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reading

Jennifer Solomon Jennifer Solomon
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French Philosophers

doodle about my imagined philosophers after reading Camus

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George Wheeling George Wheeling
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The lone being

One of my first larger artworks spreading away from my normal doodling on papers. A tribute to my favorite mythical creature Cthulhu (: !!!!!Opinions would be soo appreciated considering I'm brand spankin new to art.!! also if you'd like this design on a notebook or t-shirt or even a print hit me up.

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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As Valid As Dante Writing About His Inferno, April 2020.

A line in 'Renegade: The Lives And Tales Of Mark E. Smith', which I'm currently reading, got my creative juices flowing this time around!

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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Anthony Trollope

Anthony Trollope (1815–1882) "All those I think who have lived as literary men,—working daily as literary labourers,—will agree with me that three hours a day will produce as much as a man ought to write. ... "I always began my task by reading the work of the day before, an operation which would take me half an hour, and which consisted chiefly in weighing with my ear the sound of the words and phrases.… This division of time allowed me to produce over ten pages of an ordinary novel volume a day, and if kept up through ten months, would have given as its results three novels of three volumes each in the year..." From Daily rituals by Mason Currey #dailyrituals #inktober #anthonyTrollope @masoncurrey

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Ellis Illustrations Ellis Illustrations
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Reading a book outside any thing wrong with that?!

A beautiful stylish woman reading a book outside beside a brown coloured mountain. Use your imagination. Originals downloads sold elsewhere and anyone selling these is liable to prosecution for art theft and illegal art dealing. By the way, if it doesn’t say your name on the description its obviously not you! Busy with new things that don’t include your name sorry it not you! She actually is reading literature fiction in particular and most definitely not newspapers..! No Stalkers from ‘downstairs’ please. You are not part of the picture sorry! Well, Life goes on get over it because I had two angry men stalkers walking behind me too close the other day dressed in red and black trying to bully me on the street. These people understand nothing about art and are illegal hackers and they pretend to be offering employment possibly part of the same company that I mentioned earlier. Haha! no one replied to their offer! If they bother you too freely report them. They could be one here pretending to be artists and bullying people. Don’t give negativity a chance! And I will keep reposting this picture without this negativity at the mosh pit ‘bottom’. Interesting stories to accompany my very beautiful illustrations. Interested in buying? Even better! I am still smiling!

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Jufi Jufi
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Slavic mythology

This drawing was made while reading a book about Slavic myths

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Stephanie Valerio Stephanie Valerio
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Son reading a magazine

Biro on paper, 14 x 9 cm

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David Young David Young
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old man reading

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Agnes Agnes
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O Labirinto

Sometimes we see ourselves in a labirinth in which it's hard to make just one choice among many others and how it can affect our future. It's like going to the supermartket and seeing so many products of the same type and either you pick the same old or you just stare at them not knowing which one is the best and you waist your time reading the composition of each one to choose the one that suits you better.

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Young Young
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Reading

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Doug Dutton Doug Dutton
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Stop reading this

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Michael Michael
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Harry Potter

Just recently started reading the Harry Potter series. Halfway through book 2 and got inspired to draw a picture. So here we have Harry and he who shall not be named!

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Jim Romer Jim Romer
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UPDATE: Fantasy Reading Scene (for SCBWI)

UPDATE: I was working on this illustration a while back, but I had no spare time and had to put it aside. The composition was too busy, but now I think it looks a little better. I made a few major changes, like: • Made adjustments to light sources • Created bolder outlines • Got rid of the Knight reading over the dragon's shoulder

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kris genijn kris genijn
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Evening Sub-Standard: to protect and serve?

i had become so bored of reading the articles in this hate-mongering newspaper that i decided it was a better use of my time to start doodling over the pictures.

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Colin Tew Colin Tew
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Hospital Room Sketch

while reading "For Whom the Bell Tolls"

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Rolf Schroeter Rolf Schroeter
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brush+ink+else

my tools for inking + spreading

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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“If A Scholar Lives In The House, The House Looks Scholarly”, May 2025.
1/2

A line taken from the current book I’m digesting… Finally reading the My Neighbor Totoro book my girlfriend got me for my birthday. Slowly getting through but enjoying it immensely!

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Lora Sager Lora Sager Plus Member
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Snacking and reading

The afterlife can get boring sometimes so a good book can help pass the time.

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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“(Pondering The Mystery Of) Gartis & Gytus”, February 2022.

Currently reading ‘Nina Simone’s Gum’ by Warren Ellis at long last. What a phenomenal bit of work this is, and inspiring to boot most importantly as you can see. Thanks for sharing your stories with us all Warren!

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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To The Ultimate, January 2022.

Many years back, I watched that documentary ‘The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off’ about a fellow called Jonny Kennedy who lived with the skin condition EB. There’s a bit in that film where he talks about what he hopes his afterlife would be like and, for whatever reason, a couple of coffees as I was re-reading the Wikipedia article about it triggered an idea I had to scribble down...

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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“In The Spirit Of Blixa Bargeld Returning To The High School He Firebombed As A Student”, October 2021.

Apparently, Blixa Bargeld of Einsturzende Neubaten and Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds fame actually did this to his school back when he was a lad! I needed an idea for a convoluted weird-as-they-come title, and after reading that story I knew I had something, heheheh :)

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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Lets Talk Automine, March 2020.

Inspired by reading a subreddit discussing the early works of Animal Collective.

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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Candy Fries, August 2018.

*writes a few words, masticates a few more he found reading Doctor Who books* An ode to the more saccharine yet saltier tasting things in life. Faff and fluff aside, find your own meaning folks.

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Spearmint Chalk Spearmint Chalk
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Bad news, everybody (if you dont think about it)

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.

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Riley Kane Riley Kane
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Line art for page 2

Teaser for the color version coming soon! This is a continuation of the first page of this story, which I posted here: https://www.doodleaddicts.com/uploads/71900/first-page/ I hope you all enjoy reading it! These are a lot of fun to make : )

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Marina Marina
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After Zero: Riddler x OC

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?"

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Paul Mennea Paul Mennea
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Wordless reading

Wordless reading - sketch

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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r is for reading

nyc subway.

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WaterproofFade-Proof WaterproofFade-Proof
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Auren Portrait

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.

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Paul Mennea Paul Mennea
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daily readings recall memories

digital and analogical sketch

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