Happy New Year! I am thankful for the time I have, for the people in my life, and what God has done. After a life long struggle with alcoholism, I have been sober for 2 and half years now. God helped my to quit and to be set free from it. There is so much more to life and so much I want to do. I have also struggled with living in the past and regrets, but I have been making progress with being in the moment more and being content. I'm looking forward to today and what this upcoming year brings.
"Like maggots in a dog's carcass, they fill me, my children..."
A cosmic being known as "The Sleeper", "The Ugly", but most often he is proudly called "The Father".
"Like maggots in a dog's carcass, they fill me, my children..."
A cosmic being known as "The Sleeper", "The Ugly", but most often he is proudly called "The Father".
I SWEAR I made him before I knew about Barbatos.
Anyway, The Father sleeps deep beneath Gotham and unwittingly poisons the city and its population with his toxic aura. He is known to his cult as the God of Madness and Chaos. He simply cannot control his influence on those around, which makes him a villain of a tragic fate. I figured his existence would be a good enough explanation for why Gotham is such a rotten piece of society, with very creative supervillains who loves to be so extra and why they not executed horribly for everything they've done. The cult of his worshippers is quite old and includes a huge number of people trying to keep him asleep, because if he wakes up and gets out of his prison, it will be the end of the city, and maybe not only the city...
I should point out: he's not actually a god, he's an alien, and he's not the embodiment of "chaos and madness" - he's a cosmic horror, most likely mentally ill and therefore his aura is toxic. He didn't create the villains or Batman, but his aura affected the environment in which they were created.
Samuel Beckett (1906–1989)
On a late-night walk near Dublin harbor, Beckett found himself standing on the end of a pier in the midst of a winter storm. Amid the howling wind and churning water, he suddenly realized that the “dark he had struggled to keep under” in his life—and in his writing, which had until then failed to find an audience or meet his own aspirations—should, in fact, be the source of his creative inspiration.
“I shall always be depressed,” Beckett concluded, “but what comforts me is the realization that I can now accept this dark side as the commanding side of my personality. In accepting it, I will make it work for me.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #samuelbeckett @masoncurrey
This is my boy Sebastian. He is a collaboration of Ichabod Crane and Dracula, he was just born today. I have a least a few pages full of his sketches.
Type: Vampire
-Hopeless Romantic
-Comfortable within his castle
-Kind
-Can be easily scared, but when it comes to those he cares about will fight for.
-He is VERY clumsy
Don't mistake his kindness for weakness. But I guess that's what happens when your not vampire born and have to claw your way to your title. I have two more vampires that will be introduce sometime soon, and the two of them will make Sebastian life a living hell.
Erik Satie (1866–1925)
In 1898, Satie moved from Paris’s Montmartre district to the working-class suburb of Arcueil, where he would live for the rest of his life. Most mornings, however, the composer returned to the city on foot, walking a distance of about six miles to his former neighborhood, stopping at his favorite cafés along the way. According to one observer, Satie “walked slowly, taking small steps, his umbrella held tight under his arm. When talking he would stop, bend one knee a little, adjust his pince-nez and place his fist on his hip. Then he would take off once more, with small deliberate steps.”
His dress was also distinctive: the same year that he moved to Arcueil, Satie received a small inheritance, which he used to purchase a dozen identical chestnut-colored velvet suits, with the same number of matching bowler hats. Locals who saw him pass by each day soon began calling him the Velvet Gentleman.
The last train back to Arcueil left at 1:00 A.M., but Satie frequently missed it. Then he would walk the several miles home, sometimes not arriving until the sun was about to rise. Nevertheless, as soon as the next morning dawned, he would set off to Paris once more.
The scholar Roger Shattuck once proposed that Satie’s unique sense of musical beat, and his appreciation of “the possibility of variation within repetition,” could be traced to this “endless walking back and forth across the same landscape day after day.” Indeed, Satie was observed stopping to jot down ideas during his walks, pausing under a streetlamp if it was dark. During the war the streetlamps were often extinguished, and rumor had it that Satie’s productivity dropped as a result.
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
