The post explains that starting an art practice by using reference images directly—often called “tracing”—lets you learn quickly and build a personal style through shortcuts and visual pleasure. It recommends beginning with affordable tools like a $50 pen, tablet, and free software such as Krita to access its reference‑image tool and create your own compositions. Once you master laying out scenes from references, you can shift to freehand drawing while still grounding yourself in realistic physics, but also bending reality to invent colors and light. The author illustrates this with an example of painting a politician’s face: study the eyes and laughter from references, then compose the final piece freehand, ensuring harmony and purpose behind each sketch.

The author reflects on reshaping our world by uniting cultures through education, arguing that only by ending global poverty—via universal income banks and free schooling—can people rise from low levels of learning. He stresses the need for a top‑down design that brings all cultures together, uses art to show students what a classroom should be, and believes this educational revolution will lift minds and dissolve borders.

By applying a reference image directly onto the canvas, an artist can create a faithful hyper‑realistic reproduction that serves both as a master study of the subject and proof of their skill. Once this stage is mastered, the artist gains a solid launchpad from which to explore eye, lip, nose, cheek, and hand details through targeted tutorials; these lessons refine positioning and deepen artistic control. As the process continues, the artist learns to simplify shadows and stylize features, transforming detailed studies into memorized faces that can be reproduced spontaneously. This progression—from precise hyper‑realism through simplification to full‑body poses—builds a memory bank of facial features and postures, enabling the sketching of complete scenes and ultimately producing uniquely personal works.

The post explains that art is an innate skill that needs structured practice—much like learning to write or ride a bike—and that tools such as ruled paper, grids, and proportional dividers help beginners stay on track; it also encourages using free open‑source programs (e.g., Krita) for color picking and image references so you can learn to mix colors effectively; the writer suggests inexpensive yet effective supplies—pencils, canvas or graphite paper, a small projector for tracing images, and eventually a pen tablet—to build confidence before moving into more advanced techniques like 3‑D shading; ultimately, mastering these basics will let you create art that transforms lives and invites others to join your creative journey.

The post argues that many “mentor” artists underestimate newcomers, guiding them on a long journey rather than letting them become equally skilled, and that true art must be free of manipulation, self‑delusion, and lies. The author declares everyone a natural artist and invites those who use art merely to showcase themselves to switch to magic, whose code is clear and unviolated. Digital art, the writer says, should not simply copy life but elevate it by using its full range of tools—3‑D modeling, perspective, shadows—and techniques such as photo‑bashing, color‑picking, and tracing; freehand sketches are just one style. Finally, the post stresses that hand‑eye coordination develops naturally when aided by gadgets, that young people already possess the intelligence to learn art, and that artists should not take the medium away from them.

The author explains why choosing the right reference photo is key for any portrait: a model must pick an image that truly shows her face under good lighting, from the proper angles, and in a way she feels it represents her. He argues that even with 3‑D rigs or many photos, the final choice still needs the model’s approval, otherwise the finished painting will feel wrong to the subject. The post contrasts simple photo selection with more complex photogrammetry, notes how stylized changes can be added after a solid base, and stresses that an artist’s responsibility is to capture the model’s real appearance before adding any idealisations. Links to a title‑image contest and a time‑lapse video are included as examples.

The post is a stream‑of‑consciousness meditation on the human condition, arguing that true learning comes from stepping outside of pain and recognizing how our own missteps become the root of suffering. The author uses art as an illustration: good work fails if it only paints misery, just as war propaganda masks truth. He tells us to “crawl through a tunnel of shit” – i

The author explains that creating art is not magic but a systematic process of navigation through techniques—using reference images, tracing paper, grid methods or digital tools—to learn composition, color sampling, and mixing; practice turns these steps into habits, just as learning to navigate a city. He sees the first “lobby” of art as a place where beginners become perfect artists by mastering fundamentals, then expanding beyond them, and he frames art as a test of worthiness that rewards teachers who bring others into this starting circle so they too can grow. Ultimately, good art is defined not by subjective feeling but by its power to change lives, and new schools of art will emerge to free humanity from poverty and darkness.

