the next piece for #inktober environmental issues series continues with #day10 word #flowing. It's quite hard to correlate a situation with a word, but this is how flowing and plastic waste ended up looking like. How much plastic waste do I produce in a day? In a week? How about a year? Nature is full of plastic waste and is overflowing everywhere. In the rivers, seas and oceans... Next time they ask you at the supermarket if you need a plastic bag, think again...
A pair of skeletons, dressed in formal attire, are engaged in a lively dance, with the phrase "RATTLE MY BONES" beneath them. The female skeleton wears a long dress adorned with flowers, while the male skeleton sports a suit and hat. a cute and whimsical Halloween illustration.
This painting was developed from a photo shoot at Presquile Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada. The bobcats were designed and posed by myself. The details of the fur were from research.
A striking jellyfish is depicted with flowing, colorful tendrils. The intricate lines in vibrant blues and oranges give a sense of movement and grace. This image captures the delicate beauty of marine life with an artistic flair.
A watercolor painting about Seashore. We sit and enjoy the Sweet sounds of sea waves and birds chirping. They are soo much relaxing. It is a Watercolor painting.
Seahorse are of the genus Hippocampus, from the Ancient Greek, hippos meaning "horse" and kampos meaning "sea monster". Seahorses are not great swimmers so they spend a lot of time with their tail wrapped around stationery objects.
A street sketch near Bourem, Mali. My new method of finding something interesting to draw - now that I'm mostly at home, like everyone else - is using StreetView. I use the app to search interesting places around the globe.
These are 5 out of 12 images I did while processing the necessity of healing from life lessons. Heartbreak is prevalent throughout all the levels of tragedies in our lives. At times, the mourning period feels forced-- I never really want my wounds to heal because I feel they're the last of the love I carried for that "thing". The process feels like gold pouring into my gapping heart and I can only scream as it sears through my veins. It hurts to heal. It hurts that it has to happen.
