I was fortunate enough to to take my sketchbook class to observe medical students dissect donor cadavers. These donors gave there bodies to science to further our knowledge of the human anatomy and to train our future doctors. We worked alongside the med students and anatomy fellows. It was a humbling and fascinating experience.
Queen inspired by the nicotiana alata flower (which is called Night's Queen in Romanian) and the Greater Death Shead Hawkmoth which feeds with the flowers nectar.
Following the daily painting challenge with Lisa Congdon over at CreativeBug though I haven't quite managed to keep up daily. Still, it's wonderful picking the brush up again and splashing around with paint!
"Girl & Death". What started out as two separate pieces for Upfest in Bristol, slowly merged into one collaborative painting. On the left my part, on the right the artwork by Luke Gray (http://lukegray.net)
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,
Creating a doodle mural on wall with craft paint and brush. For more details, visit my blog here http://dharmakarmaarts.blogspot.com/2017/01/art-on-wall.html
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.
I take pride in experimenting with different photo exposures to bring out new dimensions in my creations. My work never feels complete, as there's always more room for exploration. I invite you to view my upcoming uploads from all angles as I bring them to life through my artistic expressions, such as dance, writing, or meditation.
I've been absent from the site for months, due to working on a book. But now that I have a bit of spare time, I've been dabbling in watercolours, something I haven't done in years. A bit rough to start but I'm enjoying it.
A hand-drawn illustration capturing the quiet beauty of a slow afternoon. Featuring a traditional tea set and a bursting vase of purple wildflowers against a sun-drenched window, this piece blends the "Sunday Reset" aesthetic with timeless botanical charm. Perfect for tea lovers, art collectors, and anyone looking to bring a touch of "home sanctuary" vibes to their walls.
