Pyotr Ilich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893)
At 9:30, Tchaikovsky set to work—composing at the piano only after he had dealt with any proofs or his correspondence, chores that he disliked. “Before setting about the pleasant task,” his brother noted, “Pyotr Ilich always hastened to get rid of the unpleasant.”
After lunch he went for a long walk, regardless of the weather. His brother writes, “Somewhere at sometime he had discovered that a man needs a two-hour walk for his health, and his observance of this rule was pedantic and superstitious, as though if he returned five minutes early he would fall ill, and unbelievable misfortunes of some sort would ensue.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“Truly there would be reason to go mad were it not for music.”
― Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky
“If you do not want to write, at least spit on a piece of paper, put it in an envelope, and send it to me. You are not taking any notice of me at all. God forgive you – all I wanted was a few words from you.”
― Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
#dailyrituals #inktober #PeterTchaikovsky @masoncurrey
This artwork was requested by @lanahyawnuwuw. You asked for people in dresses, I give you people in dresses! Except now I want someone to use this for a movie. I can just imagine one of the trailer scenes: a guy talking to someone and says “what are they gonna do? They’re just girls with guns.” And he proceeds to get shot by one of them who comes into the room. Someone please make this into a movie.
A tiny 'Thumbodies' gal! She enjoys crafting with objects found in nature and likes making delicious herbal tea blends. Online comic & doodles @ doodletowncomic.com
my first ever piece of art i sold was this piece, i think around 2012 when i started going into more illustrative based work. its great to look back and see the progression and level i have progressed. i remember thinking this was the best i could do but now if i did something on the same level i wouldnt be so happy. i got a lot of good feedback off this piece and do plan on recreating it one day :))...
2B pencil focusing on the eye, nose and mouth. The reflection today is a suggestion that we find what we look for, and we see what we want to see. Our family dinners include a sharing time of: 1. Who blessed you today? 2. Who did you bless today? and 3. What are you thankful for? It is suggested by some that if you focus on the abundance, you will not see so much of the lack, but if you focus on the lack, you will not be able to see the abundance so well. This was illustrated by the questions: "How many red cars did you see on the way to work this morning?" My answer was: "No Idea!" It is because I was not looking. If I was being given $100.00 for each red car I spotted, I would have certainly been looking, and maybe even getting creative with the definition of 'red'. What are you looking for? What are you finding?
A suit I designed for a fantasy SWAT (TSWATT, or the Taured Special Weapons And Tactics Team). They have wings which can fold into themselves, so far that they cannot be seen unless you look behind the back. They have special long fall boots (sort of like the ones from Portal) that allow them to fall from great heights. They have special glass goggles that act as sort of a VR set, in which they can see through smoke and walls if the area they are in is mapped out. The little orange thing on their chest records everything they witness. Drawn with FireAlpaca.
As far as things that I can’t seem to shake off are concerned, it’s this fact that a place like Edinburgh where I live is akin to a village where everyone (artist folk in particular) seems to know everyone, and the patterns or quirks that emerge from this said thought process. In most collectives I’m a part of and/or are associated with, there’s what seems like an endless sense of crossover and overlap with fellow artists etc for lack of better words, which is lovely as it is insane... you know? All in all though, even if it drives me mad it does so in a strangely positive way and I’ve learned to live with that. So yeah, make of that what you will. :-)
I keep coming back to this Vice headline I saw and took a screenshot of this time last week, which inspired the title of this piece. Seems like a relevant metaphor to me (and others I know) for so many reasons right now! Thankfully nothing too traumatic in my case...
I wanted to draw someone who is actually in my life. My moms friend Chanda was around and I just secretly took a photo of her, and traced her face outline because I am sucky at outlines.
This started off as a black ink drawing, but after scanning into my computer, I played around in Pixelmator to add the background and some effects to achieve the final result. This was going to be my first attempt at either Inktober ot Artober. Many thanks for looking !
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.
And of course when I think of dragon, I think of Drogon and Daenerys Targaryen- “The First is Her Name, The Unburnt, Queens of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons”.
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.
