This was part of a collaboration I did with another wonderful artist over on YouTube. We picked the theme of our favourite folklore characters to draw.
In the Palm of Your Hand, Pen and india ink on paper. playing around with graphic like images inspired from nature, having lots of fun and thinking wallpaper, pillows, tablecloths as well as prints might be interesting
I like the notion of Poison Ivy from Batman being a sort of vengeful Mother Earth. I sometimes wish Mother Earth would give us the smackdown. We deserve it.
Public art show "Cruisin the Square" for our town, Pontiac, IL. Local artists were given a fiberglass car or truck to alter as they wished. I turned mine into what might happen if I journaled on my car as I traveled Route 66.
I hand a hankering for some good Argentinian style steak one afternoon and went to this delicious place and stuck around to have a pastry (or two) Ballpoint pen
(Red biro on a 89mm x 139mm postcard) When technology becomes so intrusive on our daily lives that we feel we simply can't live without it, then perhaps the one-eyed man is truly king.
A horizon of chalk—black sky heavy with silence, gold earth glowing with embered breath.
Between them, a thin line of turquoise, the pause where one world ends and another begins.
It is not sky, nor sea, nor sand alone. It is the threshold—a doorway, where silence teaches and light remembers.
Stand here long enough, and you may hear it breathe.
inking and seeing for better being — https://forming20.com/
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.
