I often have weird dreams that inspire my artwork, and that one I had last night where I took over a jungle (or was it a forest? I don’t know) sure got me inspired.
Truman Capote (1924–1984)
He compulsively added numbers in his head, refusing to dial a telephone number or accept a hotel room if the digits made a sum he considered unlucky.
“It’s endless, the things I can’t and won’t,” he said. “But I derive some curious comfort from obeying these primitive concepts.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.”
― Truman Capote
#dailyrituals #inktober #TrumanCapote @masoncurrey
When I am anxious I stim. When I am anxious at a café that I frequent, they give me Blu Tack to fiddle with. I make little models, and this is one of them. It is supposed to be me, meditating.
The new king inherits the unspoken and messy legacy of slavery and colonization. 2023, 19" x 13" Ballpoint pen on Archival Paper. Source: Prince Charles portrait by Hugo Burnand.
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
THE TUNNEL from Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day by Ben Loory.
" TWO BOYS ARE WALKING HOME FROM SCHOOL WHEN ONE of them sees a drainpipe set back in the woods. "
https://www.instagram.com/p/CgEs7eqOFAz/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
“Claire!” Elle woke up with her daughter’s name on her lips. Startled, she sat up and looked around the living room with her heart still beating loudly in her chest. A dream, she realized dazedly.
Slowly, she crossed the way to the back door. With unseeing eyes she gazed out into the garden.
She remembered waking up in the hospital six years ago and seeing her husband sitting next to her. She remembered how he took her hand into his and looked at her with eyes full of despair. He told her that the doctor thought Claire might not survive. That she might die before she was even born, die before she had a chance to look into her mum’s eyes, feel a kiss on her forehead, clench her little fist around her dad’s finger, hear them speaking to her without a belly barrier between them… It was a silent, terrible death. It was the death of someone so precious, so innocent, so tiny…
Elle took a shuddering breath.
A quick painting and birthday gift for someone I'm very close with. The week is almost done, just in time for it to start again. Here's to the fact that I'll finally get to do double backs on Saturday, and that's getting me through the week. I don't know, today has been great and horrible all at once. I feel like I need to catch my breath, but I can't.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onH1YLml0zo !BOOM! It's dropping this week! The first of several Lore Videos to help world build the Untitled Heroes universe!
