Previous
Next
logo logo
logo logo
  • Discover Art
    • Trending
    • Most Recent
    • Most Faves
    • Most Views
    • Curated Galleries
  • Drawing Challenges
    • See All Challenges
  • Drawing Prompts
  • Artists
    • Most Popular
    • Most Recent
    • Available For Hire
    • Artist Spotlight
  • More
    • Marketplace
    • Art Discussions
    • Resources
    • News + Blog
Login
Most Recent
Select an option
  • Most Relevant
  • Most Faves
  • Most Views
  • Most Comments
  • Most Recent
SEARCH RESULTS FOR

spread

Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
Enlarge
A creature

I crawled right up to Daddy's modelling mirror which stands on the floor by the box of plaster. A great big black creature was creeping towards me. I got cautious and stood still. The creature was shapeless. It was one of those creatures that can spread itself out and creep under the furniture or turn into a black fog that gets thicker and thicker until it is quite sticky and gets all around you and fastens itself to you. I let the creature get a little closer and put its hand out. The hand crept along the floor and then was pulled back suddenly. The creature came even closer. Suddenly it got scared and ran quickly in an oblique direction and stopped still. Now I was scared. - Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson #dailydrawing #tovejansson

  • 28
  • 1
  • 1
Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
Enlarge
God

God lived on the hill above the rock-garden and there was a forbidden cart up there. At sunset he spread out like a mist over the house and the field. He could make himself quite small and creep in everywhere in order to see what one was doing and sometimes he was only a great big eye. Moreover he looked just like Grandfather. We raised our voices in the wilderness and were continually disobedient because God so likes to forgive sinners. God forbade us to gather manna under the laburnum tree but we did all the same. Then he sent worms up from the earth to eat up the manna. But we went on being disobedient and we still raised our voices. - Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson #dailydrawing #tovejansson

  • 59
  • 2
  • 2
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Big Stretch

Meadhbh stretching after a long pose. Sketchbook work from November 2025 2025, Ballpoint Pens on 5” x 8” (10” x 8” Double page spread) Sketchbook, Adobe Photoshop

  • 54
  • 3
  • 2
BeastGurl1989 BeastGurl1989
Enlarge
Nox Portrait (Colored)

"Baby, I'm the prince of darkness. I spread pain and despair. Darlin' I'm your worst nightmare." -Nox-

  • 52
  • 8
  • 1
Embracing nightmares Embracing nightmares
Enlarge
The skull of Deepwood

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

  • 85
  • 2
  • 1
nils walter nils walter
Enlarge
How To Recover Stolen Crypto From An Investment Scam. Visit Salvage Asset Recovery

Meeting with Salvage Asset Recovery wasn't actually easy, I never thought such a great service existed, I read so many articles online about crypto recovery and at first I had an in-law who got scammed in the year 2021. Then I never knew that scammed funds could be recovered until I fell into an investment scam last year July, 2023. I lost $861k USD to online investment scam, all document from the FX trading investment company where scam and also their acclaimed legal document with fake stamp, they indeed actually succeeded in fooling me until i got rescued by Salvage Asset Recovery legitimate recovery service best experts, it's a self owned private individual hacker who is well trained for crypto currency stolen funds recovery service, their service are such an excellent one and also Mr Marvel from Salvage Asset Recovery is such an understanding being as well, i explained to him and he got into the job, firstly you are to know a true recovery hacker by their first approach and their claimed recovery process, Marvel requested for the scammer information when i have it all submitted there where some transaction i didn't talked about it simply because it was out of my thinking so i couldn't locate where i save some of the scammer information, they made use of several wallet address, Marvel was able to use the wallet i provided for him to track out other wallet address of which i then attested to and Salvage Asset Recovery research was very right and correct so i trusted them more and proceeded, This recovery process by Salvage Asset Recovery took them 48 hours to get completed and finally i received a bit more than what was scammed from me. Such a honest service deserve to be referred in other to spread global and also encourage those who got scammed to write Visit Salvage Asset Recovery Via Below Whats app....+1 8 4 7 6 5 4 7 0 9 6 Telegram..... 16592200206

  • 3
  • 0
  • 0
Amanda Harris Amanda Harris Plus Member
Enlarge
Spreading

Macro photography.

