
Another Self-portrait Sunday, this time in gouache


This is a portrait of my internal asshole step-dad who it’s been increasingly difficult to suppress the more burned-out I get. Thankfully, relief measures are being implemented, ’cause he sure is ugly.
Ohuhu markers in my sketchbook


Burnout isn’t fatigue.
It’s where you’ve pushed far past your limits—and you can’t rest, but you also can’t keep moving.
11×14 acrylics on stretched canvas


This painting was commissioned as a Christmas gift for someone who lost their beloved cat, Oscar.
Painting memorial portraits is always an honor. They’re about love, not just loss. If you’ve ever loved an orange cat, you know.


As I was falling asleep one night, I had the brief image of this sentient coal creature rising up out of an ancient mine. I don’t know what it means, but the image struck me.


Estonia’s Minister of Social Affairs said that RFK Jr. was “cuckoo in the head,” and this made me giggle.
Watercolor and fine-liner pen