Here's an ink illustration from my sketchbook. The only thing more terrifying than dying of the plague might be encountering a plague doctor. The type at the bottom says "A Black Sun Revolves Around You." It's been distorted and abstracted, but it's derived from letterforms.
First I should tell you where worries come from.
They come from the back of a Hornswagglers thumb.
These Hornswagglers live very deep,
down beneath Gritchuk Falls,
a town far below the earths core in its halls.
The falls that are flowing there a
Joan Miró (1893-1983)
Miró always maintained a rigidly inflexible daily routine—both because he disliked being distracted from his work, and because he feared slipping back into the severe depression that had afflicted him as a young man, before he discovered painting. To help prevent a relapse, his routine always included vigorous exercise—boxing in Paris; jumping rope and Swedish gymnastics at a Barcelona gym; and running on the beach and swimming at Mont-roig, a seaside village where his family owned a farmhouse.
Miró hated for this routine to be interrupted by social or cultural events. As he told an American journalist, “Merde! I absolutely detest all openings and parties! They’re commercial, political, and everybody talks too much. They get on my tits!”
From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
Skylight from Dialogues in Paradise by Can Xue.
The light shrank back into two dots. A dark shadow brushed by, a clumsy night bird that shrieked and swooped toward the skylight, its huge wings tapping the roof fiercely, echoing like thunder.
