He loses himself in his own fur, when he’s utterly relaxed. Touch that fluffy belly so casually exposed, though, and you’re likely to get punctured. He doesn’t know he’s irresistibly soft.
Drawn in Prismacolor Stick on heavy cream drawing paper. I wanted to capture the burning intensity of her patience as she waited for a sign from me that we were going to leave for our walk.
White and sanguine conte pencils on toned paper. These ruins captured my drawing itch with the quality of the light filtering brilliantly through the tangled growth outside, and the open shade within. At a metaphorical level, the image is about the sense of having a laborious path set in stone for me by custom, convention, and culture, while way is wide open to the chaotic fertility of nature, should I choose to follow my own feet and heart.
Wanted to further push how realistic I can achieve with water colour. I don’t think my skill is there yet, so I just let the water colour did it’s thing. And tried to control it less, moved away from adding even more detail.
