In wanting to get active with my fellow doodler community, I wanted to stop in and introduce myself. My name is Dalton Stark, I live in Texas, and i'm a doodle addict, and an advocate for the possibility of anything. For me, doodling is my purest state of being human. My sketchbooks are a very sacred place for me to practice this expressive and arcane form of imagination meditation, which I'm always trying to find more excuses to spend more time in. It is to me, all about intuition, making discoveries, surprising yourself, having fun and maybe even making yourself and others smile or laugh sometimes. I look forward to being a part of this beautiful inky ecosystem with y'all, here are some very secret sketchbook spreads.
Part of a series of drawings following characters on a journey through strange and chaotic zones of a gigantic metropolis. I really enjoyed using the Sakura brush pen for this one.
These illustrations are part of an ongoing series on anxiety I started in early April 2018, as part of #The100DayProject. (See @helloanxiety_illustrated on Instagram to see more complete stories of each individual). This project is an extension of the fear illustrations I've been creating since 2012 (www.fear-illustrated).
This is part of an ongoing series. This time we pass through The Great Exhibition and meet the different characters there to view art or just to socialise and hang out.
Just finished the excellent EXPLORING Kourse (Sketchbook Skool), I had to set my own agenda. I am trying to get used to using watercolors. I like it when they don't fill the page entirely. Here is an archerfish trying to catch an insect by spitting at it,
I am an art teacher with a master’s degree—trained by brilliant professors who believed that art could do more than decorate walls. I offer safe spaces for teenagers to grow—nourishing soil where their imaginations can take root.
And yet… I am assigned to hallway duty.
This is compulsory education, after all.
So I sit—posted like a sentinel—watching young lives stream past.
“Get to class,” I say with a smile and a nudge.
The system wants attendance; I’m hungry for presence.
Armed not with a whistle or clipboard, but with a pen—
my scribble’s soft insurgency.
The hallway stretches out like a geometric hymn.
Columns and corners chant structure.
Teenagers swirl past—half-formed galaxies of limbs and laughter—
their orbits chaotic, their gravity pulling time forward.
I begin to draw.
Not their tardiness, but their motion.
A shoulder. A blur of sneakers.
A tilted head chasing freedom.
Feet flickering like seconds.
Each mark a pulse.
Each smudge a breath.
My paper becomes a seismograph of seeing—
trembling gently through the mundane.
This isn’t about making art for a frame or a feed.
It’s about refusing to leak away in the fluorescent hum of obligation.
It’s a quiet mutiny against the clock.
I do this on long car rides, too (passenger side, mind you).
Letting the lines grow wild, jagged, and unapologetic.
Not for polish—
but for presence.
This is how I remember I’m still alive.
Still growing.
Still watching.
Still choosing to see.
Because sometimes mental health looks like
a piece of scrap paper,
a moving pen,
and the simple, sacred act of
marking time with wonder.
Gorgeous little Rupert the West Highland Terrier. He was drawn using black fine liners on A4. Love doing the animal portraits... I love it when their little eyes suddenly peep out the paper! Available as an A4 print.
This is the 5th piece that I painted during my train journey. I painted this scene after passing so many bridges, i was wondering how the people from below might see us when the train is crossing the bridge. A group of girls ( students ) got excited when I showed some of my paintings. So I gifted one of them this (●'◡'●)
This is the 3rd piece that I painted during my train journey. I painted this scene after missing my greeny patches on house from outside. I didn't like how this painting turned out to be. But still fine T_T
I got sick, it's hard to draw...
there are no ideas, so only Too-tiсky (i still love moomins brbrbrbr)
Honestly, the art is pretty weak for my bar.. I kind of like which way my painting is moving, but my recent works has been distinguished by attention to the background or inscriptions... A simple filll somehow already seems to me flawed in MY work.. At the same time, in other people's drawings i even love it... As we say in my country, everything brilliant is simple...
I don't know why I'm messing around in vain... Well, let's put it down to the fact that I'm especially physically unwell today
A character concept drawing of a pirate vampire character I created for a collab writing project that died. His clothing and even his hair borrowed aspects from various jelly fish as inspiration. " The snap of inky sails catching the wind punctuated the subtle wooden creaks of the Sea Nettle as it slid over glossy black waves. The night was oppressive. With the moon obscured by clouds, the ship, with its doused lamps and its dark wood was nearly invisible as she crept closer to her prize. Tallis stood on the forecastle, one foot propped against the railing, his hands supporting a spyglass. He drifted the lens between the lights below deck, counting each of them and making note of any movement on the upper deck and in the rigging. A single sailor was at the helm. Another was lazily standing beside him, possibly engaged in conversation that distracted him from his watch. This was to be expected, not many would dare to disturb such a well-equipped vessel of the Luthen royal fleet. Nettie's crew was lesser in numbers, but they were experts in what few on the high seas could manage. Tonight, would be a quiet strike. Open combat spelled unnecessary danger for his crew."
I pride myself for not being into internet drama or spreading gossip, but i do have a guilty pleasure. Mohammad agbadi is a youtuber who talks about problems with the art community, like tracing, theft, harassing and difficulties with etnic representation. Hopefully he wouldnt mind me borrowing his face to practise drawing black men... even though i heavily overworked his skin.
you step carefully around the purple flowers blooming sporadically across the forest floor. it is very late at night, and you know that you shouldn't be wandering this uncharted planet on your own at this mysterious hour. but something in the trees beckons you subconsciously. as you begin to clamor up steep, untread areas of the landscape, you discard you burdens--a first aid kit, your water, all the suddenly unnecessary contents of your pack. something primitive roars inside of you. your pace increases; you now feel the shear closeness of whatever you are chasing so starkly. your feet and hands slip as you grasp onto the trunks of trees and throw your feet ahead of you with such purpose. at last, you arrive at a clearing--and there she is. and she is like nothing you have ever seen before. she is not human, far from it, but your passion for her claws at every inch of your insides. she is not like any creature that has walked earth or neptune. she is something entirely different, and you have fallen in love with that--with her.
"Untitled," 8×10, Scratchboard: I think it's become evident that I enjoy making portraits no matter what the medium is. I still find it fascinating how much eyes can say, and they can usually fill in the gaps where words fail. I took a chance using Scratchboard, but I think it worked out, I'm pleased with it. I suppose this is a new member of the Black and White Portrait Club :)
Now a name change would be great since I still haven't changed her name at all (I mean she was my first OC I thought of when I was 12) Hate the wings since basic demon wings don't suit her or black angel wings (I will keep drawing her wings differently)she wears a long tunic like top similar to a blazer,she wears trousers instead of tights and her fingers are covered (all alceridians have covered hands)and white boots.I hate how she's easier to draw as a person than as a Alceridian maybe because I rarely draw her in her true form.Redesigning characters can certainly be time consuming,I might draw her more better soon.
I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."
