100 Things No One Told Me

I’m getting on #the100dayproject late (it started April 3rd), but I’m joining in and going to post a drawing everyday for the next 100 days. So I’ll be posting one a day until Friday, August 10th.

I had this super clever, original (I thought) idea to do daily drawings for the next 100 days based on things no one told me. I googled it just to see if anyone had done it before, and another illustrator already did it! Darn it. Alex Noriega had this same idea and executed it very well in 2010. His last post on his blog, snotm.com was in 2013 though — and his insights and drawings are much wiser than I am (most of mine are about body hair and BO). So I feel like the projects will be different enough that it’s still worth it for me to contribute. If you were following me when I did my, “lie to me” project, I had followers message me the lies they tell themselves and I would incorporate them into my daily drawings. It was really fun, and I felt like I got to know a lot of you much better. I’m opening that up again — what’s something no one told you that you had to find out for yourself? Message me! I want to know and draw it!

1/100 things no one told me. No one told me chin hair was going to be thing I would need to deal with on a regular basis. When I was a teen I’d randomly get one, long white hair that I’d pluck and not have another one for years. Now it seems like it’s every day! Oh well – I work from home.

Against All Odds

Phil Collins for Monday Nights. “So take a look at me now
Well there’s just an empty space
And there’s nothing left here to remind me
Just the memory of your face
Ooh, take a look at me now
Well there’s just an empty space
And you coming back to me is against the odds
And that’s what I’ve got to face”

I need it.

I haven’t done one of these in awhile. At the beginning of the year, I asked folks to tell me the lies they tell themselves and others. This is one of mine, and maybe my biggest. It can be extremely hard to decipher between the things I want and the things I need. My impulses feel like a hummingbird sometimes. I’m getting better at recognizing the difference though, so maybe there’s hope for me yet. I’m still working through a few that some of you already told me. I’d love to hear your lie if you haven’t told me one yet.


Some thoughts from @bstosuy. I’m not sure what the context of this simple advice was, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately in regards to social media usage. We all craft this carefully articulated version or brand of ourselves online. I attempt to be vulnerable and honest, in spite of probably coming across tedious and cheesy sometimes. It’s ok to me—I want to connect with likeminded people. And if that’s not you, that’s ok! .

My lie.

I didn’t realize how often I told myself this little seemingly white lie… but it’s not really a white lie and its unfortunately led me to be someone other than myself at times. The first step is being aware of it, right? If you haven’t been following me, I asked folks to tell me the lies they tell themselves and others. This one is my own, but I want to hear your’s too. Lie to me. •

Megan’s lie.

@megskeefc’s lie. There’s a TON of animals who aren’t burdened by societal expectations of their gender identity, animals who can reproduce asexually and animals who can change their gender midway through life if they wish to. Clownfish are one of the latter. If you haven’t been following, I asked folks to tell me the lies they tell themselves and others and I would incorporate them into my daily drawings. Lie to me!


When we were kids, my brother found and injured magpie on my family’s farm in Southern Colorado and nursed it back to health. From them on, it followed him everywhere. We headed back to Denver at the end of the summer, but would still visit for long weekends and Beaky would be waiting for us. Eventually we stopped seeing him, but whenever I see magpies I think of him.

Saying no.

Maybe it seems negative, but 2018 is shaping up to be the year I feel comfortable saying, “no.” No, I don’t have time for that in my life. No, that doesn’t matter to me. No, I disagree or that is bad for me personally or for all of us. No! Politics aside, personally I have a habit of people pleasing and overcommitting myself. I make plans with zeal and later realize I’m not capable of giving whatever it was that I committed to. If I’ve done this to you, I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t always think things through. In the future, I hope to have some foresight and say, “no” to the things I can’t do, or the things I can’t change.

Andre’s lie

@andredomeni’s lie. This one was also relevant to me, too. I don’t remember anything despite really, really wanting to. Now I neurotically put everything in a physical planner and my phone.. and then forget to look at them. Here’s to trying! If you haven’t been following, I asked folks to tell me the lies they tell themselves and others and I would incorporate them into my daily drawings. Lie to me!

#lietome #lying #lies #lieswetellourselves #lieswebelieve #dailydrawing #sketchaday #adobesketch #adobesketchapp #fear #illustrate #illustration #illustratorsofinstagram #artjournal #sketchbook #artistsforhire #freelanceartist

Become like water

“Where some people have a self, most people have a void, because they are too busy in wasting their vital creative energy to project themselves as this or that, dedicating their lives to actualizing a concept of what they should be like rather than actualizing their potentiality as a human being.” – Bruce Lee

Lie to Me

What is a lie you regularly tell yourself or someone else? I’ve posted about this idea before.. lately I’ve been incorporating the lies I tell myself and others into my daily drawings and sketches. I’d like to do a zine about them, with your input. Tell me a habitual lie of yours, and I’ll incorporate it into an illustration and post it.

In an Oregon Forest

Sleeping In The Forest
I thought the earth remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees. All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

– Mary Oliver