A fantastical bullwhale creature with a mix of whale and bull features glides through a vibrant, swirling, blue and orange hues body of water. The colors blend in a mosaic style, enhancing the creature's mythical presence with a composition that creates a sense of movement and depth, capturing an imaginative underwater scene.
Patron Saint of Lost Keys and Small Things.
Reminded me of this poem by Elizabeth Bishop.
One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
このオリジナルデザインは、私のストアでさまざまな色のユニセックス T シャツとして入手できます | This original design is available in a unisex t-shirt in various colors in my store | Este diseño original esta disponible en camiseta unisex en varios colores en mi tienda: https://yuni-kipoh-store.printify.me/product/20111962/traveling-de-viaje
P. G. Wodehouse (1881–1975)
Once, when he was beginning a Wooster-Jeeves novel, he experimented with using a Dictaphone. After he had dictated the equivalent of a page, he played it back to check it over. What he heard sounded so terribly unfunny that he immediately turned off the machine and went back to his pad and pencil.
After this, according to the biographer Robert McCrum, “he might snooze a bit in his armchair, have a bath, and do some more work, before the evening cocktail (sherry for her, a lethal martini for him) at six, which they took in the sun parlour, overlooking the garden.
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.”
― P.G. Wodehouse
#dailyrituals #inktober #PGWodehouse @masoncurrey
A little while back I started doing little triptych cartoons, something I could have fun with and zip off pretty quickly. Then I expanded them to four panels when it felt necessary. Some people think too deeply about my little toons and are confused about what's happening. I just tell them to look at it more simply, and not to overthink it. Like this one.
One of dozens of cartoons I created the last couple of years. A little voice is telling me to get these published in a book. If the voice gets louder, it will happen. In the meantime, I'm brainstorming and filling my sketchbook.
Draped in delicate pencil strokes, this artwork elegantly portrays a historic city gate, standing as a timeless sentry to myriad untold stories. Each shaded contour brings forth the intricate details of the gate's architecture, echoing the urban landscape of a bygone era. The deft use of monochrome evokes a nostalgic journey through the annals of time, where every shadow and highlight adds to the depth and texture of this piece. This mesmerizing blend of artistry and history invites viewers to step into the past and embrace the serene splendor of the city's storied gateway.
Hi. Am I hard to see? You are free to look closer.
This is how I will most frequently present myself as, drawn here in an effort to rejuvenate past drawing abilities . Both Ego and Shadow are delicately present as one, although still not the truly completed form. That is still outside my own grasp within the field of creativity.
Everything here has some meaning, including the blank background. A "Domain" in the form of a canvas. The ability to bend reality. A shadow that opens the door to the extraordinary. The simple tools to channel one's creativity. Most importantly, an Avatar of one's being.
Jean-Paul Sartre (1905–1980)
By the 1950s, too much work on too little sleep—with too much wine and cigarettes—had left Sartre exhausted and on the verge of collapse. Rather than slow down, however, he turned to Corydrane, a mix of amphetamine and aspirin then fashionable among Parisian students, intellectuals, and artists (and legal in France until 1971, when it was declared toxic and taken off the market). The prescribed dose was one or two tablets in the morning and at noon. Sartre took twenty a day, beginning with his morning coffee and slowly chewing one pill after another as he worked. For each tablet, he could produce a page or two of his second major philosophical work, The Critique of Dialectical Reason.
The biographer Annie Cohen-Solal reports, “His diet over a period of twenty-four hours included two packs of cigarettes and several pipes stuffed with black tobacco, more than a quart of alcohol—wine, beer, vodka, whisky, and so on—two hundred milligrams of amphetamines, fifteen grams of aspirin, several grams of barbiturates, plus coffee, tea, rich meals.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #jeanPaulSartre @masoncurrey