  • 7
  • 1
  • 0
Joselo Rocha Joselo Rocha
Enlarge
Why only Happy new year ?

A cheerful sun rises over a blue horizon with colorful rays spreading outwards, accompanied by the text "happy new day!" in playful lettering. a vibrant and optimistic piece of art.

  • 164
  • 6
  • 0
Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
Enlarge
Mark Twain

Mark Twain (1835–1910) In the 1870s and ’80s, the Twain family spent their summers at Quarry Farm in New York, about two hundred miles west of their Hartford, Connecticut, home. Twain found those summers the most productive time for his literary work, especially after 1874, when the farm owners built him a small private study on the property. That same summer, Twain began writing The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. His routine was simple: he would go to the study in the morning after a hearty breakfast and stay there until dinner at about 5:00. Since he skipped lunch, and since his family would not venture near the study—they would blow a horn if they needed him—he could usually work uninterruptedly for several hours. “On hot days,” he wrote to a friend, “I spread the study wide open, anchor my papers down with brickbats, and write in the midst of the hurricane, clothed in the same thin linen we make shirts of.” Whether or not he was working, he smoked cigars constantly. One of his closest friends, the writer William Dean Howells, recalled that after a visit from Twain, “the whole house had to be aired, for he smoked all over it from breakfast to bedtime.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” ― Mark Twain #dailyrituals #inktober #MarkTwain @masoncurrey

  • 348
  • 2
  • 0
Marina Marina
Enlarge
After Zero: Riddler x OC

Cover for my fanfic i writing for "Batman: Zero Year" comic. After Zero: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63498001 "I bloom, a flower fair and bright, A needed thing, for two, a light. In hearts' soft garden, breezes play, I grow in strength with each new day." The Riddler nodded patiently, his eyes half-lidded in boredom. Amber devoted almost all her energy to keep reciting this stupid rhyme that she had composed and practiced until she turned pale from exhaustion. The remaining part of her energy was spent on NOT clutching her jacket. "But then, a worm, with wicked bite. Gnawed at my grain and dimmed my light. A spreading blight, a change so foul. Cursed my existence, took its toll. My two companions, caught in strife. Began to gnaw and hurt their life. Absorbing poison, bit by bit. They both grew sick, they couldn't quit." "…" “Who am I?" The Riddler lazily raised his eyes to the sky and just as slowly raised his hands. "Love!" His voice was full of theatrical reverence. He didn’t even pretended that the riddle made him ponder over it. "To be more precise — twisted love. Am I right?"

  • 114
  • 2
  • 2
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Meadhbh taking a Nap

Sketchbook work from October 2024 2024, Ballpoint Pens on 5” x 8” (10” x 8” Double page spread) Sketchbook, Adobe Photoshop

  • 254
  • 12
  • 4
TimShch TimShch
Enlarge
50heads #4

Spread #4, charcoal. This is Maytree, a South Korean a cappella group.

  • 81
  • 3
  • 0
TimShch TimShch
Enlarge
50heads #3

Spread 3, oil based sepia and red chalk.

  • 42
  • 3
  • 0
TimShch TimShch
Enlarge
50heads #1

Sketchbook #11. Since the 100heads challenge was real tiresome for me, I devised myself another challenge - "50 heads". Basically it's a "100 heads challenge", but for lazy people) The rules are simple: I had to draw 10 two-page spreads of 5 heads, no time limit, no nothing. And I decided to use different materials for each spread. Spread #1 - ballpoint pen (+ a little bit of watercolour) - NEMOPHILA.

