Are the places of your dreams real? Will we ever make it there? Only the people who are there now, know. (Working on a big art project, this is a small side drawing I did while in a drawers block)
It’s easier to remain silent for someone
whose words only ever got twisted.
(spoke in other forms though)
Running from what?
Nothing. And everything.
Until they fell off the edge - or flew-
and plunged into an epiphany where words can’t
even translate,
can’t touch you.
“Don’t you come looking for me”
on the wind.
Meet Dr. Lorna Breen. She was in the trenches of the front line inside the New York hot zone during the first wave of the pandemic. She saw the massive influx of patients she knew she could not save (29,000 deaths reported in April, 2020). She contracted the virus and after recuperating, went straight back to work. A week and a half later, the hospital sent her home. Her family intervened to bring her back home to Charlottesville, Virginia. During her visit with her family, she seemed “detached.” She passed away April 26, 2020 at the UVA University Hospital in Charlottesville from self-inflicted wounds.
"She tried to do her job, and it killed her… Make sure she’s praised as a hero. Because she was, she’s a casualty just as much as anyone else who has died."
—Dr. Philip C. Breen, Father
Morning warmup sketch/doodle with Krita. I seem to have a thing for wood nymphs exploring nature.....or maybe I have a thing for naked people in the woods? Who knows.
This was inspired by portraits from the 1920's. I've read that some girls who adopted the flapper style only wore one earring because their hair covered the other ear.
Whoever be born on Friday or is night, he shall be accursed of men, silly and crafty and loathsome to all men, and shall ever be thinking evil in his heart, and shall be a thief and a coward, and shall not live longer than to middle age."
From "A DICTIONARY OF OMENS AND SUPERSTITIONS" by Philippa Waring
https://www.instagram.com/p/CCi5jJEhTuJ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
The lord of winter has had many wives throughout his life and many half god children. Wren and Wilder are two of them. Twins who do mischief in an attempt to get some attention from their distant father.
>> Anxiety—the most common of all mental disorders—currently affects about one in 13 people (7.3 percent). This is how I felt when I struggled with it. Support your relatives and friends who are struggling with it! It means a lot!
Made by: Autodesk Sketchbook
Another "Sick Day Scarecrow" I did recently getting over a cold. There's too much comic stuff to get into to explain this, but in summary its a parallel universe Scarecrow I decided to design who is more of a superhero. Kinda.
(Blue biro on 125mm x 75mm notecard) A third in the guardian spirit works that I've done. When it comes to these kind of things, who wouldn't prefer a pistol-packing angel like that?
It has been a delight to share with my students the incredible resource of people. Over the years, I’ve had the great privilege of connecting them with inspiring individuals such as Lois Ehlert, Dave Nice, Gregory Martens, Colette Odya Smith, and—as seen in this “Behind the Professor” sketch—Dr. Gaylund Stone. There’s something powerful about the presence of someone who lives their craft with humility and depth. In moments like these, my students are reminded that more is often caught than taught.
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.
2B pencil focusing on the eye, nose and mouth. The reflection today is a suggestion that we find what we look for, and we see what we want to see. Our family dinners include a sharing time of: 1. Who blessed you today? 2. Who did you bless today? and 3. What are you thankful for? It is suggested by some that if you focus on the abundance, you will not see so much of the lack, but if you focus on the lack, you will not be able to see the abundance so well. This was illustrated by the questions: "How many red cars did you see on the way to work this morning?" My answer was: "No Idea!" It is because I was not looking. If I was being given $100.00 for each red car I spotted, I would have certainly been looking, and maybe even getting creative with the definition of 'red'. What are you looking for? What are you finding?
A vibrant exploration of color and line, this piece captures the ephemeral beauty of red plum blossoms in a textured, contemporary sketch style. Perfect for those who appreciate the intersection of traditional botanical themes and modern, expressive artistry.
(2B pencil on 147mm x 133mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
Patron Saint of Obscure Patron Saints.
Thank you for all who shared your own Patron Saints, who commented and who encouraged me. This was really fun to do.
#patronSaint #dailyDrawing
This painting is based on an empty street at noon, when the sun is right above us scorching heat. the street look empty looking for a shade. I chose to show the street at 2pm where the sun slightly leans towards down.
The whole painting is done on parallel lines. If you notice closely the lines of building and the road meet parallelly.
For this fifth day of this week about pets today it's the turn of Phineas and Ferd's pet platypus, who although he seems like an animal that doesn't do many things, he's actually a secret agent when no one's looking, none other than Perry the platypus
This is a scanned pencil sketch of a picture that I still want to work out. The whole thing is supposed to be a kind of fantasy landscape. The castle depicted does not have to be historically correct either. I will try to work it out in Procreate. It's a great programme, but unfortunately I'm not yet as proficient as I'd like to be ... As soon as there's any progress, I'll post it here!
Regards
Christian
GLOOSCAP AND THE BABY
From Favorite Folktales from Around the World byJane Yolen.
Glooscap, having conquered the Kewawkqu’, a race of giants and magicians, and the Medecolin, who were cunning sorcerers, and Pamola, a wicked spirit of the night, besides hosts of fiends, goblins, cannibals, and witches, felt himself great indeed, and boasted to a woman that there was nothing left for him to subdue.
But the woman laughed and said, “Are you quite sure, master? There is still one who remains unconquered, and nothing can overcome him.” In some surprise Glooscap inquired the name of this mighty one. “He is called Wasis,” replied the woman, “but I strongly advise you to have no dealings with him.” Wasis was only a baby, who sat on the floor sucking a piece of maple sugar and crooning a little song to himself. Now Glooscap had never married and wasignorant of how children are managed, but with perfect confidence he smiled at the baby and asked it to come to him. The baby smiled back but never moved...
#dailydrawing #folktales #kidlitart #babies #algonquian
