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A floral botanical illustration around the words of the famous poem and hymn by Cecil Alexander "All Things Bright & Beautiful'. Drawn in pen & ink with another on the way...'All creatures great & small.

This sketchbook is my therapist. Not this one specifically, but any single one small enough to fit in my pocket. I tell it everything, from quirky thoughts and funny notes to abstract concepts, drawings and positive reminders. Keep it analog folks… a doodle, sketch, writing, poem, or scribble every day helps to keep the brain fit and the thoughts flowing. ✏️

"Flying in the sky with a lady in its arms, The Platform's heading fast out to the farm. She was harmed unknowingly and now she will become a seed, From which the platforms now will feed until they breed." -- Drawn with fountain pens, colored with my iPad using Procreate.

This guy's running up like "Hey man, you know... If you're not going to use that computer I'll take it because you know... You don't have to throw it to those robots, man. You know?" Just like that.

This pen and ink drawing is in a poetry book.

They gather around, grateful, sending prayers up just to thank. (Directed at the man selected to be in the tank.) Who knows why that man is bare in there, and to be frank- They're thankful that it's him, not them. You can take that to the bank!

A thought I've been having lately- To make peace without forgiveness, I do it for my own mind, my own future, and you need nothing from me too.

Three islands filled with people all alone out by the sea, You see, I'd love to join them but there is no room for me. That one guy climbed too high - I think they call him "Clumsy Paul?" Soon there may be room for me... I'm just waiting for his fall.

"My life vest is in the boat, and I'm in the water." ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Riding with the Hides of Hell, a young adult love story now titled Burnout.

We're at the monster garden where the people were defeated, A guard is never needed 'cause the monsters must be feeded. I mean fed. Like I said: Peeps are happy to be eaten 'cause it's never all that long, Monsters do the number two and poop them back onto the lawn. Colored in @escapemotions Rebelle

Illustration for a poem in a book called Tettrennial Drift.

An image for an upcoming poetry book, using lots of crosshatching with Rapidograph pens.

"His heart turned off when his mind needed to listen." ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Riding with the Hides of Hell, now titled Burnout.

"I really don't like to gripe, But there's a monster in pink stripes, And he's lifting our house up to the sky. It's like what Mama always said, That we would all reach such great heights, But I suspect that's not quite what she meant."

The Owl & the pussycat black & white line illustration fro the poem by Edward Leah.

Stuck on Duckling Outpost, some might say it is a drag, but with luck maybe we'll get to fly the Duckling Kingdom flag!

He sits up in his teacup with his hands wrapped 'round a porg, Thinking up new ways to join forces with the Borg. To eradicate the Rebels by infecting them with spores, And assimilate the hive mind to become one with the Force.

Dropping bombs on people's moms... All because he's mad that his own mom named him "Tom." He overreacted but there's more to explain, though- Keep in mind the fact that his last name is "Aito."

It's not time yet.

This is an image I used for a poetry book.

meanwhileplaces The

Let Us Consider from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson Let us consider the man who fried roses for his dinner, whose kitchen smelled like a burning rose garden; or the man who disguised himself as a moth and ate his overcoat, and for dessert served himself a chilled fedora... #dailydrawing #watercolor #ink #illustration #poetry #russellEdson #dinners #moth #heartWantsWhatItWants

This is a drawing for a poetry book. Sometimes I do the drawing first and then write the poetry.

Plantain, Plantago major, was considered to be one of the nine sacred herbs by the ancient Saxon people, and has been celebrated in Anglo-Saxon poetry as the "mother of herbs." In Russian this plant is called Подорожник - meaning near the roads. Native Americans called it "white man's foot" as it is often found growing along well-trodden foot paths and it was brought to the Americas from Europe. The Latin generic name means "sole of the foot." When I was a kid, we would use the leaves of this plant for small hurts and scratches. We would spit on the leaves and stick it onto our scratches. https://www.instagram.com/p/CSE9jT9LqUY/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Title: Windows to the Soul Medium: Ink on sketch Book Paper Size: 10” X 14” Year: 01/09/2020 This Illustration is a pulmonary design/study for a future painting. Theme was born from a poem I wrote a couple years ago, by the same title. The main massage is that Christians are to be windows that Jesus Christs can shine His light of, Love, truth, mercy, salvation, hope, new life, in to a darkened world by the power of sin. The power of sin is what subjects all creation under destruction, suffer, death, decay. The Devil, and countless fallen angel use these tools to destroy the human race. Christians Have victory, through faith in Christ, from being a salves to sin, they have obtain adoption into God’s family, and removed from the coming damnation that is for the rebellious angels and the humans. Christian still are still temped to commit sin, and still make bad choices. Christian’s sin, hinder their effectiveness to be a witnesses for God’s kingdom, their short comings are like black drapes, that hang in a widow, that hinder the sunlight from brightening and warming a dark cold room. The massage communicated by symbolism The stair well leading down with the railing around it: The railing: The 3 petal flower is a Keltic symbol for the trinity of God. The railing around the stair well: Represents, God’s desire that none should perish but to repent. It also represents that people go to hell by their own choice, through their deliberate rebellious living against God. No ne accidently end up on the wrong side of the railroad tracks. The Stairs going down: Represents sinful humanity that is separated from a holy God. Without a spiritual intervention, we all have one destination that is the lake of fire, which is the finale judgement for sin. The open glass pane door: Represents God wants humanity to except his invitation to commune with Him, receive the new life He offers to provide for them. The stair case without railings: Represents the path to TheHeaven, which must me travailed by faith. The partly open drapes hanging in the Picture widow. Represent sin that try to prevent the light of truth to penetrate the darkness of deception. The railing with the fishes and crosses: This represent the Heavenly destination of Christian. It also stand for Christian being God’s Life guard. While living in the world, their mission is to take the salvation message into all the world. The second Floor open door, the entrance filled with light: This represents the entrance to Heaven. The globe sculpture represents a world needing to be repossessed, from the power of the curse of sin. By the hand of God, it will made new, absent of rebellious angel and humans. Absent from destruction, suffering, death, decay. Stephen J. Vattimo 1/10/2020

"I'm spreading wonder with one word." ~A blackout poem from a recycled page of Dealing with Blue, a YA love story.

Patron Saint of Lost Keys and Small Things. Reminded me of this poem by Elizabeth Bishop. One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster. —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Inktober Prompt: Radio. Radio operator with the code poem by Leo Marks in Morse code. (https://www.greatestpoems.com/the-life-that-i-have/)

Illustration for children’s book with poems and nursery rhymes

"I remember you put a smile on my face. Now I got the crow's feet." ~ A blackout poem from a recycled page of Burnout, an Young Adult adventure/romance story.