A quiet study of restraint at altitude. Framed through an aircraft window, the world below drifts by while the interior remains still—objects worn, familiar, and waiting. Subtle distortions in perspective and muted tones emphasize the tension between motion and pause, progress and endurance. This piece captures the discipline of waiting while suspended between departure and arrival, where patience is not passive, but practiced under pressure.
*PS photo 1 finished is is better is better then photo 2 is inked ver.*
*ps my og inked sketch is lost media so i used finished to photo edit on Google photos an inked since my cam roll rsndomly deleted it...
#24 Anime girl doodles - I think I drew this sometime last year 2025 - I just never bothered to upload it. Most of it was sketched on Magma.com and part of the inking process was finished in Ibis Paint, with only minor adjustments in photoshop. I do all my digital inking on an iPad pro, and I use those hollow aluminum capacitive styluses that you can get very cheap just about anywhere. I prefer them over the apple pencil because the apple pencil is too slippery and heavy. More uploads coming soon...
An illustration from my sketchbook. I used it as a header for a blog post I wrote here: https://substack.com/home/post/p-177688791 It's a warning about the mark of the beast. I recommend you to take a look!
This piece continues my ongoing tool series, focusing on objects shaped by use, precision, and repetition. The speed square—an essential instrument of measurement and accuracy—is rendered with attention to wear, markings, and subtle imperfections left by time and handling.
Isolated against a minimal background, the tool becomes both subject and symbol: a quiet reflection on structure, angles, and the human need to measure and make sense of the physical world. Like the others in this series, it honors everyday labor and the overlooked beauty found in functional objects.
The Tool Bench marks my 50th canvas—completed exactly one year to the day after I finished my very first one. This piece is a tribute to work, memory, and the quiet corners where both creativity and responsibility live.
Drawn entirely freehand, it’s built like a snapshot of a lived-in workspace: mismatched tools, worn wood, scribbled reminders, and the little personal things that actually make a place yours. The clipboard holds a “Honey-Do” list that never seems to end. The Polaroid-style sketch of my wife sits taped to the wall like a reminder of why the work matters. The shadows on the back wall match the tools lying on the bench—suggesting a moment in progress, a task paused, life happening between motions.