ethic that built me, the late nights, the factory shifts, and the determination behind every canvas. Graphite, grit, and precision shading bring out every dent and edge. Simple object, serious presence.
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.
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.
“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.
Post-Apocalyptic Pastime
In a world where decay replaces diamonds and cracked walls echo memories of youth, a lone figure stands ready to swing. Post-Apocalyptic Pastime reimagines America’s favorite game as an act of defiance—finding hope, peace, and play amid the ruins. The graffiti and broken skyline hint at what was lost, but the stance of “LEE 01” reminds us that even in the aftermath, the spirit to keep playing endures.
