pun

#robot #guitar #fun #music #musiclover #punk #stool #thoughtbubble #plug #confusion #contemplation #acoustic #spikyhair #funny #mohawk #character #acousticguitar #musician #musicimage #rockon #JoseloRochaArt #guitarist #guitarplayer

A robotic skeleton with a punk-style blue mohawk plays a bright pink electric guitar that emits electric energy waves when played. the robot wears a black leather jacket.

#robot

Hey! I'm back! Working hard on my outfits, got inspired by some steampunk pirates and decided to try my hand.

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.

cardboard, gel pens, 43x32 cm, roughly 2014-2016

Oils

Had to make the pun! Although my girlfriend thinks otherwise, that I will say…

para el día 22 de Fruitecember hoy le toca a ponche de frutas para este día decidí dibujar a Juan Carlos tomándose un vaso de delicioso ponche de frutas aprovechando que estamos cerca de Navidad

It’s a daft pun, I know, but still!

Pun play to encourage positive body image. Freckles, moles, skin tags. Love them or hate them, they are part of our body. As one who enjoys stargazing, I think that the dots on our body resembles stars in the night sky. Truly beautiful. Sometimes when I’m bored, I play connect the dots on my limbs, and they do resemble constellations.

Gonna make a pun later

A character concept drawing of a pirate vampire character I created for a collab writing project that died. His clothing and even his hair borrowed aspects from various jelly fish as inspiration. " The snap of inky sails catching the wind punctuated the subtle wooden creaks of the Sea Nettle as it slid over glossy black waves. The night was oppressive. With the moon obscured by clouds, the ship, with its doused lamps and its dark wood was nearly invisible as she crept closer to her prize. Tallis stood on the forecastle, one foot propped against the railing, his hands supporting a spyglass. He drifted the lens between the lights below deck, counting each of them and making note of any movement on the upper deck and in the rigging. A single sailor was at the helm. Another was lazily standing beside him, possibly engaged in conversation that distracted him from his watch. This was to be expected, not many would dare to disturb such a well-equipped vessel of the Luthen royal fleet. Nettie's crew was lesser in numbers, but they were experts in what few on the high seas could manage. Tonight, would be a quiet strike. Open combat spelled unnecessary danger for his crew."

Pun play

Suddenly the light goes out and staying in the dark is a test of resistance, but when everything seems lost, it turns on again, so simply: sometimes a single attempt isn't enough, there are many moments to spend without light, but you don't have to be afraid of it, because sooner or later we will succeed in the undertaking and it will make you smile as the thing that seemed so difficult came spontaneously, it was enough not to force the process. I hate the darkness because it shows me a version of myself that I would never want to meet, yet if I accept that the punches of life in some periods are stronger than others, sometimes leaving bruises and burns, but that life itself has granted me caresses like this sweets that I would not have appreciated without going through pain, then everything around me will seem golden. I can only appreciate the hatred and wonder of it. I can feel those caresses, I can savor them with the same intensity with which I feel the pain of the punches, because ultimately they give so much: the strength to take another step, to not give up right now, right now that I am so close to feeling them in my heart those precious caresses.

