Tomes Technique

Painterly visions in digital form.

Tag: Portraits

  • Focus

    Focus

    Another holiday under the hood and spring is officially underfoot. A fresh mow of the yard has revealed the yearly crop of meadow garlic. Sending up its scraps like a confession—each leaf a whisper of forgotten gardens. The concentrated wild onion is a surprisingly delicate combination with the lemony fresh magnolia. Maybe the world’s quietest mutiny is in the way wild flowers refuse to be domesticated. Roots cracking concrete rather than fists pounding walls.

    Where the divide lingers

    I’m liking the way the eyes are turning out. Outstretched, her hand is a glitch in the code, yet her eyes remain in focus. Her heart is on her sleeve. But her eyes? They’re not broken—they’re rewired, like a hacker reading the seams of the code. Holding space for her to exist without the spectacle, without the need to constantly prove her worth on any stage but her own.

    The hollow of the fox

    With his attention fully on his traditional wings, his face is splattered with sauce like it’s the blood of his chicken enemy. A map of culinary chaos, the sauce a memory of the hunt. not just the kill, but the weight of the chase. I’m inspired to do a quick doodle of the food zombie.

    Brody

    Spotlight on caricatures! After last week’s success and the former picture, I’m now having a moment with quickies. I am liking the roughness of the pieces. There’s a glimmer of someone inside. They are like breadcrumbs left for a stranger to find: they’re too much, too little, a joke, a truth. That’s the magic of a quick sketch: it’s a promise, a lie, a love letter.

    Maria

    Oh no. There’s a circus out there targeting the deaf and blind. The center has training wheels and there’s only a thin save below. Emphasis on the tightrope act. The safety net? It’s not there for them. It’s there for the rest of us.

    Walk the line

    New records are being made all over and most are not welcome. Sharpening the knives because most are finally seeing that the way to the top isn’t clean. It’s rough, it’s messy. It isn’t in the spring’s freshness, but in the space between the blooms—where the wild onion meets the magnolia, where the glitch meets the focus, where the knife meets the line.

  • Surprise

    Surprise

    I’m constantly dumbfounded by nature. There’s a special energy in the woods. Another jeep weekend done, I’m glad we got it in before the weather goes too cruel and makes it unbearable to be outside for any amount of time. The humidity. Ugh.

    Playful Bella

    Tony Stewart (not for real) and I went to the contemporary art museum and there was an artist doing live caricatures. My old man got one done and did not like it. Of course, I had to do one of him to make it up to him. I’m taken aback by how much he likes it.

    WhiteBear

    Staggering back into the woods sounds like a fun, I’ll have to see who I can convince to go camping at the springs this year. I dream of floating down the river without being in the process of severing the nerve in my lumbar. The water is stunningly gorgeous in its natural state. I need its inspiration.

    A little closer together

    As part of the 30 images that I’m doing for commission, baby doodles were requested. While doing these, I decided to sneak in a surprise of additional baby doodles for the requester.

    Evie & Papo Babies

    Summer feels like it’s coming before Spring can flash-dance around the state. I’ll be amazed if this one isn’t a real scorcher. Either way, I’ll be doing nite rides in the jeep until the bugs eat me alive.

  • Forgotten

    Forgotten

    Whoops. I forgot to upload this little guy last week. Still feeling out the green beer, I’m thinking. Please disregard the lateness.

    Parade

    Another huge commission project comes in. Oof. It’s 30 pictures deep. Bring it. I promise these memories won’t go neglected, I’ll try to give them the love they deserve.

    Andrèa III

    It’s not that I can’t, but it’s difficult drawing a doodle from an old grainy picture from afar. I can’t be sure of much in the black (green) and white (lighter green) abyss. I think a color print will be a nice surprise. A bygone day gets an update.

    Evie Jr. High

    Continuing to want to fulfill requests while also bringing in some surprise elements, I’ve added a young man to the foreground of the doodle instead of having him in a “photo” in the background of the scene.

    Family Time

    The wisteria is in full bloom! It’s exciting to watch all the bees buzzing about and take in that wonderful scent! The whole yard is purple. The overlooked tangles of the yard have blessed us with a week of joy before abandoning us for another year.

    Wisteria in Bloom

    Out in the woods again for the weekend. The wind is in my hair, I can hear the birds waking me; it’s like another world out here in the national forest. Out here, there’s time for playing in the dirt, getting stuck, or catching air in a vintage jeep. Get lost in the mud, it will make you feel like you’re a champion when you make it out.

    Talk to Me

    “Time may change me, but I can’t change time
    The calendar’s bleeding in a looped design
    Getting clearer, not kind
    I’m shouting at the shadow, but it answers in mine”

    Every Monday’s a mirror of a past recollection. It’s Groundhog’s Day still. Please send Bill Murray.

