Thomas S Brown

A very good night to @hookland.bsky.social and goodnight to us all.

Good thought. Going into a things on/with paper line.

Nothing better, really.

We adorn buildings with lithic lookouts not just for their delivering of stern beauty, but because some atavistic element aches for protection. Soot=scarred they may be,, but we first set those stone spirits to watch what was beyond our own eyes to see. – #CLNolan, BBC National Programme talk, 1933

It's a mystery!! Looks damn good to me.

Nose about an inch from the drawing board on this one!

a border of strange flowers with eyes and vines, drawn in a semi Victorian style.

and here is what I have been doing today.
Colours on this and back to Rise from these Dark Waters by @mmdaviesostrom.bsky.social tomorrow.

Pencil drawing of a witch and a crow riding a paintbrush.

Aaaanyway, the world in general (and quite possibly you in particular) have/has much more serious problems. I'll try to be more of a force for good tomorrow.
Here's a witch.
We all need a witch.

It is a *fine* little mouse made of wood.

I know this too well, yes. Solidarity!

Goes without saying, I would absolutely not ever work for/with them.

Thinking a lot about the role of #illustrator as supplicant thing.
The solution may be to go back to producing things I can bring to people on my own, but that is also a form of acceptance, and I'm cross on our behalf. One publisher only looks at new artists at a cattle call at one specific event.

I can't disprove it!

It really is a morris dancing pigeon. well, a drawing of one. Border Morris obviously. Under a smiling crescent moon.

So, here is a morris dancing pigeon.

Victorian greenhouse glows gently among cherry blossom. Pencil drawing. Colour applied.

And good afternoon.
For myself, I am a stressfish.
Finding new ways to beg publishers to pay me for my work is my least favourite part of my job, honestly.
Big legal thing happening this month also.
But the sun is out, and I am alive and in good company. Yes, you)

!!!

Spring is told in bulb bloom, wild garlic crowding. Spring is told in stretching shadows, the waking of ghosts. For the gentle kiss of the sun is a summoning. Whether at meadow edge or a town's neglected alley, few things can refuse it's call. – #EmilyCBanting, 1982

The god pan looks over an industrial landscape with smoking chimneys and satanic mills (as it were) In the foreground. wild roses bloom. Pencil, watercolour wash, chalk and white paint on toned paper. Colour applied.

Good morning.

Goodnight to @hookland.bsky.social and to us all.

Just so.

ooohhhh!!

Brought to you by my publisher- @badhandbooks.bsky.social .

Get one, or so!

Happier with and in my work by factors of (insert shockingly large number)

No, that's completely fair-accurate.

so happy for you!! this is the best time for good news!

Treat yourself!

My solidarity with Mothin.

Sneaky teeth!

Sorry to hear.