The post argues that a painting should “speak”—not with misery, but with meaning—and that its message can be either inspirational or humorous. It suggests blending images with text, stories etched on stone walls, still‑life scenes of books and objects, or punchlines framed by a funny setup (like a cat in a suit) to bring both mood and laughter into the viewer’s day. By using familiar quotes or personal joy as sources of inspiration, an artist can create works that lift spirits and help people balance their lives, even though not everyone will laugh or be inspired. The author ends with links to a “Title Image” contest and time‑lapse video for further reference.

The post outlines three main approaches to art—Quasimodo, Digital Art, and Lowbrow—each with its own flavor. Quasimodo represents traditional classroom learning that can feel formulaic, yet some teachers are revisiting it to make it more innovative. The Digital Art method highlights how modern tools empower artists by bringing Renaissance techniques into contemporary practice, with light projection seen as a fundamental teaching aid. Finally, Lowbrow art embraces preset proportions and simple equipment to create charming, accessible works that resonate with viewers; the author shares a personal anecdote illustrating how this style can delight both artist and audience alike.

This post explains a simple, repeat‑based method for drawing faces quickly and accurately. It suggests using tracing paper, a projector or transparent digital layers to get proportions right at first glance, then skipping an initial sketch and painting shadows immediately. By repeatedly copying portraits with similar lighting, the artist learns to map key features—eyes, nose, mouth—into their correct positions before adding details, so that later compositions feel natural and consistent. In short, memorizing a face through repetition builds a mental “map” of light, shadow and feature placement, enabling an artist to produce at least one finished portrait per day with minimal extra steps.

The post argues that true learning comes from following your curiosity—combining art and programming, mastering tools like regular expressions through hands‑on practice—and that fun is essential to retain knowledge. It contrasts the hacker’s self‑learning style with traditional college experience, claiming graduates often lack deep retention and can be re‑tested to separate what they learned independently from classroom teaching. The author suggests this could improve schools (and even bring prizes). Finally he links a career built on knowledge to larger goals—ending poverty, advancing humanity, and achieving global consensus on issues like the ozone hole—concluding that real education and wealth creation are intertwined for becoming a great being.

The post argues that the current education system is deliberately designed to make students feel inadequate, relying on memorization and standardized tests rather than true learning. It claims teachers, principals, and politicians work together in a “group‑think” scheme to keep students dependent on money‑driven grades, while free libraries and self‑education are presented as the only real way to acquire knowledge and escape poverty. The author urges readers to take charge of their own learning—through books, videos, art, design or programming—to become competent thinkers and ultimately “great beings” who can contribute meaningfully to society.

In this post the author reflects on how children remember and expose their teachers’ lies, thanks to their growing connectivity and knowledge. The writer argues that as people age they tend to underestimate the power of modern information, yet the younger generation can quickly catch up with any misstep, especially when a teacher fails to deliver real learning. By recalling their own school days—where students tested instructors for worthiness—the author stresses that teachers must show genuine learning and care if they want children’s respect. Proper education, audio books, healthy habits, and sincere effort will extend life expectancy and help parents/teachers learn from their own mistakes.

The author contends that true art is life‑changing and sees truth as lofty mountain peaks guiding the creative spirit; by traveling many roads, cultivating knowledge, wisdom, and greatness, one ignites an inner core whose “coronal ejection” reaches those peaks, while continuous learning keeps liars at bay. The post urges us to add fire through our works, not merely follow directions, and to light that fire in order to counter lies, hunger, and wrongness so that everything can be made right.

I spent my college years oscillating between philosophy and art, first struggling through a dull Descartes‑centric course that left me craving deeper insight into Žižek’s ideas and the distinction between Ayn Rand’s philosophy and politics, then finding creative fulfillment in an art class where I learned practical techniques like layering paint to avoid bleeding under tape; meanwhile my teacher’s informal style—calling me “pig” behind my back yet later teaching me projector tricks—illustrated how professors can both insult and inspire. After making the dean’s list, I ventured into Michigan’s Nordhouse Wilderness with a group of friends, where I met a traveling philosopher who shared his own adventures on a bicycle, and together we reflected on human complexity, self‑care, and the joy of learning, concluding that our lives are not about perfection but about growth and becoming great beings.

