self

I have been up and down this week with my art. One day I love it and in a few days I start to hate it. Its a roller coaster I'm sick of. But inside myself I hold many universes that I try to explore with my characters. One might hold vampires, while the other might hold mermaids. While others are looking for peace, lost treasures or finding their way home.

In “I Love Lamp,” Ty Patmore blends nostalgia, humor, and subtle unease into a surreal domestic scene where time, space, and memory feel slightly off-center. A lava lamp—softly glowing with drifting shapes—sits on a worn wooden table, acting as the sole beacon of warmth inside a room that is quietly falling apart. The wallpaper peels back to reveal fractured brick beneath, as if the structure itself is shedding its old skin. A melting wall clock drips down the surface like time losing its grip, while a framed picture of a UFO drifting over pine trees hints that even the outside world may not be quite right. Every object bends reality just enough to make the viewer question whether this room is comforting… or unsettling.

A woman holds a megaphone directly to her face and out of the megaphone burst an explosion of flowers to comunícate the message "be your biggest fan" in a playful, self love, confidence boost, way.

“Revising the Future” captures the exact moment creation becomes correction. Using my own drawing hand as the model, I built this piece through a cycle of sketch, pause, observe, and refine — letting the act of drawing guide the artwork itself. The eraser actively lifts portions of the page, symbolizing the choices we adjust as we grow, the mistakes we confront, and the quiet courage it takes to reshape the path ahead.

Hi everyone! I am Cam. I like to make friends, and I am 18 and this is my OC of myself as a white anthromorphic cat. I am a Christian. And enjoy chatting in here.

A whimsical yet haunting reflection on the passage of time, From Time to Time imagines a fragile machine built to bend reality itself. The “Tempus Machina” stands as both invention and relic — humming with promise but tethered by a frayed cord and a warning: Watch Your Step. The cracked wall, warped floorboards, and distorted clock hint that tampering with time comes at a cost. Blending humor, nostalgia, and existential tension, Patmore’s work transforms a steampunk curiosity into a metaphor for our human impulse to repair, rewind, and relive what’s already slipping away.

A rather smudgy charcoal drawing I did of myself and my bsf

Been bothered for months without realising this, and it seriously affected my ability to draw. It finally decided to show itself today, after I admitted to its existence. I'm not very adept in draw humans, so this twisted aberration is probably the best I can handle.

Self portrait

An artist and her inner world of self doubt and the highs and lows of pursuing her passion. Negative thoughts that appear to be real low vibe entities pressure her but still she believes in her dream.

Self made imaginary character.

Lush green leaves form a vibrant background, setting a calming tone with the motivational phrase "Help Yourself" in the center. The contrast between the text and the foliage captures attention and invites reflection.

I am a developer, and coding is my world. But when it comes to, say, the "life" part of life skills? Not so much. After a grueling 72-hour coding marathon, fueled by nothing but caffeine and questionable decisions, I made a mistake I now regret on a cosmic level: I spilled coffee on my external hard drive, the very drive that stored access to my digital wallet, holding a significant sum. At first, I told myself it wasn't that bad; surely a little splash wouldn't be a big deal, right? With confidence in my tech skills, I turned to the internet for answers. One search result boldly asked: "Can you dry a hard drive in the microwave?" Spoiler alert: absolutely not. Don’t try this under any circumstance. I’m lucky I didn’t end up with melted plastic or worse. After my solo data recovery efforts failed catastrophically, panic set in. This wasn't just lost files, this was years of effort, wiped in a moment. That’s when I found Digital Resolution Services. Desperate and admittedly a bit embarrassed, I reached out, hoping for a miracle. From the moment they answered, I could tell I was in capable hands. The team was calm, professional, and reassuring, never once mocking my questionable DIY methods (which, looking back, I probably deserved). Instead, they got straight to work, applying specialized tools and expertise to my situation. The process wasn’t easy. It involved long nights, constant updates, and a rollercoaster of emotions. But Digital Resolution Services never gave up. They stayed committed, persistent, and focused every step of the way. When they finally restored access to my wallet, I was overwhelmed with relief not just because the funds were safe, but because I could finally sleep without stress. That experience taught me something valuable: sometimes, it’s not about being the expert in everything, it's about knowing when to trust the right ones. Now, I keep my coffee and hard drive far apart. And every time I take a sip of that morning brew, I remember: if your data matters, don’t gamble, reach out to professionals like Digital Resolution Services. TELEGRAM: @DIGITALRESOLUTIONSERVICES WHATSAPP: +1 (361) 260 8628

