Apparently, Blixa Bargeld of Einsturzende Neubaten and Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds fame actually did this to his school back when he was a lad! I needed an idea for a convoluted weird-as-they-come title, and after reading that story I knew I had something, heheheh :)
Three islands filled with people all alone out by the sea,
You see, I'd love to join them but there is no room for me.
That one guy climbed too high - I think they call him "Clumsy Paul?"
Soon there may be room for me... I'm just waiting for his fall.
*writes a few words, masticates a few more he found reading Doctor Who books*
An ode to the more saccharine yet saltier tasting things in life. Faff and fluff aside, find your own meaning folks.
It's Weinerman Sam with his weiner schnitzel fam,
Putting sausages to bed like a good fam-i-ly man.
Doing ev'ry thing he can just to get them into bed,
For a restful night of sleep in a warm bun made of bread.
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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
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
Louis Armstrong (1901–1971)
Armstrong relied on music to lull himself to sleep. Before he could get into bed, however, he had to administer the last of his daily home remedies, Swiss Kriss, a potent herbal laxative invented by the nutritionist Gayelord Hauser in 1922 (and still on the market today). Armstrong believed so strongly in its curative powers that he recommended it to all his friends, and even had a card printed up with a photo of himself sitting on the toilet, above the caption “Leave It All Behind Ya.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“All music is folk music. I ain't never heard a horse sing a song.”
― Louis Armstrong
#dailyrituals #inktober #LouisArmstrong @masoncurrey