Luminary Festival - Auren Farkis (Digital Portrait I did as a colour study) Crisp reverberating strings danced through the evening. Notes twisted and echoed up through the emerald, velvet tiers of Ridgedow Gardens. Dusk’s veil had long since darkened to a diamond-encrusted black, and Clarglow was alive with activity. Footpaths were choked with revellers that formed a river of light that coursed and pulsed through the park. Will-o-whisp spots of light also glowed among the neatly trimmed hedgerows and statues. Their magic-addled voices rose up, joining in with the music of the Luminary Festival. A young man, no more than a quarter of a century old, glowed brightest of all. A soft orange radiated from his eyes, and his veins pulsed a brilliant red. He was dripping in gold and gems. Over an outfit that somehow managed to be heavily layered and revealing at the same time, he wore a sheer cape, which was heavily embroidered with blood-red crystals that refracted his own light around him in dazzling, concentrated rays. It was such a dangerous colour of magic, but his expression was soft and dreamy. Excited laughter rose up as a clustered group shot metallic confetti skyward. Gold flake drifted down and settled into his silver hair, cheeks, and shoulders. No doubt he would discover the remnants of this festival in his home weeks from now. He increased his pace, stepping off the cobbled path to overtake the group, when one of their number split from the group. The coils of her dark hair were so saturated with gold that she looked like she belonged on a pedestal next to the other statues. She intercepted him, matching his pace. She snaked a long, slender arm around his waist and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his neck, leaving a wake of golden kisses up to his earlobe, where she leaned closer to whisper. — “Aurie, Luv, I know that look. Don’t tell me you’re headed home. The eve has only just begun. “ Her glowing eyes Locked with Auren’s, her grip tightening, slowing the both of them to a stop, causing a temporary blockage in the flow of people. “Overdid myself Mel.. you’ll have to –” –” Come with us to the reflecting pool.” She cooed, meeting his lips in an off-center kiss, smearing his inky wine lipstick. Momentarily, he allowed himself to relax. He considered saying yes. His heart pounding, he dipped his friend backwards gracefully, resenting that he had to leave. An itch in his left arm reminded his fuzzy brain that he was in danger. Gasping softly, he gently lifted Mella upright and spun her out towards her friends, who were growing impatient. He couldn’t make out their faces in the fuzz of the evening. “I can’t, I’m sorry Mel! We’ll talk later.” Before she could protest, he danced, spinning forward in a brilliant display of speed that ended in a stumble as he met a set of steep steps that coiled sharply upwards out of the park and onto the pink brick streets overlooking Ridgedow Gardens. The glazed windows facing the street were empty and blank… their occupants elsewhere, enjoying the festival. The empty buildings were like faces, judging him for his lack of zeal. Auren wound his way through streets and side streets, his pace increasing as he grew more and more alone. Finally, he was climbing a set of steps to his own front door. Smirking at the sight of it he reached down into the front of the bodice that held together the layers of his outfit pulling free a loop of keys that were on a long chain looped around his neck. Aligning it to the keyhole he struggled with the lock, cursing softly under his breath as it initially failed to cooperate with him. In the quiet black of his foyer, he latched the door behind him and stumbled forward, tearing at the ribbon that held the gleaming cape that draped from his bare shoulders. He let it drop on a black lacquered table. He reached up to unclasp an elaborate choker and tore his single, crimson glove down from his elbow. He pressed a gilded fingernail against a band of red ink encroached upon by a spreading corruption. Marginally extending beyond the band were sinews of mismatched muscle and skin; even his hair had begun to glow red. Pulse rising, he wrenched his rings from his fingers, casting them into the ever-darkening room. Precious jewellery piled under him until only the dimmest glow from his own veins remained.. Slumping onto the steps, he tightened his grip on his arm and twisted it ninety degrees. A sharp click of crystal against porcelain met his ears. The room was enveloped in black as his final stone slid away from his arm, rendering the prosthesis inert. He slid to his side, the sounds of the party below overtaken by his own gasping breaths, panic refusing to subside alongside his magic.

An impromptu Shane MacGowan tribute! Rest in power good sir, thank you!

A cyberpunk-style spaceship. I imagined it as a transport ship taking off. Painted in Rebelle 6

I highly recommend the book, Gender and Competition: How Men and Women Approach Work and Play Differently, by Kathleen J. DeBoer. In it, among other things, she elucidates that those with a conceptually masculine perspective (regardless of sex) are drawn to thinking of the world in hierarchies, which I have represented here with a triangle in the mind of the spotter on the left. She elaborates that those with a conceptually feminine perspective (again, regardless of sex) are draw to thinking of the world in webs, which I have represented here with a circle. Those that think more masculine-ly are more likely to expect beginners in a sport or field to prove themselves in the group. They will often not "hold their punches" (i.e. curb their ability) to make newcomers comfortable. All members of the group are expected to "earn their keep," in a sense. When a member of the group exceeds expectations, they move up in the hierarchy. Contrary to that, those that think more feminine-ly likely show acceptance and approval to beginners in order to foster an environment in which they will perform. They will often adjust their skills so that newcomers can more readily "keep up." When a member of the group exceeds expectations, they are expected to raise the status of the group as a whole. The playing field is "flattened" in that sense. I am not advocating for either perspective, but I will share that I have a more conceptually feminine perspective, and that I have previously left groups whose members have a more masculine perspective. Kathleen's book really helped me personally to understand the motivations of people that I genuinely did not understand prior to reading the book. It put a lot into perspective for me, and I hold fewer grudges these days. Cheers, fam~

Pen and ink on Bristol

This new Bikes of Amsterdam painting is of this wooden bike I saw (no pun intended) a while back. I thought it was probably owned by a lumberjack although it’s more likely some city hipster type. Either way cool bike. Guess you would need to varnish it every year.

A pencil drawing inspired from Cyberpunk 2077

This sketch is supposed to symbolise the struggle we all have to accept our responsibilities at the cost of our own well-being. It's easy to ignore our problems when there are so many forms of escapism.

I wanted to explore a fictional future that combined traditional fantasy races with a cybernetic future. An elven adventurer takes a health potion, depicted as a futuristic vape, before heading off on her next quest.

I created a series of mini-flyer to promote Jesse Lent's show. The show venue becomes the inspiration and the series was produced with hand-drawing line-marker style with one punchy bold color.

Puncil.

The guitar sounded so much better once it was doodled. Art really resonates when it strikes the right chord. (Puns intended.).

I created a series of mini-flyer to promote Jesse Lent's show. The show venue becomes the inspiration and the series was produced with hand-drawing line-marker style with one punchy bold color.