One of my biggest supporters and best friend passed away recently. My Grammy. My Grandpa has been gone almost 10 years now. So, in real life, whenever a blue butterfly showed up it was Grandpa coming to check on Grammy. Now, she's a butterfly going to be with him.
The meal was my attempt to bring a little comfort into the rugged outdoors. The sketch was my reminder—to hold onto the moment, even when mosquitoes, ashes, and deflating air mattresses had other plans.
Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence
This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete.
But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains.
When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing.
So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal?
Perhaps presence itself is the real art.
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.
My fiancé's aunt just had a birthday. I asked what she is into for this piece. "She likes Hello Kitty, flamingos, the beach, and volleyball." This is what I came up with.
Another one for my friend. Not only does she own a pizza shop. She is also a huge Grateful Dead fan. I couldn't help but have her dancing with one of the bears
I just finished this for a friend. He is in construction and it seems like we're always talking philosophy and where we fit in the universe whenever we're working on a project together.
I found out recently that a good friend of mine's dog passed away. I didn't know how to react so I drew this for her. Ellie was a great dog who loved people and adventures. She's not gone. She's just on a new adventure, making new friends.
So, my sister asked if I would draw her unborn baby as a movie monster to hang in the nursery. She loves the Thing from 1982. This is what I delivered. Apparently, I went a little too disturbing for a baby's room haha gonna have to go another route. The small photo is from her ultrasound
I am amazed summer after summer seeing this tree and garden grow. I started this with a blue background and a black layer that I punched through, and from there, I painted layer by layer from the back to the front. I like the realism I got, but I kept to a painterly feel using oil brushes.
The Sunbeam and the Troll. Illustration of famous Finnish song. I draw three versions of it. Top of the drawings is last and then second and first one. I try to catch idea that Sunbeam fairy is more made of light than materia. Pretty tricky to me ;)
”When sun had ended its mission,
The last Sunbeam
Was left behind her sisters for a moment.
The dusk was settling on the grounds,
A Sunbeam with golden wings
Was just about to fly before it,
But she saw a small Troll come across:
It had just risen up from his cave.
See,a Troll before the twilight
May never live on earth.
They were looking at each other
The Troll in his chest
Felt an odd flame.
He said:"You are burning my eyes,
But never in my life
have I seen something so wonderful!" It doesn't matter that your brightness will make me blind
It's easy to wander in dark.”
I was pretty much done with this Jane, but she hadn't told me what she was saying yet. Then my 18 year old daughter came in, and nervously said "Mom...I did a thing..." She proceeded to show me her freshly tattooed fingers. Suddenly, Jane spoke...
What do I have to so to make people fucking listen to me?! (c) Smart people problems.
I'm almost done first page of my comic, but got distracter by this my meme in my head.
I got fed up with her because she wasn't happy. I don't like it when people find life difficult. It gives me a bad conscience and then I get angry and begin to feel that they might as well go somewhere else.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
One year towards autumn a geologist was living in the pilots' hut. He couldn't speak either Finnish ow Swedish, he just smiled and flashed his black eyes. He would look at people and immediately make them feel how surprised and happy he was to meet them at last and then he just walked on with his hammer and hammered a rock here and there. His name was Jeremiah.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
