Sabina Hahn's Uploads

20. Ghost traitors. Prompts are from @JanelleCShane generated using the OpenAI net GPT-3. https://www.instagram.com/p/CVViLYFrwMw/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

See the rest of the comic at the link: https://www.instagram.com/p/CZe_qEhrhPW/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

All I want is to hide somewhere and read books. https://www.instagram.com/p/CdgFRFRO57T/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

The Jack Story from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson. There was the Jack of the beanstalk story, and a Jack Sprat who could eat no fat. And there was Jack-in-a-box who used to spring out of a box for no reason at all. And Jack who broke his crown fetching water with a certain Jill. Not to forget little Jack Horner, or the jack who jumped over a candlestick... Theirs is a club of Jacks. https://www.instagram.com/p/CjniuMsuDWM/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

You are not your suffering. https://www.instagram.com/p/CbfRZ1CrexB/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Beginning. “No means no!” Dudley thought to himself. https://www.instagram.com/p/CQJxPD4h7d4/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

A grief and a grievance. https://www.instagram.com/p/CbsOVMMLgbc/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Little but fierce. Always loved hybrids. Keep coming back to them over and over.

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

Mark Twain (1835–1910) In the 1870s and ’80s, the Twain family spent their summers at Quarry Farm in New York, about two hundred miles west of their Hartford, Connecticut, home. Twain found those summers the most productive time for his literary work, especially after 1874, when the farm owners built him a small private study on the property. That same summer, Twain began writing The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. His routine was simple: he would go to the study in the morning after a hearty breakfast and stay there until dinner at about 5:00. Since he skipped lunch, and since his family would not venture near the study—they would blow a horn if they needed him—he could usually work uninterruptedly for several hours. “On hot days,” he wrote to a friend, “I spread the study wide open, anchor my papers down with brickbats, and write in the midst of the hurricane, clothed in the same thin linen we make shirts of.” Whether or not he was working, he smoked cigars constantly. One of his closest friends, the writer William Dean Howells, recalled that after a visit from Twain, “the whole house had to be aired, for he smoked all over it from breakfast to bedtime.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” ― Mark Twain #dailyrituals #inktober #MarkTwain @masoncurrey

19. Five eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs. Prompts are from @janelle.shane generated using the OpenAI net GPT-3. https://www.instagram.com/p/CVTQwr0roO6/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

A secret sandwich. https://www.instagram.com/p/CddS9zSOliy/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Dance like no one is looking! Dance like everyone is looking! https://www.instagram.com/p/Cb8EUg_JWj3/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Cat finally met second best looking cat in the world. Learn from cat. Love yourself today. You are worth it! https://www.instagram.com/p/CZ9UY9YrFot/?utm_medium=copy_link

Before you go! https://www.instagram.com/p/CbPn_BiOA42/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Morning flight. https://www.instagram.com/p/CfbuerpOWcP/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Tell me everything! https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc2tUX5L1zH/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

THE SHIELD from Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day by Ben Loory. "And the remembrance of that place seems to spur him on, and suddenly he’s picking up the pace. Suddenly he’s jogging down the middle of the road, and then he breaks into a run. And then he’s running as fast as he can, and it feels like he’s about to take off. By the time the man gets to the cheap side of town, he’s never felt so good in his life. And he blows right by that dingy apartment and off into wide open space." https://www.instagram.com/p/CguFREoucBj/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Ready to go outside. https://www.instagram.com/p/CZM5TLhJwqr/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

but then… https://www.instagram.com/p/CT2z_tDlXgk/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Don't get your tail in a twist.