American Illustrator, Architecture, Art, artist, Autumn, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Bourbon, Chairs, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, Expressionism, fabric, Fall Colors, Frontal, Full Frontal, Kentucky Bourbon, kunst-papier, kunst-papier sketchbooks, Love of the Line, Outdoor Furniture, Sunset


This evening was perfect with sun somewhat muted – the air almost crisp. Somewhere between now and 3 weeks from today, Fall will rise, leaving Summer’s discomfort.

The furniture on my front porch was not taken advantage of this year, and I wanted one last shot. After sketching, I came in, poured a bourbon and painted.

A perfect end for a fading day. A chair and cushion.

A moment this morning

American Illustrator, Art, artist, Barry Comer, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, Self Portrait, selfie, Sketch


I decided to do a selfie while getting warmed up for the day. Needing to produce before school begins, I’m going to be on a tear, sketching people including myself, my dog and just cool stuff that catches my eye.

If anyone has a suggestion, I’m in.


Hosta blossoms

Alley, drawing, Hosta, line art, Prismacolor Painting, Sketch, Watercolor


93 humid degrees, but brave enough to walk Ozzy and let him do what dogs like to do. While waiting, I snatched some blossoms from behind someone’s fence.

They quickly became fodder for Ozzy and had to enact Plan B. In front of my house are several Hostas. They are blooming and actually very nice. Although more gentle than my portrayal, I marched on with a Prismacolor as a wet brush.

With the paper still wet, I outlined several areas with the Prismacolor. I like the results and see potential for future drawings. I am not sure why I chose to hold the pencil like a brush, but it felt natural and free.

Pods of a red bud

Pods, Red Bud, Red Bud Tree

Red Bud Pods

My Red Bud has bloomed and now has cool, elongated pods. They are in bunches, very symmetrical and make for a lovely drawing.

Even though I don’t spend much time among the grasses, leaves and insects, I really do admire the beauty in my backyard.

I decided to do a quick sketch in harmony with a few others as of late. Line art, lines and ink, make for exceptional texture and visual pin pricks.

When this American Woman  – She replied years later

You draped the wood,
with scriptured visions
of thundering praise,
coveting the tablets,
that broke my ritual;
in thousands of pieces,
my eyes looked up,
and found their way;
toes in front of smiles,
I traced your sketch
with silken breaths,
and found my way.

Barry Comer 2010 – Illustration 2015

My candy girl

1960s, Addiction, Adoption, color, Flowers, Iris


Green mint breath,
with a predator’s thirst,
her hot steamed plunder,
spanked to affection;
some candy man love.

Her tom-tom palms,
such smooth pony thighs;
candy requires perfection,
ride, boy ride.

The monkey house screams,
call it a wild girl whisper,
her hot scripted words;
I believe in love.

Candy riders, where’s this going?

Going to slaughter,
touching her thighs;
riding the animal slide.

My candy girl,
little steamed fluffer,
she sweats warm venom;
I feel her love.

You’re pretty slow, if you still don’t know.

It’s called taste of the savage,
for ponys and monkeys,
a sweet attraction;
for candy boy love.

She was hired to please,
to guard, above the knee.

You got it now.

It was ‘62 and I was hot.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015

Bongo boy

Art, beat poetry, drawing, Self Portrait, selfie, Selfies

Bongo Boy

Nasty boy, nasty beat,

bongo boy.

He fingers skins and

flicks her hide,

bongo boy.

He mean,

but he not so stiff.

Tickles when

he giggles to

her beat.

Happiness is slip-slide skin and hot-fumed gravel

1960s, Addiction, Adoption, Black Power, Bondage, Gun Control, Heartbeat, Leonard Cohen, line art, Murder, Nudity, Racism, selfie, Selfies, Sketchbook, Sketching, terrorism


Slide skin,
heat me up and
poison my mind,
killing this infection –
taking my life,
eating my dinner down,
tossing and
rawing my lips.

Come run with me;
now take me on.

Pull my choked-up,
glass wheels fast.

Help me steer –
not too neat,
hot fumed,
slip-slide gravel.

Get under my skin,
do it dirty.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015

Mellow Yellow and an apple

1960s, Apples, Bananas, Deconstruct, Donovan, Mellow Yellow

bananasI’m just mad about saffron
A-saffron’s mad about me
I’m-a just mad about saffron
She’s just mad about me

They call me mellow yellow (Quite rightly)
They call me mellow yellow (Quite rightly)
They call me mellow yellow

I’m just mad about fourteen
Fourteen’s mad about me
I’m-a just mad about a-fourteen
A-she’s just mad about me

They call me mellow yellow
They call me mellow yellow (Quite rightly)
They call me mellow yellow

Born-a high forever to fly
A-wind-a velocity nil
Born-a high forever to fly
If you want, your cup I will fill

They call me mellow yellow (Quite rightly)
They call me mellow yellow (Quite rightly)
They call me mellow yellow


Pomme frites and dipping sauce

Cafe Classico, Coffee Bar, Love of the Line, Sketchbook Skool, Urban Sketcher, Urban Sketching, Watercolor

Pomme Frites

Momentum is a beautiful thing, along with energy, the time to commit and a delicious subject. I normally drink a cup of coffee sans food, when sketching. The possibility of a mess or worse, looms over every stroke. Only on Saturdays do I feel safe to combine the two.

Food is probably one of the most difficult subjects to paint. Everyone knows what it looks like, tastes and texture. One misstep and the critics come out for blood. Look at food photography and know, that hours and money go in to the perfectly composed image. With my sketches, I know the only person I need to satisfy is myself. However, I have to prove it each and every time. No fudging will ever replace my vision and taste buds.

Along with a sense of reality, I also must contribute my line and composition. If I fail in either department, it is an interrupted triumph; failure of my sketch to launch.