practice

A random sketch that became a drawing practice. Even tried to sketch the outlines of some coat. What happens when one draws without a proper plan or skeleton, ending up with a "lifelike perspective".

“I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.” - Bruce Lee.

riding while looking at your phone is a very bad idea and can land you a fine in Amsterdam but I've watched people type whole messages while riding around the city.

A quiet study of restraint at altitude. Framed through an aircraft window, the world below drifts by while the interior remains still—objects worn, familiar, and waiting. Subtle distortions in perspective and muted tones emphasize the tension between motion and pause, progress and endurance. This piece captures the discipline of waiting while suspended between departure and arrival, where patience is not passive, but practiced under pressure.

For some reason, I had to prove to myself that good art does indeed take time. Anyways, this is an angel character (they're not real angels, they're a fictional species of mine) in my "spacefluff" style. I think I want to name her Mosambi, because she's sweet.

This coloured drawing I was working on for the past few days, wasn't very successful as I failed to properly bring the elements together. A few mistakes were made along the way, even if I managed to compensate for them quite a bit. But yea... There were a couple day's worth of journaling done on this one as I tried to make it a learning lesson.

It has been a while since I last felt that I had a good day. Got myself together to draw, and the first thing that came into mind was to continue this character design project. Tried a mix between shades of grey, pale blue, with a tint of purple. Overall, the practice in drawing bird anatomy is slowly getting there. But yea... This is not a Blue Jay... I might have went a little too blue.

New art supplies test time…

This piece critiques the modern tendency to hide identity behind brands and consumerism. * Visual Focus: The mask is partially obscured by a fitted baseball cap, with the bill pulled down to cover one eye. The cap itself is a symbol of brand identity and fast-fashion culture. The uncovered eye retains an unsettling, almost mechanical gaze. * Symbolism: * The Cap: Represents the societal practice of hiding behind brands and allowing consumerism to dictate self-worth and block out unwanted truths. The act of seeing is deliberately curtailed. * The Mask: Emphasizes that the consumer identity is often a façade-a manufactured mask that prevents others from truly "seeing" the individual, while simultaneously restricting the individual's full sight of the world.

On May 12, 2024, I made a significant decision to deposit $14,200 into crypto chain io, a choice I would soon come to regret. Almost immediately after completing the transaction, an uneasy feeling began to set in. Concerned, I reached out to their support team to confirm the status of my deposit, but my inquiries went unanswered. As the days passed, my anxiety increased. By May 16, just four days later, I noticed that the funds had not been credited to my account. Panic started to take hold as my emails were either ignored or met with a single, dismissive response: “Processing takes time.” No timeline was provided, and there was no transparency. It became painfully obvious that I had fallen victim to a scam. For the next six long months, I fought relentlessly to recover my lost money. Every attempt to contact the crypto chain was met with silence and evasion, leaving me feeling more and more helpless and frustrated. The lack of meaningful communication only deepened my despair. I spent countless hours trying to reach out through various channels, but every effort was futile. With each passing day, the reality that I might never see my money again became harder to ignore. Just when I thought all hope was lost, a breakthrough came on November 8, 2024. While browsing comments on X (formerly Twitter) during discussions about the U.S. general election, I stumbled upon a post praising a company called Salvage Asset Recovery. Intrigued and desperate for help, I contacted them the same day. To my relief, their team responded quickly, demonstrating genuine commitment to helping me. They launched a thorough investigation into crypto chain Io's operations, delving deep to uncover the truth behind the fraudulent activities. Their expertise and determination reignited my hope. By November 22, 2024, my perseverance was rewarded. Salvage Asset Recovery successfully traced and reclaimed my entire $14,200, exposing the fraudulent practices of the platform in the process. I was overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing I had finally recovered what I had lost. It was all thanks to the support of Salvage Asset Recovery. you can visit them via below TELEGRAM+16592200206

The lake was busy with light, the grasses busy with wind, but the boat sat quiet against the shore. There is a gift in this tension: to be held still while everything moves, to be carried without effort, to find rest in the very heart of motion.

A simple ink sketch of a bird at rest. Sometimes the quiet moments—watching, pausing, waiting—are the deepest teachers. This drawing is part of my exploration of what I call the Quiet Practices—small ways of living from the inside out. If you’d like to see more of my reflections, I share them here: https://forming20.com/

Zoidberg: Everyone! Quick! I was reading about this man RFK Jr. who says that we have to stop all modern medical practices immediately. He says they're poisonous.... Amy: RFK Jr. was an unqualified political grifter who died in disgrace from preventable illnesses over a thousand years ago. All of his theories were discredited even while he was still alive. You'd have to be a complete moron to take him seriously. Leela: God, Dr. Zoidberg. Aren't you even a little ashamed at being such an idiot? Fry: Yeah, Zoidberg. Even I knew that. How embarrassing for you.

Must be that time again…

Trying to do some designs of my own characters and practice some point of view, lightning and shadow, human body parts, etc. A color version coming tomorrow.

practice sketch for the painting, check out my other stuff to see my progress https://www.instagram.com/alexacrylicpainted/

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.

Daily Gesture practice. I have been practicing for 30 minutes every day for two weeks. I aim to improve, but mostly to have fun. Feel free to give me pointers !

Cover for my fanfic i writing for "Batman: Zero Year" comic. After Zero: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63498001 "I bloom, a flower fair and bright, A needed thing, for two, a light. In hearts' soft garden, breezes play, I grow in strength with each new day." The Riddler nodded patiently, his eyes half-lidded in boredom. Amber devoted almost all her energy to keep reciting this stupid rhyme that she had composed and practiced until she turned pale from exhaustion. The remaining part of her energy was spent on NOT clutching her jacket. "But then, a worm, with wicked bite. Gnawed at my grain and dimmed my light. A spreading blight, a change so foul. Cursed my existence, took its toll. My two companions, caught in strife. Began to gnaw and hurt their life. Absorbing poison, bit by bit. They both grew sick, they couldn't quit." "…" “Who am I?" The Riddler lazily raised his eyes to the sky and just as slowly raised his hands. "Love!" His voice was full of theatrical reverence. He didn’t even pretended that the riddle made him ponder over it. "To be more precise — twisted love. Am I right?"

Practicing drawing hats for my caricatures. Practice, practice, practice!

Mermaid caricature practice.

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

Micron pen and alcohol markers

Look at this cutey—a shoebill stork done in watercolors. I wanted to do something different from botanicals but still practice simple watercolors.

Water colour on cardboard. It was a quick practice session.

i wanted to attemp to and try my roots at realism turns out i have a lot of practice to do to find my artstyle

Hand rendering practice in Procreate!