  • 54
  • 9
  • 1
Sam Snyder Sam Snyder
Enlarge
Thats how germs are spread

That's how germs are spread

  • 8
  • 1
  • 1
Nicole Nicole Plus Member
Enlarge
Sketchbook Spread

Moleskine Sketchbook Spread

  • 12
  • 3
  • 0
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Recent sketchbook drawing…

Meadhbh in front of wall of plants. 2024, Ballpoint pens on 5” x 8” (10” x 8” Double page spread) acid free Moleskine sketchbook paper, Adobe Photoshop.

  • 192
  • 6
  • 6
Robert Falagrady Robert Falagrady
Enlarge
Bed spread friend

  • 155
  • 2
  • 0
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Sketchbook Work - February 2024
1/5

2024, Ballpoint pens on 5” x 8” (10” x 8” Double page spread) acid free Moleskine sketchbook paper, Adobe Photoshop. Meadhbh with her fuzzy sweater.

  • 356
  • 7
  • 3
n4mdia n4mdia
Enlarge
a infection spreads like widefire, dont they?

a infection, nothing else

  • 8
  • 1
  • 0
Gabriel  Relich Gabriel Relich
Enlarge
Astronaut Meets Moon Mason Bee - Under a Hostile Sun RPG

The Moon Mason Bees spread life throughout the galaxy in the world of Under a Hostile Sun! Astronauts love them. Hate them. Hate to love them and love to hate them. The Moon Masons are larger than cars, have the curiosity of squirrels, the hive mind of insects and endless mutagenic powers. https://muckraker.itch.io/under-a-hostile-sun

  • 6
  • 1
  • 0
WaterproofFade-Proof WaterproofFade-Proof
Enlarge
Auren Portrait

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.

  • 278
  • 2
  • 0
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Sketchbook Work - Nina Simone - December 2023
1/4

2023, Ballpoint Pen on 5” x 8” (10” x 8” Double page spread) acid free Moleskine sketchbook paper, Adobe Photoshop. Based on a photo (by David Redfern/Getty Images) of the singer, songwriter and civil rights activist performing at the BBC Television Centre in London, January 1966. Last sketchbook piece for 2023. 2024 will be my last year on this platform - thank you all for appreciating and following my artistic progress.

  • 460
  • 7
  • 0
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Sketchbook Work - NatSeated - November 2023
1/5

2023, Ballpoint Pen on 5.5” x 7” (11” x 7” double page spread) Midori FO Cotton Sketchbook.

  • 264
  • 4
  • 1
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Sketchbook Work - Bored Meadhbh - October 2023
1/5

2023, Ballpoint Pen on 5.5” x 7” (11” x 7” double page spread) Midori FO Cotton Sketchbook.

  • 278
  • 7
  • 2
Spearmint Chalk Spearmint Chalk
Enlarge
The Fall of the Tower of Babble