The post argues that conventional schooling—studying hard, cramming, and attending unsequenced lectures—fails to give meaning to tests or true knowledge; it portrays education as essentially a mechanism for income, retirement, hedges, and profit maximization, with college loans engineered to extract maximum value through automatic deductions. The author uses the example of an art teacher who lets students trace repeatedly, claiming that mastery comes from countless repetitions (100th trace making one amazing, 1 000th revolutionary) rather than guidance, and concludes by urging self‑education: start with highly regarded books and keep learning until you become a “Great Being” like the world’s brilliant intellectuals.

The article explains why coloring a portrait face in hyper‑realism is challenging: no single hue fits every detail, and each feature often requires a slightly different shade. It recommends working from a reference image, using a color picker and occasionally shifting hues semi‑randomly, while keeping the source and final picture in sync. The author stresses starting with a clean sketch, then creating a black‑and‑white version of the source, adding a “Color” layer that imposes hue but preserves value, and applying filters (such as G’MIC) beforehand to see a reliable preview and avoid surprises during painting.

The post presents a straightforward, teacherless workflow for learning drawing and painting that relies on three core stages—sketch, value (black‑and‑white) study, and color application—and demonstrates how each stage can be executed with simple tools such as a grid, wall projector or an image reference in Krita. By first building a clean sketch using the grid or projected image, the artist trains hand and mind before moving on to a black‑and‑white value study that captures light and shadow; this layer is then used as the base for a separate color layer set to “Color” mode so that hue and saturation are applied while the underlying values dictate shading. The method encourages self‑study by letting artists sample colors from their reference, gradually developing an intuition for how hues shift across value levels, and ultimately fostering a personalized sequence of learning that can be adapted to each student’s pace and curiosity—an approach the author hopes will inspire new “schools” built around self‑education rather than traditional instruction.

The post offers a quick guide to using grids in Krita, pointing readers toward several helpful videos (setting up grids, grid‑scaling tricks, and apps that auto‑generate them) and suggesting even a chalk‑grid approach for easy erasing. It stresses that correct proportions are only the first step; shadows and highlights must be nailed next, so the author recommends working from a black‑and‑white source image, applying posterize and edge‑finding filters to get clean outlines. The writer notes that digital work makes erasing and experimentation painless compared with paper, and encourages color picking and mixing on the computer as a natural extension of the proportion lesson. Finally it reminds critics that they value art that “transforms lives.”

The post weaves together art, philosophy, and lived experience as the forces that shape personal growth, using imagery of trails, filaments, and learning stages to show how early instincts evolve into intellectual refinement as we navigate life’s “leads” and “drops.” It argues that continuous practice—whether walking long hikes, dancing, or skating—builds a personal mythology, while stressing the importance of meaningful education, student safety, and teachers who craft profound learning experiences that match each learner’s curiosity. The piece concludes that our choices and accumulated wisdom ripple through time, enabling us to share insights with future generations so they can build on our foundations rather than start from scratch.

The post explains how to use an airbrush—especially its pressure‑sensitive opacity—to build a digital illustration from scratch: start with a thin sketch layer (using light pen strokes that become faint lines at low pressure), then gradually add thicker outlines before moving on to finer details, always layering the new strokes over the previous ones so shadows and volume can develop naturally. It stresses the importance of an initial sketch (either hand drawn or photo‑referenced) as a foundation for the whole piece, and suggests giving the early lines texture, noise, and slight erasures to add character. Once the basic shape is set, you build depth with deep grays and shading, then use the airbrush’s gentle spray to apply subtle glows and highlights in darker scenes—turning simple shapes into 3‑D forms while keeping the workflow light, iterative, and always starting from a clear sketch.

The post claims that the grade‑centric, punishment‑driven system of standardized schooling steals joy from true learning, and that only self‑education can revive learning before we finally need to redesign our schools.

The post explains how to use Krita’s Image Reference Tool by first pre‑arranging a scene in a photo‑editing program (or a solid image), then overlaying that reference onto your canvas so the color picker always samples from it, not from what you’ve already painted; it stresses using a pen and tablet for pressure‑controlled strokes, noting that a mouse is inadequate. It encourages embracing hyper‑realism as a path to mastery, illustrating how artists like Van Gogh and Monet employ bold, unblended brushstrokes or selective blur to convey depth with the fewest strokes possible. The author invites readers to begin with this technique and then evolve toward minimalism while achieving maximum expression.