I generally make marks on something every day, but I'm really TRYING to do it purposefully in one single journal at a time. I also have super ADHD, which means I pretty much never go up to my actual studio and usually only use what's out on my desk, because out-of-sight-out-of-mind.
A drawing of the Jules Dalou (1838-1902) sculpture. I would love to post more than one photo, but the site sometimes randomly duplicates one of my five images. 2023, Double Page Spread-5” x 8,” Ballpoint Pen on Moleskine Sketchbook.
The Jack Story from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson.
There was the Jack of the beanstalk story, and a Jack Sprat who could eat no fat. And there was Jack-in-a-box who used to spring out of a box for no reason at all. And Jack who broke his crown fetching water with a certain Jill. Not to forget little Jack Horner, or the jack who jumped over a candlestick...
Theirs is a club of Jacks.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CjniuMsuDWM/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
I can't draw guns lol,Ruthleen is a 30 year old crime lord who is in charge of exporting illegal firearms throughout various cities,she also launders lots of money along with her partner in crime Parslip longstem who's a parsnip vegetable.Both bring in millions of dollars in illegal activity.they are wanted for their crimes,Ruthleen and Parslip have a mutual relationship with Taffeliers who is a moody drug lord.Ruthleen came from a poor,dangerous neighboorhood and was raised by a single mother which shaped most of her personality,cold and restrained.
Drawing with my non-Dominant hand.
Cormorant sunning. The sight of these birds, regal and ridiculous at the same time , always lifts my spirit. https://www.instagram.com/p/CRmaOeAD0u_/?utm_medium=copy_link
World gone to hell
Sons duaghters leaving their families homes, dying of a new and namles plague. Where are the gods? And what has become of my hero? I am king, but no more subjects are under my command.
A kingdom falls. A new age dawns, the illest omens herald its bitter arrival .
God preserve us.
We have forasken god, they do not forasake us.
This is why we must be stricken with sickness. . . .. … …
Weep for me.
Weep for all our brothers and sisters.
And now every uncreative poet and halfwit bard seeks to make drama of our troubles.
We are their muse, their grand epic to tell the children.
Fear the virus, dont look away, disturb the dead, praise us for our lies to you. They lead the masses to slay each out of fear.
Cry.
Yes, cry
Cry for your fallen.
They will not be returning for you soon.
But you are still alive, and for that you shall become stronger.
Onward
We cannot always bury the dead. Today , time is against us. We move foward, we carry the sorrow, but the ultimate goal is to defeat sorrow. Whatever form this darkess takes, we face it. Unafraid. And unrelenting.
Forge on into the night. Not gently and quiet shall be our passing.
For, if i am to end, and you likewise, we plant our flag atop the highest hill.
We scream our battle cry and let none forget our actions
.
The very mountains will shake, and echo our last breath.
This is my promise.
If i shall die, i die as i am now
A man. I have decided.
So, i die
…..
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKXBKF6a2BWVDy_SgMvk8GQ?view_as=subscriber
These are the results from a request to create a piece based on a fathers son's nicknames. The older brother is the moon, second the bear, third the bird. Added the stars as the parents.
His first request was of a tattoo of sorts ...but I struggled and my drawings kept turning into children illustrations. I so enjoyed the challenge and it gave me an opportunity to honor the love of family. At the same time, it was hard to associate them into a tattoo:) .
