It’s easier to remain silent for someone
whose words only ever got twisted.
(spoke in other forms though)
Running from what?
Nothing. And everything.
Until they fell off the edge - or flew-
and plunged into an epiphany where words can’t
even translate,
can’t touch you.
“Don’t you come looking for me”
on the wind.
This drawing looks a bit like one of those "how are you feeling?" hospital charts. It starts out okay ("smiling cat", "drunk pirate"), and descends into full Lovecraftian Horror. I was driving toward a local town known for its unpleasant yokels, which probably explains the progression. Today, for the record, I'm 75% Apathetic Lumberjack, 5% glassy-eyed cat, and 20% Vampire Waluigi.
When you are gifting a present and run out of wrapping paper just grab some Kraft (or recycled) paper and draw all over it to create your own custom pattern.
Running Late. The personification of the reaper running late for his next appointment.
10” x 15” Original ink and watercolor illustration on Strathmore 500 Series 4-ply Bristol illustration paper.
Signed by the artist. Unframed.
Sometimes being a designer for a living can make designing unfun. That's when I run to my sketchbook where there are no right or wrong answers. A place where my work is no longer being judged by the world, but a place of expression.
Outside my drawing table window are straight and weeping birches. We lost one of the birch trucks and, tragically, a beautiful OLD Japanese maple during an ice storm a few years ago. The third trunk is still in my mind's eye.
My friend wanted nautical creatures for the back of her business cards, so VOILA. These are ink doodles that were scanned and given some color/grunge in Photoshop.
