The best that I know in summer is cottage life in Finland countryside. This is the image from the lakeside. Angling on a pier in perfect style. The color of the fishing hat and waterlily make a perfect match.
Ever have one of those days when you want to pull your hair out? Here it is in black and white! I was experimenting with white ink in a journal with black pages.
"He'd forgotten how to keep his head from popping off in outer space. Why was he here again?" ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Dealing with Blue, a young adult romance.
"It meant something good when it was over. I need my space." ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Dealing with Blue, a YA love story with small town fun.
I've started a series in my sketchbook...actually, it's a series inside of a series. The series started as an idea I called "The Hidden Octopus". It's an Instagram account where I post quirky little ideas I draw with my Sharpie and the watercolor it to make it pretty. Then I thought I'd start a series inside of that where I do Song Lyrics that I really like. This is one of the first in that series.
The Ford Taurus was the most boring car I could think of. This selection of doodles are all just ink on paper, applied with a brush. The black circle behind the cats was Sharpie. I had a design back there, decided I super-hated-it, and then screwed the whole thing up. Ah well. The cats are still okay.
I love how these nesting dolls came out. I'm also into the Dakota Fanning inspired piece on the left. Dakota's character in The Alienist is a lot of fun. I'm glad she seems to have come out of child acting fairly unscathed. We don't hear a lot of stories of her gallavanting around LA, thieving & putting substances up her schnoz. That's a pleasant change of pace for a celebrity.
A commissioned piece of original artwork for a client that I drew which incorporates various elements of strength (as chosen by the client). It also illustrates that even in dark times a light will come shining through.
This piece began as a multi-colored abstract . . . but it was nowhere . . . nothing . . . and had no essence. So, I tried to take it in the direction of a landscape . . . and that was horrible. I gave the entire piece a whitewash using a white acrylic paint pen. And then the idea popped into my head to Doodle over the colored background. The title reflects the fact that the piece only came to life with the addition of the Doodles . . .
(fineliner pen on the back of a 55mm x 85mm business card) I accidently shredded this piece. It was a nice little drawing on the back of a business card, so it was annoying to lose it.
This week’s been an interesting one for socialising in my world, no denying it. If I’m not getting acquainted with new folks at work or at my art clubs, it’s reconnecting with people I haven’t seen in 20+ years… certainly informed today’s piece, without a doubt!
The story behind this is that when my little sister and I were kids, we invented a game called Blammer. You duct tape small trashcans to your back and try to slam a sock ball into your opponents basket. We used tennis rackets for defense. We used to terrorize our parents with all the running and yelling in the house. We're in our 30's now and try and play when we see each other. I call her Chicken and she calls me Ducky. Which is why we're are riding birds. One of my favorite pieces I've ever done. A birthday present for her.
A child stands on the boardwalk holding a helium balloon, depicting Donald Trump’s turkey neck tied to a string. The child stares up, contemplating the ugly balloon.
A vibrant, hand-drawn sunflower illustration featuring bold marker strokes and a rhythmic, blue-sky background. This piece captures the energy of a summer day through an impressionistic lens, blending warm yellows and oranges with cool, textured blues.
In fact, she [Mummy] said after a while, we have gone into hibernation. Nobody can get in any longer and no one can get out!
I looked carefully at her and understood that we were saved. At last we were absolutely safe and protected.
This menacing snow had hidden us inside in the warm for ever and we didn't have to worry a bit about what went on there outside. I was filled with enormous relief, and I shouted, I love you I LOVE YOU, and took all the cushions and threw them at her and laughed and shouted and Mummy threw them all back and in the end we were lying on the floor just laughing.
Then we began our underground life. We walked around in our nighties and did nothing. Mummy didn't draw. We were bears with pine needles in our stomachs and anyone who dared come near our winter lair was torn to pieces. We were lavish with the wood, and threw log after log on to the fire until it roared.
Sometimes we growled. We let the dangerous world outside look after itself, it had died, it had fallen out into space. Only Mummy and I were left.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
24x30 canvas A weathered steer skull fixed against a wagon wheel, drawn in graphite, charcoal, and ink, evokes the grit and resolve of westward migration. The skull stands as a quiet emblem of endurance, sacrifice, and survival, while the wheel anchors the piece in motion and passage. Westbound ’49 references the year many headed west in search of promise, capturing the stark beauty and cost of that journey in restrained black and white.
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.