I take a lot of Genesis as an allegory for birth and maturation, both individually and collectively. The Garden of Eden could easily be interpreted as the womb, and we are all cast out of it at some point. Genesis 2:24 says "This is why a man leaves his father and mother and bonds with his wife, and they become one flesh." Though people use this passage to refer to the tradition of marriage, I think that it speaks to something much, much deeper than that. Literally, when two people copulate, they create a child that is of one flesh. They do not "become one flesh" because they engage in a ritual institution and are now "to be viewed as comprising a single identity," but they literally become one flesh because their genetic compositions are joined into a new being (Mark 10:8 and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. 9 What therefore God has joined together, let no man separate.”). That being said, I read somewhere once that babies born in every part of the world make phonetic sounds from pretty much every language in the world. It is only after a period of time that they start to key in on certain sounds that the people around them are making, and it is only after that that children key in enough to start developing more advanced language skills (typically). However, in this original state, there is a freedom. There are no assumptions. There is an innocence in that state. There is a lack of judgement. There comes a point at which babies/young children begin to mimic and to incorporate what they are experiencing from the creatures around them into themselves. To small creatures with an undeveloped sense of self or reality, the caregivers around them may as well be gods, at least from their perspective. They will learn from these gods around them and will begin to embody their cultural beliefs, their language, their idiosyncrasies, and their perceptions, often on a deeply unconscious level. Adults contribute to that quite thoroughly and somewhat consciously. (Genesis 1:26 Then God said, “Let Us make mankind in Our image, according to Our likeness..") (Genesis 11:7 7 Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech.) In our own way as individuals, we are each a Tower of Babel, and at some point, for each of us, that Tower fell. Barriers to communication of so many kinds were created for and/or by us. Perhaps we still spend time constructing new barriers and thinking up new ways to distance ourselves from the rest of our kind. I chose to use the phrase "materialism" to express how children engender these attributes of caregivers and others alike. However, this can easily be exchanged for a phrase like "socialism," or "corporate capitalism," or nearly any other thing that you can probably think of. Children are like sponges. They soak up even more than we realize. Most widespread religions in the world have some form of renunciation belief or ritual wherein an individual must 'cast off' the old self and put on the new. This is because, regardless of where or when a child is born in the world, the perspectives of the people around them raising them will likely leave much to be desired. It is necessary for beings to continue to learn, and this often entails a serious consideration of what was instilled into them at an earlier time. It is quintessential that we question and evaluate these things since the state of the world will have changed by the time that we reach maturation. The ideas that people gave us may apply to a world that is already different. The story of the Tower of Babel may refer to a state that earlier humans lived in, perhaps on a shared continent, in which the manners in which they communicated were similar. Then, at some point, perhaps these same peoples went off on their travels and developed new languages. In a funny way, we seem to do that as individuals. At some point, we strike out on our own, even if only a little. Though we may differ on surface level behaviors and in the symbols that we use to describe the human experience, human beings are more or less fundamentally the same. We let our differences create so, so, so many barriers between ourselves and other beings. Just think of all of the harm that things like xenophobia, racism, intolerance, and a lack of an ability to communicate verbally with one another have done to our species. Even beyond that, just think of how easily we dismiss the inner lives and inner experiences of creatures different than ourselves simply because they do not communicate verbally with us in our preferred tongue. Research is overwhelmingly in support of other beings communicating with others of their kind, whether we as individuals acknowledge it or not.. Some of us are just really into denial about it. We could achieve remarkably wonderful things, if only we would learn to recognize the similarities of our experiences. (Matthew 19:6 So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”)

  • 3
  • 1
  • 0
Brianna Eisman Brianna Eisman
Enlarge
Stylized Poppies

This sketchbook spread features a stylized pattern of colorful poppy flowers. The garden of flowers includes leaves of green, yellow and peach. The flowers are yellow with blue stems. The drawing as a whole has a whimsical and playful feel with a bright color scheme, polka dots and organic squiggle shapes, and blobs of seemingly random colors. Please check out my website ArtsyDrawings.com for more by me, Brianna Eisman. Thank you!

  • 1,248
  • 8
  • 0
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Sketchbook Work - Meadhbh kneeling - August 2023
1/4

2023, Ballpoint pens on 5” x 8” (10” x 8” Double page spread) acid free Moleskine sketchbook paper, Adobe Photoshop.

  • 445
  • 10
  • 0
Isadora Griffin Isadora Griffin
Enlarge
Mr agbadi

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.

  • 350
  • 8
  • 3
Joer_B Joer_B
Enlarge
Fearless
1/5

The fearless Ms. Sinead O’Connor. 2023, Ballpoint Pen on 5.5” x 7” (11” x 7” double page spread) Midori FO Cotton Sketchbook.

  • 202
  • 6
  • 2
 
Next »

Doodle Addicts

Navigate
  • Discover Art
  • Drawing Challenges
  • Weekly Drawing Prompts
  • Artist Directory
  • Art Marketplace
  • Resources
Other
  • News + Blog
  • About Us
  • Contact Us
Newsletter
© 2026 Doodle Addicts™ — All Rights Reserved Terms & Conditions / Privacy Policy / Community Guidelines
Add Doodle Addicts to your home screen to not miss an update!
Add to Home Screen