pie

Nostalgia in the night piercing at the heart of loss.

An old piece. It was previously very rough, but recent improvements in photo editing skills made it look better and better as time passed. Probably... my impression of a wondrous dream world? Music inspiration: Metrik - Freefall (Ft. Reija Lee)

para el día 3 de maycean hoy le toca a atardecer para este día decidí dibujar a una pequeña gaviota cerca de un muelle viendo cómo empieza el atardecer a lo lejos

I made this drawing for the birthday of voice actor Cesar Garduza. He is known for voicing Lynn Loud Sr. in The Loud House franchise, Preacher in War for the Planet of the Apes, Rocky Robinson (second voice) in The Amazing World of Gumball, Mr. 9 in One Piece, and Neil in OK, K.O.! Let's Be Heroes. In Mixels, he was the Latin Spanish voice of the two-headed Mixel who, like the other Muchos, has a big appetite, better known as Vaka-Waka. We wish him a great birthday

A cheerful sun rises over a blue horizon with colorful rays spreading outwards, accompanied by the text "happy new day!" in playful lettering. a vibrant and optimistic piece of art.

I am an art teacher with a master’s degree—trained by brilliant professors who believed that art could do more than decorate walls. I offer safe spaces for teenagers to grow—nourishing soil where their imaginations can take root. And yet… I am assigned to hallway duty. This is compulsory education, after all. So I sit—posted like a sentinel—watching young lives stream past. “Get to class,” I say with a smile and a nudge. The system wants attendance; I’m hungry for presence. Armed not with a whistle or clipboard, but with a pen— my scribble’s soft insurgency. The hallway stretches out like a geometric hymn. Columns and corners chant structure. Teenagers swirl past—half-formed galaxies of limbs and laughter— their orbits chaotic, their gravity pulling time forward. I begin to draw. Not their tardiness, but their motion. A shoulder. A blur of sneakers. A tilted head chasing freedom. Feet flickering like seconds. Each mark a pulse. Each smudge a breath. My paper becomes a seismograph of seeing— trembling gently through the mundane. This isn’t about making art for a frame or a feed. It’s about refusing to leak away in the fluorescent hum of obligation. It’s a quiet mutiny against the clock. I do this on long car rides, too (passenger side, mind you). Letting the lines grow wild, jagged, and unapologetic. Not for polish— but for presence. This is how I remember I’m still alive. Still growing. Still watching. Still choosing to see. Because sometimes mental health looks like a piece of scrap paper, a moving pen, and the simple, sacred act of marking time with wonder.

Pyotr Ilich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893) At 9:30, Tchaikovsky set to work—composing at the piano only after he had dealt with any proofs or his correspondence, chores that he disliked. “Before setting about the pleasant task,” his brother noted, “Pyotr Ilich always hastened to get rid of the unpleasant.” After lunch he went for a long walk, regardless of the weather. His brother writes, “Somewhere at sometime he had discovered that a man needs a two-hour walk for his health, and his observance of this rule was pedantic and superstitious, as though if he returned five minutes early he would fall ill, and unbelievable misfortunes of some sort would ensue.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Truly there would be reason to go mad were it not for music.” ― Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky “If you do not want to write, at least spit on a piece of paper, put it in an envelope, and send it to me. You are not taking any notice of me at all. God forgive you – all I wanted was a few words from you.” ― Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky #dailyrituals #inktober #PeterTchaikovsky @masoncurrey

Years ago, while digging through old journals and sketches, I stumbled across a quick, scribbled drawing of two pears. Beneath it, I'd written a raw and honest note: "Ann is pissed. I think it's because she's uncertain about me, us, life itself. She just ran into my car with the van. She says it was an accident, but she seems happier now—almost like it was cathartic. . . Like sex." At the time, I scribbled this in frustration, feeling a deep disconnect between us. Intimacy had become a confusing and distant concept in our relationship. The pears I'd sketched were rough and scratchy, charged with my chaotic feelings. Looking back, I see how emotions can drive us to strange actions, some intentional, some accidental, often leaving us oddly relieved afterward. Humans are complex, fascinating beings, navigating messy emotions and messy relationships, sometimes colliding intentionally or unintentionally, seeking relief in unexpected ways. Perhaps the pears were my subconscious pun on "pair," reflecting the awkward, confusing way Ann and I were bumping through life together—making messes, but occasionally finding strange humor and genuine catharsis in the chaos. I've learned to smile gently at the rawness of our humanity, appreciating even our scratchy sketches and emotional collisions. They're reminders that life, relationships, and our own hearts are never simple, but they're authentically human. Here's to embracing life's unexpected catharsis and finding humor in our imperfections.

