Every once in a while, I step away from faces and let the rest of the body take over. This was one of those moments. These two pieces came out of the same session—same mindset, same flow, same refusal to behave. One became Backward Thinking. The other… just kind of slid off into existence as a body stretched out on the ground like it gave up halfway through making sense.

Backward Thinking

This one is exactly what it sounds like. At first glance, it reads like a loose, abstract figure. Then your brain kicks in and tries to solve it—and that’s when things get uncomfortable. The body almost works. Almost. But something is off just enough to keep your eye moving, trying to correct it, trying to make it make sense. It bends like a real body might… if it ignored every warning signal and just kept going. That’s the part I like. There’s a tension here between:

• fluid movement
• structural familiarity
• quiet distortion

You recognize the human form, but it doesn’t fully cooperate. It resists being understood too quickly. And yeah, there’s a little metaphor hiding in there whether I planned it or not. Sometimes your thinking loops back on itself so hard you don’t even realize you’re upside down anymore.

The One Lying Down

This one feels like the aftermath. Same visual language. Same continuous line approach. But instead of tension, it leans into collapse. The figure stretches across the space like gravity finally won the argument. It’s less confrontational. More… resigned. But it still plays the same game: your brain tries to piece together limbs, weight, direction—what’s shoulder, what’s hip, what’s even happening—and never quite lands on a single answer. It’s a body, sure. Just not one that’s interested in explaining itself.

Why Full-Body Instead of Faces

Most of the time, I work in portraits—controlled compositions, focal points, expressions that anchor everything. These are the opposite. Just line, movement, and the suggestion of anatomy. That forces the viewer to do more work, which is exactly where things get interesting. You’re not just looking—you’re solving. And while you’re solving, the piece gets under your skin a little.

Continuous Line, Controlled Chaos

Both pieces were created as continuous-style digital line drawings, which means:

• no lifting the pen mentality
• no clean segmentation of body parts
• everything flows into everything else

That’s what gives them that warped, almost organic feel. The line doesn’t stop to ask permission—it just keeps going, even when it probably shouldn’t. Especially when it shouldn’t.

The Real Fun Part

These are the kinds of pieces that don’t hit all at once. They creep up on you. You glance, move on, then your brain goes, “Wait… what the hell was that shape doing?” And suddenly you’re back, trying to untangle it like a visual puzzle. That’s the sweet spot for me—right between recognition and confusion.