Professor Abb Sunkin. Chief experimentalist, faithful servant to the president. Known as the final-lab executioner for my cell-mates, or « that asshole » – as I overheard – for the experimentalists under his command.
In fact, she [Mummy] said after a while, we have gone into hibernation. Nobody can get in any longer and no one can get out!
I looked carefully at her and understood that we were saved. At last we were absolutely safe and protected.
This menacing snow had hidden us inside in the warm for ever and we didn't have to worry a bit about what went on there outside. I was filled with enormous relief, and I shouted, I love you I LOVE YOU, and took all the cushions and threw them at her and laughed and shouted and Mummy threw them all back and in the end we were lying on the floor just laughing.
Then we began our underground life. We walked around in our nighties and did nothing. Mummy didn't draw. We were bears with pine needles in our stomachs and anyone who dared come near our winter lair was torn to pieces. We were lavish with the wood, and threw log after log on to the fire until it roared.
Sometimes we growled. We let the dangerous world outside look after itself, it had died, it had fallen out into space. Only Mummy and I were left.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
It got cold very quickly and the fog was there, moving thickly around us, shutting us in on all sides. The smooth swell rolled out of the fog, crawled under the raft with a swallowing movement and rolled back into the fog the other side.
....
Albert picked it up by the neck and looked at it, and it began to screech and flap one wing.
Let it go! I shouted. Everything looked so terrifying with the fog and the black water and the bird creeping around and screaming that I was beside myself and said: give it to me, I'll hold it in my lap, we must make it well again.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
I turned the key and waited. After a while the door opened of its own accord, very slowly as if someone inside the wardrobe was forcing it. And then the black tulle skirt poured forth and the door stood still. I did the same thing several times. Each time Mummy's tulle skirt opened out as it is was alive.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
Grandfather was a clergyman and used to preach to the King. Once, before his children and his children's children and his children's children's children covered the face of the earth, Grandfather came to a long field which was surrounded by forests and hills so that it looked like Paradise. At one end it opened out into a bay for his descendants to bathe in.
Then Grandfather thought, here will I dwell and multiply, for verily this is the Land of Canaan.
Then Grandfather and Grandmother built a big two-storey house with a sloping roof and lots of rooms and steps and terraces and a huge veranda and placed plain wooden furniture everywhere inside and outside the house and when it was ready Grandfather began to plant things until the field became a Garden of Eden where he walked around in his big black beard. All he had to do was to point at a plant and it was blessed and grew until it groaned under its own weight.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
So some of these images are concepts covers for Monster. I'm done setting dates. When I finish it, I finish it. But until then, concepts.
Monster is going to be story based on mental health with a mix of religion. I have stories inside and they are scratching to get out. But the struggles are real and I'm trying to get the images out and onto the screen, paper, and ink.
(2B pencil on 180mm x 136mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
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.
(2B pencil on 140mm x 130mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
Up on a hill, deep in Deadwood
Lies an old shack, that fosters no good
Inside this shack floats a very old being
To seek it out, is to regret such a meeting
A blue floating skull, who brings sweet promises of doom
Sits all alone in a dark four corner room
Why is the reason, this being is there
Why does it beckon one to come near
Its lonely and bored
So it calls out to you
The skull was once mighty and powerful too
Causing great pain on subjects like you
The beast of an age
Caught by a mage
imprisoned in here
no longer to torment the world and spread fear
But just being caught wasn’t enough
It stifled its power but its will, was left uncorrupt
The skull, now a seeker of dreams
Destroyer of love, life, and of schemes #embracingnightmares
"Mask Up" by Ty Tatmore (2024) is a powerful and unsettling piece of contemporary social commentary. This work throws the viewer into a scene of post-apocalyptic anxiety where an individual, wearing a striking conical hairdo and a defiant "MASK UP" t-shirt, sits amidst the wreckage of a dilapidated room.
The artist uses dark humor and surreal imagery to explore the cultural tensions surrounding public health mandates and personal responsibility. The sign "CHOOSE WISELY!!" acts as a stark warning, while symbols like the gas mask and the Scream mask and also wearing a mask suggest a spectrum of survival and fear. The massive explosion breaking through the window is a haunting, almost surreal symbol of the unstoppable outside forces impacting daily life.
With its raw, graphic style and intense atmosphere, this painting is a memorable and thought-provoking statement that captures the isolation, uncertainty, and dark irony of living through a moment of global crisis.
Some days the demons inside take control and now your a walking meat bag with no say. Some could say zombie, mind control, or the darkness laughs as it pulls your strings. But you all think your in control and have it figured out. But when you wake, it will be hellish and a nightmare. But the question is...Will you be able to handle it? Or will you fall back to sleep?
The Skyscraper to the Moon and How the Green Rat with the Rheumatism Ran a Thousand Miles Twice.
Blixie Bimber's mother was chopping hash.
And the hatchet broke. So Blixie started downtown with fifteen cents to buy a new hash hatchet for chopping hash.
Downtown she peeped around the corner next nearest the postoffice where the Potato Face Blind Man sat with his accordion. And the old man had his legs crossed, one foot on the sidewalk, the other foot up in the air.
The foot up in the air had a green rat sitting on it, tying the old man's shoestrings in knots and double knots. Whenever the old man's foot wiggled and wriggled the green rat wiggled and wriggled. #dailyDrawing #rootabagaPigeons #carlSandburg
I get these random thoughts and ideas. When they come I need to get them out like a parasite that eats you from the inside out. But yes, this one started with the expression and body pose. I scraped the rest of her body because I didn't like it. But since I like strong females that are ready to stand and fight. The more I colored and came to close the picture, I had a thought. Sometimes inside of my head I get too many voices that talk and tell me what I am. Some are truth but some are lies. Well those voices, ARE MANY!Just like Legion, they are many. So this picture describes mental health and spiritual warfare that happens on the daily.
Side Face Model Portrait Art by Oz Galeano
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I had a sketch in my notepad and it was a side profile. So I thought I would try it out on my procreate. I will have the finish one uploaded...whenever.
