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.
Patron Saint of Forgotten Things.
I started this one without writing down the name and then couldn't remember what it was supposed to be. So. A Patron Saint of Forgotten Things it is. I pray to it often.
This is a commissioned doodle illustrating someone’s dreams. This was drawn with a fineliner on A1 paper with no pencilling or pre-planning. As you can tell!
"Unthought-of Frailties cheat us in the Wise."
~ Alexander Pope, Moral Essays (1731-35), Epistle To Temple, line 69.
I really had to ponder this quote and figure out how to illustrate it. A spider came to mind...so tiny and fragile in comparison yet invokes so much fear. Then considered a daddy long leg.
