So I just finished “the fault in our stars” by John green and it is very sad. It involves death and there is a song called when am I going to lose you by local natives. Both of them at the same time was overwhelming and It brought up the question, when am I gonna lose the ones I love so dearly?
"Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn't frighten me at all.:
~ poem "Life Doesn't Frighten Me" by Maya Angelou
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Please google or connect to link to read the complete poem - it is one all children hear:)
this one is illustrated by a master artist:
https://www.brainpickings.org/2013/05/03/life-doesnt-frighten-me-maya-angelou-basquiat/
The boy calls his brother to view the Ship. It's cool cozy weather. He feels happy and excited to watch it sail. This one is my favorite painting. It's clean & minimal. Reminds me of a cool, cozy, clear sky and before a rain
I am an art teacher with a master’s degree—trained by brilliant professors who believed that art could do more than decorate walls. I offer safe spaces for teenagers to grow—nourishing soil where their imaginations can take root.
And yet… I am assigned to hallway duty.
This is compulsory education, after all.
So I sit—posted like a sentinel—watching young lives stream past.
“Get to class,” I say with a smile and a nudge.
The system wants attendance; I’m hungry for presence.
Armed not with a whistle or clipboard, but with a pen—
my scribble’s soft insurgency.
The hallway stretches out like a geometric hymn.
Columns and corners chant structure.
Teenagers swirl past—half-formed galaxies of limbs and laughter—
their orbits chaotic, their gravity pulling time forward.
I begin to draw.
Not their tardiness, but their motion.
A shoulder. A blur of sneakers.
A tilted head chasing freedom.
Feet flickering like seconds.
Each mark a pulse.
Each smudge a breath.
My paper becomes a seismograph of seeing—
trembling gently through the mundane.
This isn’t about making art for a frame or a feed.
It’s about refusing to leak away in the fluorescent hum of obligation.
It’s a quiet mutiny against the clock.
I do this on long car rides, too (passenger side, mind you).
Letting the lines grow wild, jagged, and unapologetic.
Not for polish—
but for presence.
This is how I remember I’m still alive.
Still growing.
Still watching.
Still choosing to see.
Because sometimes mental health looks like
a piece of scrap paper,
a moving pen,
and the simple, sacred act of
marking time with wonder.
I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."
A colorful sketch depicts two stone hacienda arches. The bright hues suggest a sunny atmosphere, and through one arch, a serene landscape with trees is visible.
The image is of an evening scene after a sweet rain. After the sun sets, the Sunset vibes pop up. Pink skies are much more beautiful when roads are wet.
I’ve been going through a bit of an art slump lately, but I finally got myself to pick up the pencil and finish this. My reference photo was a bit grainy so had some trouble with that, but overall I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out. Done in graphite, drawing itself is about 5x6 in
This is the 2nd piece that I painted during my train journey. I painted this scene after getting mesmerised by the view from the train window. We just passed by a lake which had flowers on the riverbank. A group of girls ( students ) got excited when I showed some of my paintings. So I gifted one of them this (●'◡'●)
King of the rot
King of decay
Worlds will end, upon his say
King of the rot
King of decay
Is all you bring, just misery?
Upon my cries i heard him say
“Yes its true, I’m father to dismay”
“Loathe me, hate my ways”
“But look beyond the death”
“You find in my wake”
“I may swallow life”
“I may bring pain”
“But how beautiful is the rose that blooms on the grave?”
“How soft to the touch is the grass, after the rain?”
“I am the king of rot”
“I am the king of decay”
“But i also bring new life to the day” #embracingnightmares
