Looking at other people's workspaces makes my one look boring by comparison. Anyway, here's where I spring clean my head of ideas – with all me electronics and toys and that!
Still playing with ballpoint pens. This time, I tried a “scribble” drawing, holding the pen way back on the shaft and making little circles and scribbles….then layering them over and over. It was actually very liberating and fun. I did this on a Canson sketch paper….which didn’t wear through, but did buckle a little towards the end.
My husband has a chronic illness and frequently spends weeks in the hospital. I have been doodling each day while sitting with him and many of them reflect my thoughts at the time. Often appearing are desperation, hope, frustration, sarcasm, fear.
Yesterday, I was drawing during the Metropolitan Opera's daily streaming. My husband, Mike came by and looked dumbfounded. "Samson and Delilah inspired THIS subject matter?" Walked off shaking his head. We have a good laugh!
Just finished the excellent EXPLORING Kourse (Sketchbook Skool), I had to set my own agenda. I am trying to get used to using watercolors. I like it when they don't fill the page entirely. Here is an archerfish trying to catch an insect by spitting at it,
Superstitions: Spiders.
The spider once featured in many old potions for the cure of illnesses such as gout, ague, whooping cough and asthma, and these involved either crushing and eating the creature with other ingredients, swallowing a portion of its web, or wearing a little muslin bag of live spiders around the neck. https://www.instagram.com/p/CGC3Rs0hEFY/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
My husband has a chronic illness and frequently spends weeks in the hospital. I have been doodling each day while sitting with him and many of them reflect my thoughts at the time. Often appearing are desperation, hope, frustration, sarcasm, fear.
It's Easter weekend, Passover, which means spring! Time to buy flowers plant gardens and enjoy this wonderful time of year.
pen, ink, watercolor, colored pencil on arches 140 gram hot press cotton rag paper.
When I was a teen, my grandfather had alzheimers, a failing heart, and half of one lung. He was covered with scars and sometimes muttered at walls.
I was asked to keep an eye on him, briefly, one afternoon, while my grandmother did something else. While I was alone with him, he looked at an empty space right next to me, and whispered: "Mom? Dad? Is that you?"
With the exception of getting hit by a car, that was the most terrifying moment of my life.