I met Miju short after I moved to Barcelona through an exhibition at Duduá and I was blown away.

I don't really know how she does it, but in her drawings there is no noise, just peace. It's just her and her imaginary friends. It's so special and different from everything nowadays. When you meet her, you understand her illustrations are just an extension of her own personality.



Born in Busan (Korea), studied Product Design in Seoul and then moved to Barcelona to make a living out of her illustrations. She also has a trademark called Mee and Zoo where she sells handmade cushions from Busan.

And please, don't forget to check out her animated gifs.

Some time ago, I found Lili Scratchy, a french illustrator and ceramic artisan who's world never stops surprising me. Going into her sketchbooks is like figuring out how her mind is like: A whole lot of little speaking monsters, colours, fruits, letters and weird animals.

Don't forget to take a look at her ceramic work, it's pretty impressive.

She has a blog that updates quite often and a Flickr where you can find all her work.

James Gulliver Hancock, an illustrator from Australia (now living in New York), seems to be on a quest to draw and catalog almost everything that comes his way, from bicycles and snow to scooters and mountain tops. He's even launched a micro-site titled All The Buildings In New York, where you'll find them sorted by building type or borough.

I especially love the compositions where he stacks each of the elements onto one large sheet of paper. Here's hoping he keeps this effort going forever.

I stare at the flashing cursor, tongue-tied and stupefied-- outwitted by the subject. How to write about a project which is at once worthy and fundamental, and arrestingly, profoundly beautiful? The Reconstructionists features a different trailblazing woman every Monday who has "reconstructed ... our understanding of ourselves, the world, and our place in it." It's a hefty feat, but if anyone could pull it off it's surely the talented team of illustrator Lisa Congdon and writer Maria Popova.

The project begins with a cartoonist, the original soul sister, a timeless diarist, an inventor/actress, an author/art collector, and an abstract-expressionist painter -- iconic and provocative women who played, performed, and permeated meaning, better known as Lynda Barry, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Anais Nin, Hedy Lamarr, Gertrude Stein, and Agnes Martin, respectively.

The illustrated portraits, hand-lettered quotes, and accompanying micro-essays are as vibrant and compelling as the women they honor. Hats off ladies.

I made a styrofoam solar system in 4th grade; I've seen Star Wars. But, it wasn’t until a recent visit to NASA’s Kennedy Space Center that I gave the final frontier much thought.

I meandered through the rocket garden, the Hubble telescope display, and the recreated control room of the ‘50s with its ashtrays and white-collared men calculating in a room of blinking lights. I saw the Falcon 9 launch light up the dark sky en route to the International Space Station. And the elusive concept of space began to take hold. I imagined and contemplated.



And since that visit, I force myself to realize that even on sunny days, irrespective of warm blues and greens, we are floating in silent blackness. These images are part of the Smithsonian’s immense collection of drawings, paintings, and prints chronicling the American space program. Enjoy them, for they, and all our accomplishments, truly are far out!

This morning (and every morning) I need my coffee to get going. Sometimes for the caffeine, sometimes for the ritual.

It seems Brandon Ortwein would agree. Since October 2010, Brandon has taken to making a daily coffee cup post-it note drawing. As you'd expect from a caffeinated doodle, they are full of color and energetic marker streaks. I love these drawings as a collection. It's a reminder of how something simple, done overtime, could look impressive and complete.

As artists, we often take ourselves too seriously. We forget to improvise and to create something temporary, to play, to make and to simply just get our stuff out there for the world to enjoy.

This morning, Bortusk Leer gave me a good reminder of that with a BONK! on the head. Starting with his about page, where he playfully describes that he's born from, "the forbidden love between a one-legged trapeze artist and a retired communist party official turned dancing-ferret trainer." Mr. Leer draws fantastical childlike characters that typically have more than the average number of appendages. They bleed with color, on newspaper print, and are pasted around town (from Amsterdam to New York). Lucky you if you get to see one in the wild.