les fleurs du printemps

Alley Flowers, American Illustrator, Art, artist, Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, drawing, Flowers, les fleurs du printemps, Lillies, Paris, Sketchbook Skool, Spring


I have been anxiously awaiting the return of my eye and hand. The sense of power that streaks and gives me confidence. One week, two weeks… when?

When is now, and now is Spring. Maybe I’m emotionally drained from school or I’m trying too hard; Usually, that’s the case.

I can’t wait for the temperatures to reach 70 every day. Les fleurs attendant mes yeux.


American Illustrator, Art, artist, Artist's Hands, Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Cafe Classico http://www.caffe-classico.com, Cafe Sketches, cafe sketching, Caffe Classico Louisville, Coffee Shop Flowers, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, Flowers


Sitting in front of me, I heard the whisper, the call. Draw us.



Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Flowers, Romanian Photographer, Sensual

sensual copy

Thank you Alina (http://alinastamboala.com) for the inspiration to follow my line. Your image is sensual. (http://alinastamboala.com/2016/01/31/fragility/)


America, Art, artist, Badass Artist, Barry Comer, barry comer, Barry Comer Artist, Barry Comer Artist, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, Flowers, line art, Nibs, paint brush, Tools, Water Brushes


These are my tools, at least a few. I require them to create, breathe and eat.

Forks and knives of the drawing table.

I’m always looking for the next whose feel is natural in my hands and pleasing to the eye.

It is about the feel, isn’t it?


Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, dreams, Flowers, Handmade Paper, Indian Handmade Paper

Not Sure

I’m uncertain about this image. It was painted on deeply pocked handmade paper from India. But, it was a much appreciated birthday gift from my best friend and wanted to try it out for size.

The image got ahead of me really fast with motion upon motion and deep swirls. Maybe if I look at it more, it will grow on m.

Doodle bag

Art, Black-eye Susan, Doodle, Flowers, Messenger Bag


Sometimes I start out very seriously. I sketch using accurate proportion, line up what is intriguing and then feed my instinct. There are other times when either whimsy or being very casual take hold.

Either way, I finish what I started and evaluate the outcome. Do I like the line quality? Do I feel what I saw? Do I show to other people?

I don’t know how I feel about this sketch. Why did I draw Black-Eyed Susans? (http://www.fcps.edu/islandcreekes/ecology/black-eyed_susan.htm)

Whine the wind for another tale

beat poetry, Cemetery, Flowers, Illustration, Lilly, line art, Pen and Ink, pencil drawing, Summer Heat, Urban Sketching


Trickling some laughs and rippling steam,
allow my hands to palm the curve,
and smell my sense and shake the salt.

Ears and waves her boiler-room shy,
trust the touch; the experience of age.
Smell your sense and shake it hard.

Dance toes on scratch-grass roads, feel
the boil, touch the lip – don’t leave me alone.

Touch the sense and push it through.
Tap dance girls all smell the same.
Goofied smiles, such nervous sounds –
skin-squealed up like boards of steel.

Whine the wind for another tale.
Just some love for Summer, just
pickled stuff.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015

Tender balm of nights forever

color, David Hockney, Day Lilly, drawing, dreams, Flowers, Lilly


Regime formed
and angels carved,
with weathered freeze;
lay down.

They stare from stone
unmoved, eyes glazed;
toward them.

Knowing the end,
sentimentality and
forever cries, of wilt.

The birth never shown,
mirrored and viewed;
with six handed grips.

Release your lips
and sip my kiss,
lay lambs in flowers;
tender balm of
nights forever.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015

Whispered kisses and memories

Backyard Bushes, Burning Bush, Dogwood, drawing, dreams, Expressionism, Flowers, Friendship, Illustration, Spring Plants

flowering bush

Misty river flows along an ankle and feels of falling,

of blue jays swirling and whispered kisses and memories,

hushed quiet.

Flight my feathers of floating trails, among the leaves who fall.

Give me wind and vivid dreams tonight.

Infuse my memories.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015