To draw a forest so it's big enough you don't include the tops of the trees or any sky. Just very thick tree-trunks growing absolutely straight.
...
In a proper painting of a forest everything is roughly the same colour, the moss, the tree-trunks and the branches of the fir trees, everything is soft and solemn, half-way between grey and brown and green but very little green. If you want you can add a princess, for example. She is always white and very tiny and has long yellow hair.
Sculptor's daughter by Tove Jansson.
In the end I began to feel weak at the knees and then I knew that soon it would be too late, in a few seconds it would be too late, so I let it fall into the gutter and began rolling very quickly and without looking up. I kept my nose just above the top of the stone so that the room I had hidden us in would be as tiny as possible and I heard very clearly how all the cars stopped and were angry but I drew a line between them and me and just went on rolling and rolling.
You can close your mind to things if something is important enough. It works very well. You make yourself very small, shut your eyes tight and say a big word over and over again until you're safe.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
This is another dragon. They're the Bringer of Great Destiny, and basically tell you you're destined for good things. It was designed by my sibling, and this is a redesign I made. Sorry that it's hard to see. My camera is bad and my house is dark.
... is a tease for a dwarf; starvation for a giant.
x x x
This drawing isn't about cakes or Smurfs.
People have different needs in life.
People have different perspectives and different thresholds for things like fulfillment and pain.
x x x
"There is nothing in the world bigger than the tip of an autumn hair, and Mount T'ai is tiny." -Chuang Tzu
For a long period had viewed cryptocurrency as both a horizon of possibility and a landscape fraught with peril. My investment in XRP was meant to be a deliberate and disciplined step toward financial independence grounded in careful research and measured reasoning. Yet despite vigilance I became entangled in one of the most calculated frauds I have ever encountered.The ordeal began with an unsolicited approach from a man who styled himself as a broker. He spoke with eloquence about volatility cycles, algorithmic trading and insider strategies that promised to turn market unpredictability into consistent profit. The platform he introduced appeared impeccably crafted with real-time charts, seamless dashboards and a professional façade designed to inspire confidence. His promise was irresistible: daily profits, exponential growth and supposedly guaranteed returns. Though instinct urged caution, ambition and misplaced trust compelled me to transfer $85,000 worth of XRP.At first the illusion was flawless. My balance multiplied at a dizzying pace supported by polished reports and reassuring communication. I convinced myself I had made the right decision. But the moment I tried to withdraw the deception unraveled. Excuses surfaced such as verification delays, system maintenance and compliance reviews. The pretexts grew increasingly elaborate until without warning the entire platform disappeared. My login failed, the website dissolved and the so-called broker vanished into digital oblivion. My funds were gone.The financial blow was heavy but the deeper wound was humiliation knowing I had been manipulated so completely. In my desperation to find recourse I discovered Salvage Asset Recovery. Unlike the fraudsters their team projected candor and expertise. They offered no grandiose guarantees, only a clear plan of action: trace the stolen assets across the blockchain, analyze wallet addresses and engage with exchanges to intercept and freeze funds before they vanished into anonymity.Their pursuit was methodical. Using advanced forensic techniques they followed every digital footprint, identified laundering attempts and compiled evidence robust enough to withstand scrutiny. They kept me informed at every stage, never exaggerating progress, only presenting facts. Weeks later against all my expectations, Salvage Asset Recovery succeeded in recovering $70,000 worth of XRP. Though not the entirety of my loss it was an extraordinary victory and proof that justice in the digital wilderness is still possible.This reshaped my perspective. In cryptocurrency greed is the trap and vigilance the shield. Yet with the right expertise recovery can be achieved. For their relentless dedication, integrity and results I remain profoundly indebted to Salvage Asset Recovery. You can connect with them via below
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A whimsical illustration of a large horn-whale creature with fangs, an anchor tattoo on his fin, and a tattoo of how many ships he has sunk on his back, with a whale rider perched on its back, is surrounded by gentle waves. The contrast between the massive creature and the tiny rider suggests a playful narrative. The muted colors and simple lines create a charming and imaginative scene.
This year I had a dream where they, at that age and being Lego, were in The World That Never Was... ???
Printable version on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/destiny-trio-137915720
A mason jar filled with glowing fireflies casts a warm, bright light. The playful arrangement of the fireflies creates a whimsical and enchanting effect.
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.
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.
Turns out, leprechauns don’t need rainbows to find pot (of gold) in Amsterdam—just a solid set of wheels. This guy’s off to chase some lucky breaks, one tiny pedal at a time.
Illustration by me, because St. Patrick’s Day needed more bikes.
Hey guys! It’s been a while, but I’m finally back to drawing! I found a way to make it low pressure and easy to motivate towards, and that’s super tiny portraits. Enjoy the series!
Another one of these tiny canvas doodles. I stenciled out the eyes and teeth and used acrylic makers to color. Then finished up with a brush pen. These are a fun challenge
This delightful black-and-white drawing captures the lively and playful essence of a whimsical animal parade. Bursting with creativity, each animal character showcases unique traits and expressions, bringing a joyful scene to life. From the adorable, tiny mice balancing on top of each other to the elegant elephants dancing gracefully, the artwork is a breathtaking celebration of harmony and fun in the animal kingdom. With its intricate details and enchanting charm, this piece invites viewers to step into a world of imagination and whimsy where animals parade with joy and carefree spirit.
A recent doodle of mine completed that was requested by my sister. This was done with Pigma Micron pens sizes ranging from 0.005 - 0.08. The main star of the show was my 0.01 pen. I loved the tiny detailing and shading my expanding my line giving it the realistic effect.
I find it awe-inspiring to watch crewed shuttles launch. This 3.5" x 4.5" acrylic on custom tiny canvas captures those first few moments after lift off. I used modeling paste to really emphasize the depth of the dust cloud, and I love that it adds a tactile element to it.
I still haven't had the pleasure of seeing this fascinating phenomenon with my own eyes, but someday I will! I painted this scene because I'm one of those weirdos that loves snow and sees so much beauty in the quiet winter scene. Acrylic on 3.5" x 3.5" on custom tiny canvas.
The tiny hex cutouts of this canvas were the inspiration for the turtle, and I chose to put it on a beach as the perfect excuse to have more fun with texture medium! Acrylic on custom 4" x 3.5" hexagon canvas.
Currently reading anne brontes classic about a mysterious newcomer in a tiny town. I should probably have placed the motive outdoors, since she spend a lot of time there, but having her leaning over to try cover her past works fine for me. Maybe i get inspired to paint more pictures of the mysterious mrs graham as i get further into the book.