Herman Melville (1819–1891) "I rise at eight—thereabouts—& go to my barn—say good-morning to the horse, & give him his breakfast. (It goes to my heart to give him a cold one, but it can’t be helped.) Then, pay a visit to my cow—cut up a pumpkin or two for her, & stand by to see her eat it—for it’s a pleasant sight to see a cow move her jaws—she does it so mildly & with such a sanctity." - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “I would prefer not to.” ― Herman Melville, Bartleby the Scrivener “A smile is the chosen vehicle of all ambiguities.” ― Herman Melville, Pierre; or, The Ambiguities #dailyrituals #inktober #HermanMelville @masoncurrey

"Pisces Koi" is a bold and intricate black-and-white ink piece that blends symbolism with fluid motion. A koi fish, known for its resilience and transformation, weaves through a bed of blooming roses, creating a contrast between movement and stillness. The fine details in the scales and petals bring depth, making the composition feel alive. The upward motion of the koi echoes the legend of perseverance—where a koi swimming upstream becomes a dragon—mirroring the Pisces spirit of adaptation and ambition. The roses introduce another layer, possibly symbolizing beauty, personal growth, or challenges that shape us. This piece captures a sense of quiet strength and fluidity, speaking to those drawn to themes of transformation, water energy, and the balance between struggle and grace.

Drawing with markers and sharpie

This piece I did free hand on paper. I fell in love with this drawing. Probably my best marker drawing I have done thus far. What do you guys think?

Artist and writer. While undergoing treatment for Patulous Eustachian Tube, a refractory ear disease, they developed an interest in Digitalnature and Computer, leading to their pursuit of media art creation. In March 2023, they exhibited “Bonsai Woven by Nature and Technology” at a multi-purpose exchange hub, later completing a masterpiece in electronic art. In April 2023, the work was showcased at the NFT digital art online gallery Media Art Gallery. In September 2023, inspired by memories of reforestation efforts, they exhibited a photography piece at a garden show in Kansai, expressing a strong desire to engage with reforestation through art. In 2024, their media art was exhibited at an NFT exhibition at Kyoto Miyakomesse, continuing their exploration of the fusion of digital technology and nature in artistic expression.

This is a fun piece of art inked paintstakingly with a fountain pen. I enjoyed drawing it, loosely based on a fall pallet. As a fun side note, she has four ears.

Another word play piece (Ends/Ants)

Umberto Eco (b. 1932) Eco says that he is able to be productive during the brief “interstices” in the day. He told The Paris Review’s interviewer: “This morning you rang, but then you had to wait for the elevator, and several seconds elapsed before you showed up at the door. During those seconds, waiting for you, I was thinking of this new piece I’m writing. I can work in the water closet, in the train. While swimming I produce a lot of things, especially in the sea. Less so in the bathtub, but there too.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “When men stop believing in God, it isn’t that they then believe in nothing: they believe in everything.” ― Umberto Eco #dailyrituals #inktober #UmbertoEco @masoncurrey

This piece captures the essence of country life. The detailed lines and shading bring out the rustic charm of the countryside, with a cozy home nestled amidst lush greenery.

Not my best work but I finished my challenge of 10 acrylic pieces in 10 days for practice in a new medium

I remember how I just started making this piece with no guidelines no measurements.. nothing. Just me looking at the reference and goin blind in the feelings. I wanted to make this piece as alive as i could..I wanted to feel his presence near me.

Draped in delicate pencil strokes, this artwork elegantly portrays a historic city gate, standing as a timeless sentry to myriad untold stories. Each shaded contour brings forth the intricate details of the gate's architecture, echoing the urban landscape of a bygone era. The deft use of monochrome evokes a nostalgic journey through the annals of time, where every shadow and highlight adds to the depth and texture of this piece. This mesmerizing blend of artistry and history invites viewers to step into the past and embrace the serene splendor of the city's storied gateway.

School art. At my previous school, during lessons, I created what I call 'folder art' (doodles on school folders) This particular piece features doodles of girls, celebrating girl power

Joseph Cornell (1903–1972) Cornell worked nights at the kitchen table, sorting and assembling materials for his boxes. It was not easy going. Some nights he felt too fatigued from his day job to concentrate on his art and would sit up reading instead, switching on the oven for warmth. In the mornings, his quarrelsome mother would scold him about the mess he’d left at the kitchen table; without a proper workroom, Cornell was forced to store his growing collection of magazine clippings and dime-store baubles out in the garage. In 1940 Cornell finally mustered the courage to quit his job and pursue his art full-time—and even then his habits changed little. He still worked nights at the kitchen table, while his mother and brother slept upstairs. In the late morning he would head downtown for breakfast at his local Bickford’s restaurant, often satisfying his sweet tooth with a Danish or a slice of pie (and lovingly cataloging these indulgences in his diary). - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey #dailyrituals #inktober #JosephCornell @masoncurrey

"Monochrome Serenity: Candles, Blooms, and Foliage" is an exquisite black and white charcoal artwork that captures the tranquil essence of its subjects. The subtle interplay of shadows and highlights accentuates the delicate beauty of flickering candles, graceful flowers, and lush plant life. This piece evokes a sense of calm and harmony, allowing the viewer to find peace in its serene simplicity.

This delightful black-and-white drawing captures the lively and playful essence of a whimsical animal parade. Bursting with creativity, each animal character showcases unique traits and expressions, bringing a joyful scene to life. From the adorable, tiny mice balancing on top of each other to the elegant elephants dancing gracefully, the artwork is a breathtaking celebration of harmony and fun in the animal kingdom. With its intricate details and enchanting charm, this piece invites viewers to step into a world of imagination and whimsy where animals parade with joy and carefree spirit.

The final piece for a watercolor course I just wrapped up. Trees are always an important part of my compositions.

Acrylic painting I did of a plant cell under a microscope, though it also works as an abstract piece.