Italian job

Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Corradino D'Ascanio, Italian

This is a sweet Italian job that sits in a cafe I visit every Saturday. It is bright red, sexy and sculptural.

Again, my iPhone betrays with added tint which is not welcome. If I wanted sepia, I would have added the tone. Maybe my illustrations are telling me that they want a dash. When they verbalize, I will converse.

Happy Italian design and beautiful line. Thank you Corradino D’Ascanio.



Art, art, cafe sketching, Caffe Classico Louisville, Italian Opera, ne più si può goder. Godiam c'invita un fervido accento lusighier., Tools, Vespa, Violetta


Tra voi tra voi saprò dividere
il tempo mio giocondo;
Tutto è follia nel mondo
Ciò che non è piacer.
Godiam, fugace e rapido
e’il gaudio dell’amore,
e’un fior che nasce e muore,
ne più si può goder.
Godiam c’invita un fervido
accento lusighier.

Violetta (as she sings to an impossible task)

Spring Loaded

American Illustrator, Art, artist, Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, Italian Scooter, Italy, Shock Absorber, Vespa, Vespa Motorscooter, Vespa Scooter

spring loaded

I really didn’t feel like drawing for an entire week. With the events in France still fresh, the creative compulsion I usually feed, had no appetite.

Finally, I knew I had to get pen and brush to paper. It really isn’t a choice, is it?

To be in the act of making art is nutritional and spirit healing, sort of like a spring returning to its form.

Out a window

Art, art, artist, Artist's Hands, Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Cafe, Cafe Classico, Cafe Sketches, cafe sketching, Sketchbook Skool, Vespa


Forever morning in a café, drinking, celebrating little peeks outside a window. I am side-by-side with a cute little number as the lines grow strong; they formulate in mind.

Perfect Fall; brown, red, scents up an espresso machine. Geese in a nearby cemetery, spooning each other for show.

Friends warming. Friends talking cha-cha.

Bluebird chimes and cafe checks

Art, beat poetry, Cafe Sketches, Deconstructed Vespa, drawing, dreams, scooter, Vespa


Motor me and wreck me through;
you caught me up; you sung by night.

The wild sky reach and glass of wine; the sip of air –
so crisped and shatter. It sounds like spiked drink up and
ladies bare all.

Push the temp for accurate sensation, pulse gone wild
and feel the rumble. You can bite some asphalt;
the road-worn acts; let’s freak.

Now it makes sense?

Or are you woken with bluebird chimes and cafe checks?
Knocked from drawer; pah dumph peashé – a cashier death –
with last-time thoughts of wants and sips.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015