I wanted to measure how far I have come. In 2023 I drew Voxs screen, well today I redrew it and got this as a result. I'm not one to feel a sense of pride, but damn I'm feeling proud. I have done a lot of self taught with my art and using Ipad and procreate. I did take a art class in college which was basic sketching. I have watched videos, listened to others and just observed to get where I am. I don't know if my art will take me anywhere. But what I do know is, its my outlet, my vent, my escape.

Nikola Tesla (1856–1943) After he had started his own company, Tesla arrived at the office at noon. Immediately, his secretary would draw the blinds; Tesla worked best in the dark and would raise the blinds again only in the event of a lightning storm, which he liked to watch flashing above the cityscape from his black mohair sofa. Tesla ate alone, and phoned in his instructions for the meal in advance. Upon arriving, he was shown to his regular table, where eighteen clean linen napkins would be stacked at his place. As he waited for his meal, he would polish the already gleaming silver and crystal with these squares of linen, gradually amassing a heap of discarded napkins on the table. And when his dishes arrived—served to him not by a waiter but by the maître d’hôtel himself—Tesla would mentally calculate their cubic contents before eating, a strange compulsion he had developed in his childhood and without which he could never enjoy his food. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Of all things, I liked books best.” ― Nikola Tesla “One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.” ― Nikola Tesla #dailyrituals #inktober #NikolaTesla @masoncurrey

Here is anime style: https://www.doodleaddicts.com/uploads/69316/noa-rabiner/" Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay. To mould me man?" A foreign ability user named Cohen and his sister Noa visited the Agency. Cohen has the ability "I," which allows him to temporarily animate any objects. For example, tables, chairs, statues, etc. But he must manually "unanimate" them. The weakness of his ability is that objects left animated for too long will go insane. He came to the Agency because his brother, Levi, stole their family heirloom - a golem, the best matter with which "I" works in symbiosis. Cohen is dying of an illness. He must pass on his ability to another, but finding the golem is a priority. The main plot twist, of course, is that his "sister" is the animated golem. She does not know about this since the master ordered her to forget and believe in her familial relationship with him - the golem unquestioningly follows the orders of the master and this includes subconscious self-deception. Noa is an ancient creature, but her age matters little because when her master "turns her off," all the memories she has lived are erased from her memory. With a new "turn on," she needs time to gradually gain an independent mind and begin to feel. Unfortunately, this process is rapid enough to cause terrible problems with controlling emotions and feelings, which always lead to blind violence on her part when she can not cope with herself... In some ways, she is naive, but she highly values ​​life and human life in particular. Human beings amaze her with their complexity and their achievements. And life in general is full of exciting colors and aspects for a once inanimate object. However, there is a person who will do anything to prevent Noa from gaining freedom, and it is not even Cohen... "I" is a reference to a chapter name from Gustav Meyrink's novel "Golem." Characters are not based on any writer, but they have references to "Golem" chapters' names.

I made up the color but I made her while working on my sona for myself, I like her design a lot I should've used a reference her torso is a little short idk. I thought of writing an anthology series for her.

Louis Armstrong (1901–1971) Armstrong relied on music to lull himself to sleep. Before he could get into bed, however, he had to administer the last of his daily home remedies, Swiss Kriss, a potent herbal laxative invented by the nutritionist Gayelord Hauser in 1922 (and still on the market today). Armstrong believed so strongly in its curative powers that he recommended it to all his friends, and even had a card printed up with a photo of himself sitting on the toilet, above the caption “Leave It All Behind Ya.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “All music is folk music. I ain't never heard a horse sing a song.” ― Louis Armstrong #dailyrituals #inktober #LouisArmstrong @masoncurrey

Been developing in a way to free myself from external reference-based OC concepts, which was where I started from in drawing. In a way, exploring how I view characters from my own eyes. Here, is an example of drawing myself in two contrasting counterparts. Personal preferences are actually pretty simplistic by appearance.

(Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) A piece for Inktober, but one which references the way some artists self-censor so as not to offend anyone.

I was feeling listless about this inktober until I picked up Daily Rituals : How artists work by Mason Currey. I immediately knew that I want to do these portraits for the inktober. FRANCIS BACON. At the end of these long nights, Bacon frequently demanded that his reeling companions join him at home for one last drink - an effort, it seems, to postpone his nightly battles with insomnia. Bacon depended on polls to get to sleep, and he would read and reread classic cookbooks to relax himself before bed. #inktober #portraits #francisBacon

my memory is my recent character i made so far inspired by serial experiment lain. my memory is partially self projection. a computer scientist who lost a student he was close with and saw them as their own spent 20 years creating a new project to commemorate his former student, emory. after 20 years, the project was a success, a humanoid machine has emory's memories stored in her and everything feels like deja vu for my memory. a confused and curious my memory must learn to function in society as a robot.

The concept for this painting started as a design for a pumpkin carving contest. I felt the message of the design is so important for people to hear, I decided to make it into a painting. The original design, done in pen and ink. The design only shows the two doors of the entrance to a fortress. I tried to keep the design simple, because the carving event is both timed and live. You must create your masterpiece on the pumpkin they provide, on their location, Infront of live spectators. The evolution of the design? I added a wall on each side of the entrance, with matching pillars. Explaining the design of the pillars The triangle top: the triune God. Representing three persons of God: Father, Son, Holy Spirit. The cross shape opening in the pillars: The cross is the only path to God, to have the debt of sin satisfied. To reconcile humankind back to himself. To be released from being a slave to the Devil. To be a new creation empowered by God Spirit. Explaining the design of the entrance way(gate) The top of the entrance is in the shape of a heart, represents the seat of human passion, ambition, and allegiance. The cultic three petal flower is used to represent God in three persons united. The symbol inside the flower: God’s ministry toward humankind. Crown: Highest authority Cross: God’s loving salvation and restoration plan. The dove: Spiritualty made alive, fellowship with God, empowerment to weather the storm of life, and equip for service to God. Change in the design of the door. In the original design, one door had roses carved on it. The pattern took up the whole door. The other door had a grape vine carved on it. The pattern took up the whole door. I modified the emblem on the doors by making them smaller and simplified, so I could place them inside heart shapes, so the new images would more clearly communicate what they are meant to represent. I also added color to the emblems (color pencil) to make them clear of what they are, because of their size and the ink medium ,they were hard to interpret. Understanding the symbol of the two doors. The door with the rose inside the heart emblem represents a heart whose passions, ambitiousness, allegiance are focused on the cares, worries, and abstaining riches of the world. Only giving God lip service. I chose the rose to represent the heart of spiritual allegiance to the world, because roses are pretty, but you can’t eat them to nourish your body. They also have thorns that can cause injury to the body. So, the parallel point is, just as flower fade and turn to dust, so will the person who chases the thing of the world and has no time for God. For life is very short, we know not which will be our last breath on this side of eternity. But if a person leaves this earth without excepting the gift God offered them which is salvation from penalty of sin and given enteral life through the work that was done on the cross by God’s son. Then that soul will appear before Jesus, and just as they did not know him in their life on earth, He will tell them he knows them not. Into the lake of fire, they will spend eternity. The door with the grape vine in the heart emblem represents a heart whose passions, ambitiousness, allegiance are for God. To know Him intimately, to obey His teachings, to serve his will. I chose the grapevine to represent the heart of spiritual allegiance to God, because grapes are nourishing to the body. Jesus also used a grape vine in one of his parables. He paralleled the spiritual relationship he had with his disciples and the grapevine. He told them just as branches of a vine must depend on the base of the vine to live and bare fruit, so they must abide him to have abundant life. Abiding in Christ is not a religious act. It is outside of religion. It is an intimate relationship. Example: you can belong to a fan club of Paul McCartney and know a lot of things you have heard about him, but he doesn’t even know you exist. Where, if Paul is your father, and you have a good parent to child relationship, then you know him intimately. So, abiding in God, we commune with him through read his word and living by its teachings. It is spending time in prayer. Sharing our hearts with God and spending time listing to him. Trusting in him as our provider and giving thanks for his provision. Living our lives, with the purpose of pleasing him with the work of our hand and loving our neighbors in the workplace as well as in the community. Just as a healthy grapevine continues to grow and produce much fruit. Having an imitate relationship with God should be more and more evident in the way we live our lives. So, when the angel of death pays you an unexpected visit, he escorts you to Jesus’s throne, you know for certain he going to welcome you with loving arms and said welcome home my faithful servant. Now to which door I chose for my life? It’s the one that is open. This bible verse one of a couple that inspired me to design this illustration. 1 Corinthians 3:12-13 King James Version 12 Now if any man builds upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble. 13 Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. This verse is not referring to the rebellious people who have rejected God, this is referring to people who are children of God, who failed to serve God faithful. Written by Stephen J. Vattimo. 3 Jan 2024 Evolution of the design of this painting. I believe God through His Holy Spirit guided me to change the crosses on the two pillars, one on each side of the doors. Instead of these windows being fill with darkness, which would represent death by crucifixion, which Jesus endured for humanity, that who so ever is willing may be delivered from the power of sin and be adopted by God to become a member of His family. I was inspired to put light in both cross windows. The cross window on the side the open door, with the grape vines on it, the light matches the color of the light that is coming out the windows of Icons shapes representing the ministry of tri union God. The color I used is a bright firry orang yellowing color. For the bible says God is a consuming fire. The cross windows on the side of door with the flower on it, I used the color greenish yellow lite; to represent a false light, the bible call it a form of Godliness without power. Who so ever tries to approach God another way, than the path God has ordained. They will not be received. The Devil distorts the truth, to lead many to their demise. The only way to know the difference between truth and fallacy, is to study God’s word. Written by Stephen J. Vattimo August 7,2024

