Love the way this one came out.. Art is my favorite thing in the world. Here there is probably people that can understand this feeling, this passion. The more you do art the more you want to do art, and the more you need it. Art is amazing.
The Japanese say you have three faces. The first face, you show to the world. The second face, you show to your close friends, and your family. The third face, you never show anyone.
The angel featured here looks a little bit like she was barfed out by Tim Burton. I drew these while I was watching Westworld. (Feel free to just talk about Westworld in the comments if you'd like.)
Recently, I was asked to illustrate the Discworld as imagined in Terry Prachett's work. The illustration (24 "X 24") was printed on a self-adhesive vinyl and applied to the mandator's car.
Before you is a touching tale of true friendship between a capybara and a mouse. The capybara is the world's largest rodent. If you google "capybara friends," you'll see that there are a lot of instances of other species just hanging out with them in the wild. For some reason, all animals are attracted to the capybara. I'll wait while you look this up.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
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!
In fact, she [Mummy] said after a while, we have gone into hibernation. Nobody can get in any longer and no one can get out!
I looked carefully at her and understood that we were saved. At last we were absolutely safe and protected.
This menacing snow had hidden us inside in the warm for ever and we didn't have to worry a bit about what went on there outside. I was filled with enormous relief, and I shouted, I love you I LOVE YOU, and took all the cushions and threw them at her and laughed and shouted and Mummy threw them all back and in the end we were lying on the floor just laughing.
Then we began our underground life. We walked around in our nighties and did nothing. Mummy didn't draw. We were bears with pine needles in our stomachs and anyone who dared come near our winter lair was torn to pieces. We were lavish with the wood, and threw log after log on to the fire until it roared.
Sometimes we growled. We let the dangerous world outside look after itself, it had died, it had fallen out into space. Only Mummy and I were left.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
This piece critiques the modern tendency to hide identity behind brands and consumerism.
* Visual Focus: The mask is partially obscured by a fitted baseball cap, with the bill pulled down to cover one eye. The cap itself is a symbol of brand identity and fast-fashion culture. The uncovered eye retains an unsettling, almost mechanical gaze.
* Symbolism:
* The Cap: Represents the societal practice of hiding behind brands and allowing consumerism to dictate self-worth and block out unwanted truths. The act of seeing is deliberately curtailed.
* The Mask: Emphasizes that the consumer identity is often a façade-a manufactured mask that prevents others from truly
"seeing" the individual, while simultaneously restricting the individual's full sight of the world.
