Hello all overgrowers! Cannabis fuels my life in many ways, most of all my art! Let’s share our cannabis inspired or cannabis fueled artistry of any kind for all to see. I will kick it off with something cannabis helped me co-create.
I doodle. my style is 90% bay area street art, 10% comic book.
Here’s my spooky psychedelic San Francisco edition of Oleskool’s classic Austin catchphrase
“Onwards, through the fog”
@zephyr Love it, can’t wait to see more! Very “The Hermit” tarot vibe to it!
You a fan of the mandalorian?
These are great!! Love what you did with the sunglasses. I like your use of characters and the scenes you bring to us
Awesome creation guys ! Thanks for sharing!
Excellent work, I didn’t know what the convo was about… so that was my draw into the moment. Are these characterization of yourself and or others in your life? Do you have your idea and go straight to ink or sketch separate then fill the page?
@Heliosphear It has taken me a long time to understand my creative process, I meditate or play music until I enter trance state, and I just try to allow whatever I draw to pour out as it wants to, often by trying to grasp the ideas I mangle them and they come out less than the vision I had. This can be incredibly frustrating as a creator! Most of my practice for art is just meditation. I used to draw with only bic pen or ballpoint so my older work was all freehand ink, now I am in a period of art study using more professional techniques so that I can better bring my visions into this world. So I am just now learning to draw from pencil, and then outline and fill in after that. I will try to find a piece to use as an example. Also I like that you are drawn to create Bigfoot art, did you know Bigfoot, aka the wild man archetype, is a modern personification of the Green Man? Although I do personally believe in the existence of the skunk ape, the symbolism is fascinating because you also grow cannabis, and the green man is the ancient symbol of man and nature in union.
I understand the meditation state for PTSD, i have been sketching my whole life and all my ideas that make it to the page are dreams from the ether of many imaginations. The skunk ape, big foot, abominable snow people and cousin IT all play into my character eOGe. I believe in life on other planets and I know for a fact, all things are possible.
I like the slide of a ball point pen and a good marker.
I draw a lot of Celtic designs twisted into what pleases me.
Time passing… slowmo’s
Art is motion, 3D truspace.
And fun times.
Gosh I really like that memento mori piece. So much energy flowing in it!
I could watch sparks all day
I see you dance words too! Feel free to post those here as well if you like, word dancing is art too
Eleven thousand feet between, gravities tug turns to yanking at my guts.
Waiting for solo sailing flight of infinity, the last door I may ever step through yearns for me.
Chaos fills the metal bird, wind screw lifted flight, in the last seat… Seconds from the door.
Number one go! The jump master follows his target, I’m next! Panic… shuddering pulse becomes hammering blows to the chest, mind shares with the heart what it knows.
I watch the instructor for permission to cast fate into the winds of frozen time, Number two… is that how many hours have just pasted? Both hands hold a side of the portal to the world below, drifting powder puffs dot the horizon. Go! For a moment my muscles fail to respond, greasy wobbling sickness takes over… seconds of fear trail on to more. Rush of static electric vibration whips up my spine, leaping out of air stream into the great wide open.
Turbulence of acceleration in changing direction, motions, tumbling, visions of sky then land back and over… I regain precarious balance on the tip of fist pressing hard into my stomach, lashing at my face. Violent bone wrenching, twitching muscles convulse at my ever quickening pace and pulse, adrenaline slams into my forehead as my eyes take in… Flight. A human wing, free gliding through mother earths air mass. Falling sensation leaves me partially blind, tunnel of light, only pin point of ground visible. Blinking, squeezing hard and back like sneezing, toes curl as tension grows.
One second more, and then another… blackness ebbs back from my sight. I’m dropping back down from my up, one thousand feet in seven seconds, one hundred and twenty miles I could pass by in an hour. Fifteen seconds and the view is a round horizon for as far as can be seen. Mazes of rivers flow under bridges to blobs of lakes, I see a flock of white bird wings diving and shifting in unison.
Jump master stays at my sides and signals for a pull test, I complete twice with success… examining my mental composure in this fleeting moment, he’s sliding back with graceful control and I get another signal… I’m on my own. Free sensation like laying in water trying to float while fighting against sinking, in reverse. Thirty seconds and four thousand feet have flown by… the critical moment about to arrive, pull the cord to survive.
I notice with sudden shock, my breathing has stopped. Oxygen is penetrating my skin through every exposed pore, six thousand feet gone to history of memory, falling from the sky. Five thousand feet from terra firma, altimeter bleeps and flashes as the headphone resonates with the words… Rip cord now! Gripping the loop seconds before, swiftly snatching it straight out flat, drag shoot snags current and yanks a silky flower from my back.
My head snaps forward before neck muscles start resisting the rapid deceleration, from horizontal to vertical in one fifth of a second. My feet feel like liquid lead is flooding my body, two seconds of rattling nerves as rustling material dances, spreading like a sheet over a bed, opening to full sail. Slamming crack, popped broken air mass slams against the opening. Snatching and clawing for the grips, seeking control over my only hope for landing as I left the earth… standing. Wrapping my hands taught, I pull soft and then tug hard left to stop right way drifting.
On course for selected landing location, one thousand feet a minute twisting in a slow buzzards cork screw motion, eye’s searching for precious moments to catch in the cage of reckless thoughts. Everything small, grows the closer to her I get, returning to life as I know it every day. Walking, riding, working, writing, talking to family, sharing and caring about those around me, wondering what I can do to help you, help me.
A thousand feet more and freedom is almost over, what goes up, never wants to come back down to lost. The needs of gravity will not be denied by my wanting a passion for life, five hundred feet to a perfect landing. I’ve got nothing holding me down, no one who wants to stick around, so I’ll throw myself on the mercy of the clouds. One hundred feet, pulling hard like a bird wing arched before a perch… fifty feet in a second. Thumping one foot, to the other, over compensating, misbalanced rolling lilted tilt. Tripping over my own feet rolling to a stop.
Dust settles around me on the landing field, looking straight up to where I just came from… I realized six minutes ago I was flying high in the sky at eleven thousand feet, scared of what happens next. Not worried about tomorrows yesterday, just living in the fleeting moments of life’s memory stored throughout histories of mistaken lessons learned.
I wait for a long pause, laying there in a puddle of thankful adrenaline, as I sat up to see the world as I always have… CRUNCH! Everything went black.
dream ripples Riding the flat out across the plain, she bucks and throws me face down in a skidding stop, a rain of pain begins to fall. dream ripples
An hour later… Waking up slowly to throbbing pain with people sitting down and standing up, maybe three or four, they say lay down in unison and as my spinning head returns to the pillow in agreement. What happened, husky voice crackles and shakes. When you sat up, another person landing… hit you, a pointed finger turns my attention to the person standing on the other side of the bed. Your lucky it wasn’t a guy… you would have been crushed. She stood in the light of the window, sun rays sparkled all around her as dust danced in the blades of crystal yellow white.
I’m so sorry… whispers a voice broken and choked with grief, gripping my hand that I hadn’t noticed. Blurry vision gives way to clearly see… an angels eye’s are focus so intently on mine, I can feel her penetrating me. Hours turned days, common in so many ways, we become accidental friends and lovers, bounded for Five Forever’s.