Josh V's Faves

Pretty much this!

Louise Bourgeois (1911–2010) “My life has been regulated by insomnia,” Bourgeois told an interviewer in 1993. “It’s something that I have never been able to understand, but I accept it.” Bourgeois learned to use these sleepless hours productively, propped up in bed with her “drawing diary,” listening to music or the hum of traffic on the streets. “Each day is new, so each drawing—with words written on the back—lets me know how I’m doing,” she said. “I now have 110 drawing-diary pages, but I’ll probably destroy some. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “I am not what I am, I am what I do with my hands...” ― Louise Bourgeois “Every day you have to abandon your past or accept it, and then, if you cannot accept it, you become a sculptor.” ― Louise Bourgeois #dailyrituals #inktober #LouiseBourgeois @masoncurrey

Doodling of the Day

#embracingnightmares

Lindsey's prompt: Frankenstein

Wise words Gavin!

An octopus I drew mostly colored pencils , but some water based marker in the background .

This piece I did free hand on paper. I fell in love with this drawing. Probably my best marker drawing I have done thus far. What do you guys think?

Cover for my fanfic i writing for "Batman: Zero Year" comic. After Zero: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63498001 "I bloom, a flower fair and bright, A needed thing, for two, a light. In hearts' soft garden, breezes play, I grow in strength with each new day." The Riddler nodded patiently, his eyes half-lidded in boredom. Amber devoted almost all her energy to keep reciting this stupid rhyme that she had composed and practiced until she turned pale from exhaustion. The remaining part of her energy was spent on NOT clutching her jacket. "But then, a worm, with wicked bite. Gnawed at my grain and dimmed my light. A spreading blight, a change so foul. Cursed my existence, took its toll. My two companions, caught in strife. Began to gnaw and hurt their life. Absorbing poison, bit by bit. They both grew sick, they couldn't quit." "…" “Who am I?" The Riddler lazily raised his eyes to the sky and just as slowly raised his hands. "Love!" His voice was full of theatrical reverence. He didn’t even pretended that the riddle made him ponder over it. "To be more precise — twisted love. Am I right?"

William Styron (1925–2006) “Let’s face it, writing is hell,” Styron told The Paris Review in 1954. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “We’re all in this game together.” ― William Styron #dailyrituals #inktober #WilliamStyron @masoncurrey

Return of the tiger sharks!

Well said Yasuo-san!

Coffee pot lino prints.

A mother and calf humpback whales .

Lindsey's prompt: Rancor

Tea pot lino prints.