A homage to Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam", in which Christ, the second Adam, emptied himself of His divine stature, and took the form of a lowly servant, enduring the shame of the cross (Philippians 2:6-8), so that He may redeem His bride, the church. Further references: Ezekiel 16:8, Isaiah 6:10, 1 John 4:10

I find myself working on perspective and that what came out.

#embracingnightmares - im getting these selfies down pretty good now i think

Happy Earth Day! Today we should reflect on at least one thing we love about our planet. Is it your favorite place in nature to visit? Your favorite animal? A favorite memory from childhood? Now the next step to ask yourself is what part am I playing to preserve our earth? All it takes is one action from you to make a difference. Collectively we will make a difference.

Suddenly the light goes out and staying in the dark is a test of resistance, but when everything seems lost, it turns on again, so simply: sometimes a single attempt isn't enough, there are many moments to spend without light, but you don't have to be afraid of it, because sooner or later we will succeed in the undertaking and it will make you smile as the thing that seemed so difficult came spontaneously, it was enough not to force the process. I hate the darkness because it shows me a version of myself that I would never want to meet, yet if I accept that the punches of life in some periods are stronger than others, sometimes leaving bruises and burns, but that life itself has granted me caresses like this sweets that I would not have appreciated without going through pain, then everything around me will seem golden. I can only appreciate the hatred and wonder of it. I can feel those caresses, I can savor them with the same intensity with which I feel the pain of the punches, because ultimately they give so much: the strength to take another step, to not give up right now, right now that I am so close to feeling them in my heart those precious caresses.

Hourly comic day. Every year I swear to myself that I will do the Hourly comic day on February 1. Every year I fail to do it. This year I even added it to my calendar. And still... The hours run away from me and then I think to myself - who wants to know the hours of my day. And I think to myself - nobody. So I don't. Maybe next year.

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.