Crown (Inktober 2025-03)
I never really decided whether this bird is an eagle, or a vulture. Either way, its contempt for the crown is absolute.
I never really decided whether this bird is an eagle, or a vulture. Either way, its contempt for the crown is absolute.
Search mercilessly for what’s inside, even if you have to unstitch yourself to get to it.
A loose, grungy portrait of an intimidating man for Inktober day 01.
A portrait in pen and ink, mostly neck. Some thoughts about looking inward by looking upward.
Still exploring the landscape of faces — old faces, expressive faces, faces that speak in many voices at once.
“the forces of nature move with them” // Fall as a season of purposeful movement, the transition between the nervous, chaotic energy of summer and the frozen stasis of winter.
Actually, inside me there is just one wolf.
You have two? That must be very uncomfortable.
Oops, it seems to be coming out.
There is nothing like going through your old Internet stuff to trigger some contemplation about impermanence… and maybe also some theories on the nature of the universe as artifact, held together by the Gorilla Glue of fate.
with a shank / in his stocking, / a rose / in his tea, // ain’t this / a fellow / we’d all / like to be?
Welcome to Fall, don’t forget your hat and your club!
When you’re practicing faces and figures a lot, it’s easy to start getting obsessed with them. So maybe add some cool hair as a distraction.