Remember when they gave you a wing pin of the airline when you flew? Flight attendants were “stewardesses” and “stewards”, and of course you had to make sure to book your seat as far away from the smoking section as you could, as nothing smells quite as bitter and disgusting as recycled air tinged with kerosene and stale smoke (even if you are a smoker), and everyone ordered Bloody Marys and Rum and Cokes with their dinner. The first time I asked for a wing pin and was handed a plastic sticker i vaguely sensed more disposable times were afoot…

by Kati Nawrocki

I love the steamboat at Walt Disney World in Orlando. I have learned so much by drawing that boat over the years. The “wedding cake” my teacher used to call it. One class he made me sit on it every day for a week and draw. Wow. And now I send my students there to draw, when Margaret and I take our Dalvero classes to the parks. We’re going again this summer – I can’t wait, seems like too long since I visited my old friend.

Posted by Veronica Lawlor

I was at my friends’ house this weekend and had the pleasure of seeing a mama and her baby in action. It reminded me of this drawing I had done awhile ago…

Mama teaching baby elephant how to pick a branch from a tree!

Margaret Hurst

I’ve got a few of the model with that red dress on. -Despina

A drawing from a recent performance. Have a nice week everyone!

With December in full swing this brisk sunny Sunday, Ronnie’s post this week inspired thoughts of warm, tempting days gone by for me too. Above is a reportage study for a larger painting project I started in Animal Kingdom. Happy Sunday! – Michele

Sometimes  a blanket is hat.—Dominick

This summer The New York Botanical Garden has hosted a series of exhibitions called the “Edible Gardens”.

I was fortunate enough to find myself in the middle of this delicious cooking demonstration.  I’m going back when Emeril Lagasse shows up next month! Enjoy.

Eddie Peña

There is something alluringly inpenetrable about seafaring towns. Perhaps it is that air of  magic that comes with being so intimately entwined with the rhythms of nature, with death, the weather, and God, a breathing in and out of time, where days become years, and generations contract into a single moment. I delight in following the clues that beckon the seeker, the chains, crosses, and anchors that tell their symbolic tales, imagining their implications  interwoven into a net of humanity.

I made this drawing on a miserably cold day, unable to resist the sheer grandiosity of the image, and if you pay attention, you can follow my reasoning through the lines of the art and the notes.