Joyce Carol Oates (b. 1938)
The first several weeks of a new novel, Oates has said, are particularly difficult and demoralizing: “Getting the first draft finished is like pushing a peanut with your nose across a very dirty floor.”
From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
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The story behind this is that when my little sister and I were kids, we invented a game called Blammer. You duct tape small trashcans to your back and try to slam a sock ball into your opponents basket. We used tennis rackets for defense. We used to terrorize our parents with all the running and yelling in the house. We're in our 30's now and try and play when we see each other. I call her Chicken and she calls me Ducky. Which is why we're are riding birds. One of my favorite pieces I've ever done. A birthday present for her.
My only niece's 1st birthday was a few days ago. I decided to start a tradition of drawing her every year for her birthday as special uncle presents. Here is her first one. Her favorite movie right now is Monsters University
Sigmund Freud (1856–1939)
“I cannot imagine life without work as really comfortable,” Freud wrote to a friend in 1910. With his wife, Martha, to efficiently manage the household—she laid out Freud’s clothes, chose his handkerchiefs, and even put toothpaste on his toothbrush—the founder of psychoanalysis was able to maintain a single-minded devotion to his work throughout his long career.
Freud’s long workdays were mitigated by two luxuries. First, there were his beloved cigars, which he smoked continually, going through as many as twenty a day from his mid-twenties until near the end of his life, despite several warnings from doctors and the increasingly dire health problems that dogged him throughout his later years. (When his seventeen-year-old nephew once refused a cigarette, Freud told him,
From Daily rituals by Mason Currey
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Jane Austen (1775–1817)
Austen never lived alone and had little expectation of solitude in her daily life. Her final home, a cottage in the village of Chawton, England, was no exception: she lived there with her mother, her sister, a close friend, and three servants, and there was a steady stream of visitors, often unannounced.
...
Austen wrote in the family sitting room, “subject to all kinds of casual interruptions,” her nephew recalled. She was careful that her occupation should not be suspected by servants, or visitors, or any persons beyond her own family party. She wrote upon small sheets of paper which could easily be put away, or covered with a piece of blotting paper. There was, between the front door and the offices, a swing door which creaked when it was opened; but she objected to having this little inconvenience remedied, because it gave her notice when anyone was coming.
“Composition seems to me impossible with a head full of joints of mutton & doses of rhubarb.”
From Daily rituals by Mason Currey
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para el día 16 de Inktober hoy toca sucio
para este día se me ocurrió dibujar a Mario hugo a quién se le ocurrió jugar un poco en el barro pero sin saber no terminó mucha Juan Carlos por accidente
(Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) You have to be very careful what names you give your fantasy creations. They might sound right in your own mind, but others will read them very differently. For example: He's a Kakka-Du Knight. They're known to roam the galaxy, righting wrongs and bringing peace and justice to the far reaches of space, because that's what the Kakka-Du do!
(Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) A "Twart" is someone who tries far too hard to be an artist. Each carries the metaphorical book: "The ABC Book on How To Be An Artist" Ticking off various points they think will make them such. You can usually tell who they are by the cheesy, inoffensive work they produce and a false, bohemian, facade. Because they think that's what artist are like.
