wonder

'Oh how wonderful life would be, if I had my own little house in a tree!' This one was created for the Urban Explorer Challenge and I loved every minute of it! As a lover of the natural environment I had to draw on where my heart lies so a treehouse seemed a fitting response!

Tabby Cat....commission for vets. He looks very proud of himself this young man! I am lucky enough to get to draw all these wonderful animals for a vet. He provides the families with an A5 portrait print of their pet as part of his VIP club. This means I have all the original A4 drawings which i am happy to sell.

Had a wonderful morning at Perry Lake painting this scene from the harbor. The soothing harbor sounds and a flock of pelicans taking a rest on their way to Texas were my companions. Swipe for a few detail shots. Also... a bonus fly for your nature enjoyment.

New one shadowed & ready for color. Drawn with a Pilot Custom 823 FA (favorite pen at the moment) with Noodlers 41 Brown on Strathmore Mixed Media paper.

I wonder what kind of music he likes? Inktober drawing.

Happy Thanksgiving! This is "Sunday Wonderland," colored with Holbein watercolors on 6x8 paper. May your Thanksgiving be as bright & happy as pictured here! (And may you ride a horse-thing, too.)

I had a wonderful time creating this commision for a Kansas City Personalities wall mural installed in a downtown KC apartment building. The wall measures roughly 12’ x 20’. These were all hand drawn graphite and charcoal drawings that I scanned into my mac and delivered digitally. The file was then enlarged and applied to the wall surface.

Pencil drawing of the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland

Did you ever have a page in your sketchbook that was so bad and so embarrassing that you tore it out and chucked it? This was one of those pages that made me cringed every time I came to it. So today I said to myself, "ENOUGH!" and ripped it out of my moleskine. But something wouldn't let me throw it in the can. Now, I'm not one of those artists that can't bring himself to throw away any of his stuff because each and every piece, good or bad holds some kind of sentimentality or sense of importance. This particular page was a result of a crappy angst filled day and stuff poured out of me. For some reason, it felt like I was throwing away some piece of my soul. There were parts that were overworked and others that were painfully too personal. So I decided to cut it up and put it back together in no particular order, however it seemed best. As I was pasting the pieces down it occurred to me that this had a comic book feel so I scanned the final and added the black borders in photoshop which I really dug. I like that it is cryptic and jumbled up like my brain can so often be. This reminded me of the awesome @johnhendrix who said something in his book, Drawing Is Magic that stuck with me. He said, "Don't worry about doing anything wrong. If you're hoping your sketchbook turns into a glossy display of only your best drawings, you are not carrying a sketchbook, you are carrying a portfolio." In other words, explore, take chances, loosen up and have fun. Try your best to go at it like an uninhibited child. In so doing, you will stretch as an artist by avoiding repetition and predictability. We all know how to do what we already know. To sum up, I created a bad page, and whether or not I was able to fix it, it expanded me. So, follow your pencil, pen, or whatever and let them take you to places you never imagined when you started. Then, maybe you will end up staring happily at the final and with childlike wonder, say, "man, where did that come from?"

Little illustration drawn using fineliners.

Standing on a block (while two men sit up top), The horse is deep in thought, wondering "Where can we walk?" He's distraught 'cause he knows that there is nowhere to go, And it does no good to tell them, they'll just say "I told you so."

The Sunbeam and the Troll. Illustration of famous Finnish song. I draw three versions of it. Top of the drawings is last and then second and first one. I try to catch idea that Sunbeam fairy is more made of light than materia. Pretty tricky to me ;) ”When sun had ended its mission, The last Sunbeam Was left behind her sisters for a moment. The dusk was settling on the grounds, A Sunbeam with golden wings Was just about to fly before it, But she saw a small Troll come across: It had just risen up from his cave. See,a Troll before the twilight May never live on earth. They were looking at each other The Troll in his chest Felt an odd flame. He said:"You are burning my eyes, But never in my life have I seen something so wonderful!" It doesn't matter that your brightness will make me blind It's easy to wander in dark.”

This is a universe full of wonder and flowers.

My first submission to inktober 2018 on day 5. I'm not sure if I will make up days 1-4. It all depends on a wonderful thing called time. Arrrrgh!

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.

This quick sketch of an impressionist painting is a reminder to me of how we cannot see anything until we are taught to see it. I was enjoying the painting because of the way Tarbell captured light, when a man and his wife joined me. The man said to his wife: "This is a wonderful painting, but I wonder whose lap the baby is on.". I was shocked because I was not able to see the baby till he mentioned that there was one. I noticed that it was indeed difficult to tell whose lap it was on. It was a transformative and humbling experience.

A wonderful reflective poem from Wendell Berry entitled "How to be a poet" is a fantastic foundation for an art curriculum. The last of three stanzas reads as follows: Accept what comes from silence. Make the best you can of it. Of the little words that come out of the silence, like prayers prayed back to the one who prays, make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came.

To draw is to notice. To notice is to pause. And sometimes, all it takes is a barefoot boy in a camping chair, chasing the drips of a popsicle, to remind us what it means to be here. This is Popsiclence—a sacred kind of focus. It’s where observational drawing leads us: out of the swirl, into the now. And in that now, we heal.

Reflecting on the first week of this new year we’ve entered…

“You must go on a long journey before you can really find out how wonderful home is.” - Tove Jansson, Comet In Moominland.

“By all means grow old, but don’t mature. Remain childlike, retain wonder, the ability to be flabbergasted by something.” - Billy Connolly. Happy new year Doodle addicts!

And just like that… it’s December!

Where did Monday go indeed...

Narwhals out for a walk and wondering… usual stuff, really.

I have given my students the problem of creating 100 self portraits in 20 days on 5x7 in paper. The challenge is to create something other than an image that depicts a 'dead-pan' stare. When the brain is given a problem, it goes to work immediartely to solve that problem. I have seen some wonderful solutions. This is a tall order for teens who are sensative to judgment and still developing in thier perception. It has generated wonderful discussions of self-awareness, world view, and judgment. Those who engage in the exercise in an authentic manner have only good things to say about the experience. It is not an exercise for everyone. We are on a journey. Be Bold! Be Honest! Draw what you see. Draw what you think. -Peace

As a child of the 70s, I have very fond memories of sitting on the floor in front of our little colour TV, and watching and adoring Lynda Carter bounce around, kicking ass and fighting crime. I’ve always loved Wonder Woman, and I'm fascinated by the myriad ways she’s been imagined and re-imagined over the years. For mine I focused on her dualism – the goddess beauty vs warrior strength, combined with the colour and curves of my childhood. In terms of the art, I thought it would be fun to allude to classicism for the subjects association with Greek mythology and form, and balletic contrapposto as a homage to Lynda's classic spin. Prints available via my website.

A rabbit wondering about what he sees around him.

Wonder what's at the end of the rainbow...