Morning sketch. So I was waiting for a go ahead on a 20 illo project. One of the illustrations in the project is a pair of “Chucks” so in the meantime I did a much crazier than they will be wanting version. Sometimes you just have to please yourself without all the boundaries.
Mixed media. Acrylic, pencil, digital. This is a piece from the book “Mail Me Art - Medium Without A Message” by @littlechimpsociety. I think it was the second call for entries/book.There are now 4 books filled with awesome art drawn and painted on outsides of envelopes and packages by artists all over the world who then mailed them to the UK totally exposed to the postal service. The original was all analog. I brought this into Procreate and reworked it. I may do more when I get a chance but I’m pretty satisfied with it now.
When Rebelle 3 by Escape Motions came out I wanted to create something that really shows off its power. I normally draw in fountain pen first, but this was created entirely from scratch in Rebelle 3.
Digital art tends to be cold and impersonal, but Rebelle's watercolor simulation looks & feels like real paint... and you can undo! That's critical for illustration work, as clients often request changes... But even for personal work- it means an artist can achieve a watercolor look without being at the mercy of the medium. So the result is more true to his or her vision.
It’s always good to find some drawing time on vacation. We went to some weird random small towns in Washington and a ghost town called Burke with some particularly interesting history. I had Cheers playing on my phone while I drew this but no similarity is intended. It’s a classic show but it would have been better without the distracting laugh tracks.
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.
Many people walk past plants either without noticing them or with just a glance. For the Walmajarri people in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, and many other Indigenous groups, plants provide a source of food and medicine. These outlines are of plants that are used by Walmajarri people as either food or medicine. For most people they remain a mystery, hence the outline only.
I do browse some weird things on places like Youtube, without a doubt! Definitely in the search of inspiration 9 out of 10 times though (as you can see)...
Imagine trading your soft bed for a deflating mattress.
Imagine food cooked under ash, a fire that smokes more than it warms.
Imagine waking at dawn with stiff muscles, yet finding yourself strangely alive.
This sketch is not just about tents, cars, and campfires.
It is about the in-between—where inconvenience and beauty wrestle, and something deeper sneaks in.
Camping reminds me: comfort is overrated, but presence is priceless.
Im Kurt and new to Doodle Addicts. Loneliness and anxiety dominate my life and are reoccurring themes in my art. It wasn't until recently, after countless jobs, countless attempts, and thousands of dollars in school debt, that I realized it is what it is. At this point, I am trying to learn how to express myself through art and build a community without the pain from before. Negative or positive, I hope you feel something and will like or comment. #MentalHealth #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #ItWillGetBetter
This week’s been an interesting one for socialising in my world, no denying it. If I’m not getting acquainted with new folks at work or at my art clubs, it’s reconnecting with people I haven’t seen in 20+ years… certainly informed today’s piece, without a doubt!
The lake was busy with light, the grasses busy with wind, but the boat sat quiet against the shore. There is a gift in this tension: to be held still while everything moves, to be carried without effort, to find rest in the very heart of motion.
Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence
This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete.
But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains.
When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing.
So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal?
Perhaps presence itself is the real art.
Freehand sketching in ink from a photo reference I found online, to practice conveying that lots-of-stones look without drawing all the stones (photo credit: K. Mitch Hodge). Micron pens + alcohol markers.
"Lang may yer lum reek (a Hogmanay greeting, implying "May you never be without fuel for your fire!", but more literally translates to "Long may your chimney smoke!")" All this I corrupted and used to inspire me here.
I've burned through 6 weeks straight of non-stop drawing. I think it means I'm healing up from a painful relationship I needed to end. Sometimes we attract someone due to a perceived chemistry. Then one day we wake up and realize that chemistry is acid and this isn't actually love. This is a distortion. And I don't need to walk through this pain anymore. I've actually grown enough to recognize that being alone, without pain, is a thousand times better than being with someone who refuses to recognize their behavior. Some people have no idea that words can do much more damage than a weapon. Words can kill. If you can't control your tongue, then don't speak. Make this a rule for your life if you care for someone.
Once the curve flattens and we can all go about our usual businesses without potentially killing one another, let’s not forget all the good habits and so on we’ve picked up from staying the feck at home! Some sort of a summer will come, rest assured.
I've been seeing lots of new bird species around my neighbourhood, like robins and magpies!
I like to think this bird is watching me from the sea of uncertainty, and looking at all the things I will create in the future and secretly telling me to go on, without me knowing how they will turn out. And strangely, that is some kind of motivation for me. : .
Rad experience joining a local drawing group for the first time yesterday although I didn't realise how inconvenient my backpack was going to be, it made me slow to set up / pack up and a few of us had to organise a locker at the gallery as we didn't know backpacks weren't allowed so I spent most of today sewing a bag/sketchbook cover which fits an A4 sketchbook, pencils, id and phone and also has some backing in it so I can easily sketch on my lap without dropping my stuff all over the place. I'm going to do a bit more work on my weird comic book page tonight but in the mean time this is my sea serpent digitally coloured, he lives at Apollo Bay and likes to sleep camouflaged amongst the lifesaver rings.
An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
It's crazy to think that we've been in a pandemic for a year or to think we could ever get used to this new way of life. March 13th, 2020 was the day everything stopped for me: it was the last day I went to school and the last day I went to gymnastics for 5 months. The promise of two weeks' time, something I somewhat desperately held onto. Going into this, no one knew what to expect, it was the first time many of us saw life as we know it stop. Quarantine has definitely taught me a lot emotionally, mentally, and how to reach out and work through (and what bad panic attacks feel like :) ). I think it also goes without saying that I got through most of this because of the people around me, and I can't say enough how grateful I am to be surrounded by such amazing people. So, here I am. Life is still pretty rocky, but it's a process. Thank you to everyone who's been along for the ride so far ❤
I started doodling long back without even realising what I was drawing. It started with flowers and leaves and now here I am today. I hope you like it❤️
Threw together this pattern study last week. Been using Posca pens since December and I'm loving how quickly they dry. I can throw together quick sketches without having to worry too much about smearing the ink as I move along.
