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
Thanks to my best friend and art teacher, I am working on this beautiful baby dragon ( names are still being brainstormed) that I have been working on in classes and art club, keep in mind it is definitely not finished but I’m excited to see how this goes! Hope you all like it, any tweaks or ideas are greatly appreciated
reference: https://archive.org/details/toromi-torozukushi/%E3%81%A8%E3%82%8D%E7%BE%8E+%E2%80%8E%E2%80%93+Torozukushi/06+%E3%83%A2%E3%83%89%E3%83%AB%E3%83%8E%E3%82%AD%E3%82%AA%E3%82%AF.mp3 i hate this site cuz wdym "only one upload per day" boy do i have a million half assed works up my sleeve
I wanted to measure how far I have come. In 2023 I drew Voxs screen, well today I redrew it and got this as a result. I'm not one to feel a sense of pride, but damn I'm feeling proud. I have done a lot of self taught with my art and using Ipad and procreate. I did take a art class in college which was basic sketching. I have watched videos, listened to others and just observed to get where I am. I don't know if my art will take me anywhere. But what I do know is, its my outlet, my vent, my escape.
Herman Melville (1819–1891)
"I rise at eight—thereabouts—& go to my barn—say good-morning to the horse, & give him his breakfast. (It goes to my heart to give him a cold one, but it can’t be helped.) Then, pay a visit to my cow—cut up a pumpkin or two for her, & stand by to see her eat it—for it’s a pleasant sight to see a cow move her jaws—she does it so mildly & with such a sanctity."
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“I would prefer not to.”
― Herman Melville, Bartleby the Scrivener
“A smile is the chosen vehicle of all ambiguities.”
― Herman Melville, Pierre; or, The Ambiguities
#dailyrituals #inktober #HermanMelville @masoncurrey
I know I do a lot of facial images, but I love playing around with expressions. But I know I need to work on body and maybe some interactions with characters.
Turns out, leprechauns don’t need rainbows to find pot (of gold) in Amsterdam—just a solid set of wheels. This guy’s off to chase some lucky breaks, one tiny pedal at a time.
Illustration by me, because St. Patrick’s Day needed more bikes.
I was or still am about putting this character on my DA. This is Echo, she is very dear to me. I started her over a year ago and have been working on her design. She belongs to me all rights are mine, she is mine. I wanted to share her with the world. I have another picture I'm working on at the moment. I'm trying hard to work on body types and background images.
An original character a made for a collaborative world on unvale. io, her name is blood and she's been looking for her little cousin, Entity, ever since the eating epidemic started. She's quite anxious and a little shy but she usually warms up to people pretty quick.
"AN IDIOT! A FOOL!"
"No... You're perfect, and don't let anyone make you think otherwise."
Arkham Origins ends with angst for this pairing, which is not surprising.
Context: Edward finds out that his girlfriend seduced him to ruin his plans because she is an informant, and his plan to expose corruption in Gotham would mean devaluing all the secrets she collected. It's a long story and who hasn't been a young ambitious careerist?.. Uh, maybe Amber is a special case, but she regrets it!.. Falling in love with him was not part of her plan, but it is what it is and everyone is unhappy and heartbroken in the end.
para el dia 13 de Marchusic he decidido aprovechar para dibujar esta tierna parejita de hamster con esta canción sobre todo porque me recuerdan a Hamtaro y Bijou
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?"
Nikola Tesla (1856–1943)
After he had started his own company, Tesla arrived at the office at noon. Immediately, his secretary would draw the blinds; Tesla worked best in the dark and would raise the blinds again only in the event of a lightning storm, which he liked to watch flashing above the cityscape from his black mohair sofa.
Tesla ate alone, and phoned in his instructions for the meal in advance. Upon arriving, he was shown to his regular table, where eighteen clean linen napkins would be stacked at his place. As he waited for his meal, he would polish the already gleaming silver and crystal with these squares of linen, gradually amassing a heap of discarded napkins on the table. And when his dishes arrived—served to him not by a waiter but by the maître d’hôtel himself—Tesla would mentally calculate their cubic contents before eating, a strange compulsion he had developed in his childhood and without which he could never enjoy his food.
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“Of all things, I liked books best.”
― Nikola Tesla
“One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.”
― Nikola Tesla
#dailyrituals #inktober #NikolaTesla @masoncurrey