  • Loss & Gain

    Loss & Gain

    The psychiatric professional on my mental health journey has taken on a position within another company. I’m struggling with my personal loss, but so thankful for all that’s been gained. When I started this over a year ago, I didn’t know what to expect and now I find myself looking forward to those check-ins. I’ve had such a positive experience with this guide. It is my sincerest hope that this is a success in all aspects for him.

    Thunderbolt Strummer

    The Pros and Cons are at it again. There’s so much double talk and double dealing, it’s sad to watch the burning. Just the day before his death, I was looking at old videos for the former FBI Director. Who will take on that mantle now?

    Double Time

    The upside is another year alive, the downside is that life seems to be getting shorter. As winter blurs with summer, forgetting all about spring’s gifts, I forget what I’ve forgotten.

    1975 Birthday Card

    I’ve had pleasure of camping out in the boonies this past weekend. The highs and lows of the weather are just mean enough to make parts of the day almost unbearable. I imagine this is what it’s like living in the desert, only they have less humidity. I’ve also never been to so much as an Arizona airport to know the air. No regrets; We had friends to keep us company. It was the anniversary of a death that hit like a Mack truck and we celebrated it the best way possible.

    ‘26 Camp-out

    He’s not drunk, he’s happy. He looks drunk. I give in; this poor pup has gotten into the spirits. The highlight is that this was fun to doodle. The challenge is that it’s a failed attempt to capture a moment.

    Drunken ET

    I just got the call for a meeting with the hand-selected person for my mental health journey going forward. I’m nervously excited for not only myself, but for both my former and future “teammates”. We have opportunities to grab and obstacles to overcome.

  • Ghosts

    Ghosts

    This week has left me bruised, but no worse for wear. Taking yet another tumble, down the stairs this time around, I’m feeling less confident in my walking abilities than I use to be. There’s a ghost in the room.

    Are you real or just in my head? All these things I should’ve said. I’m not gone… never gone…

    The Red Thread

    I’m not the only one haunted. A certain second termer is finding he’s not Teflon. It may be winter, but it’s hot in the kitchen.

    Crisis Management

    Trying to recapture a moment, a feeling in the eyes. She looks right, but the pose is eluding me again. It’s a phantom moment I’m trying to capture.

    The Girl Who Watches

    I found her. She was hiding in plain sight; tracing her fingers over the seeds of tomorrow. Spring must be on the horizon. At least, the weather has felt like the equinox has begun. I wonder what shadow follows her light.

    (Whispering Fields) Where the Wheat Knows Her Name

    I guess it’s time for more yaoi, because there’s always time for yaoi. Mostly because it’s a request and I like fulfilling wishes as much as I like crushing dreams. The phantoms sing to me while I sleep. I’m spooked by the doodle I’ve brought to life. It’s less frightening than the real life boi love going on between these two.

    Doomed Lovers

    I need to counter all this energy. Puppers! Yeah, that’s some good healthy golden energy. I can’t help smiling at this precious girl.

    Playful Bella

    The week has been sampling me like a food court. The bruises will fade, as will my memory of this tumble, but the apparition pushing me down remains.

  • Nostalgia

    Nostalgia

    Per the usual, I’m missing a different time period. Each generation has its own unique gifts, but none seem to connect with me fully. I have a fleeting recollection of a time where it all seemed so much simpler.

    Debutante

    It seems I’m not the only one missing an era. A request comes in for John Lennon performing “Twist and Shout” on the Ed Sullivan Show. Last week’s Yoko needs her counterbalance. I’m here to oblige the sentimental.

    Hippy hippy shake

    While researching for the tarot project I’m nearly finished with, I stumbled upon some old stories of the Great Depression that seem written today. Regret and longing for a better living experience, we discovered hard work didn’t always equal hard cash. Being that my son has named his Labubu “The Great Depression”, I simply must have a doodle for the era.

    Cruisin’ down the street in my ‘64

    The sound of a breezy trumpet and a bumping retro piano is crackling through my mind. I need to make an instrumental. Until then, I’ll doodle this homesick feeling.

    Endless Tide

    I’m missing a real badass. Dewy eyed? No ma’am. This queen is pensive, yet stoic. A trip down memory lane leads to lamenting for ladies across the world. Wearing my dissent shirt, I’m asked if it’s Judge Judy. There’s a poignant poetry here, I’m just not sure it’s sweet.

    Notorious RBG

    Valentine’s Day has popped up. Like most annual celebrations, I’m indifferent, but it beats the alternative of not bagging another year for the life meter. Romance is playing in the forest. It’s more memorable than sweets or dying plant cuttings.

    Gotta catch them all

    In retrospect, the grass isn’t any greener, but the thoughts provoked blooms. The simplest truth is that it’s all a corny look back; a glamorized idea. It’s a reminder that it’s all relative. It was always better to grow from the languishing than to remain exactly the same.