I wasn't a big fan of this piece, but my parents really enjoyed it. It's something that they can enjoy without having to like the place where it came from. It's sort of like a still life.
This is an original painting of a secluded cove in the trees. I’ve tried sharing my art before and for criticized and accused of plagiarism when I drew an original animal that resembled that of another. I assure that my works are original. If they aren’t, I will give credit where credit is due.
I'm trying to improve my character design skills, so I asked twitter mutuals to let me dress their ocs. This is Dust and she belongs to @bb_schwarz - https://twitter.com/bb_schwarz/status/1074741896616894464
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.
