A person in a relaxed posture sits in a bean bag chair, grasping a drink while surrounded by the phrase "It's an only exist kind of day." The color palette is cozy, with muted greens and reds creating an atmosphere of calm contentment.
Relaxed tension. Two parents at a national chess competition. Their kids squared off at the board, and so did they — one leaning back, shoe propped up, trying for calm; the other sitting stiff, watchful. The game played out in more ways than one.
A whimsical unicorn rides a waffle ice cream cone, leaving a colorful rainbow mane trail. Its playful posture adds charm comunicating freedom, happyiness and joy.
Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character.
With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer.
Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.
