morning

This is something I'm working on for a project, its part of a template I'm putting together. Its a little off center but I spent most of yesterday morning doodling in my sketch pad until I was happy with the design. I did have to use bat skulls as resource, it was fun.

I am a developer, and coding is my world. But when it comes to, say, the "life" part of life skills? Not so much. After a grueling 72-hour coding marathon, fueled by nothing but caffeine and questionable decisions, I made a mistake I now regret on a cosmic level: I spilled coffee on my external hard drive, the very drive that stored access to my digital wallet, holding a significant sum. At first, I told myself it wasn't that bad; surely a little splash wouldn't be a big deal, right? With confidence in my tech skills, I turned to the internet for answers. One search result boldly asked: "Can you dry a hard drive in the microwave?" Spoiler alert: absolutely not. Don’t try this under any circumstance. I’m lucky I didn’t end up with melted plastic or worse. After my solo data recovery efforts failed catastrophically, panic set in. This wasn't just lost files, this was years of effort, wiped in a moment. That’s when I found Digital Resolution Services. Desperate and admittedly a bit embarrassed, I reached out, hoping for a miracle. From the moment they answered, I could tell I was in capable hands. The team was calm, professional, and reassuring, never once mocking my questionable DIY methods (which, looking back, I probably deserved). Instead, they got straight to work, applying specialized tools and expertise to my situation. The process wasn’t easy. It involved long nights, constant updates, and a rollercoaster of emotions. But Digital Resolution Services never gave up. They stayed committed, persistent, and focused every step of the way. When they finally restored access to my wallet, I was overwhelmed with relief not just because the funds were safe, but because I could finally sleep without stress. That experience taught me something valuable: sometimes, it’s not about being the expert in everything, it's about knowing when to trust the right ones. Now, I keep my coffee and hard drive far apart. And every time I take a sip of that morning brew, I remember: if your data matters, don’t gamble, reach out to professionals like Digital Resolution Services. TELEGRAM: @DIGITALRESOLUTIONSERVICES WHATSAPP: +1 (361) 260 8628

beaver, colour, fun, doodle

A cheerful sun rises over a blue horizon with colorful rays spreading outwards, accompanied by the text "happy new day!" in playful lettering. a vibrant and optimistic piece of art.

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

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

From my sketchbook today. I was noticed at a coffeeshop while drawing this morning it made me happy and regret not making business cards

Umberto Eco (b. 1932) Eco says that he is able to be productive during the brief “interstices” in the day. He told The Paris Review’s interviewer: “This morning you rang, but then you had to wait for the elevator, and several seconds elapsed before you showed up at the door. During those seconds, waiting for you, I was thinking of this new piece I’m writing. I can work in the water closet, in the train. While swimming I produce a lot of things, especially in the sea. Less so in the bathtub, but there too.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “When men stop believing in God, it isn’t that they then believe in nothing: they believe in everything.” ― Umberto Eco #dailyrituals #inktober #UmbertoEco @masoncurrey

Joseph Cornell (1903–1972) Cornell worked nights at the kitchen table, sorting and assembling materials for his boxes. It was not easy going. Some nights he felt too fatigued from his day job to concentrate on his art and would sit up reading instead, switching on the oven for warmth. In the mornings, his quarrelsome mother would scold him about the mess he’d left at the kitchen table; without a proper workroom, Cornell was forced to store his growing collection of magazine clippings and dime-store baubles out in the garage. In 1940 Cornell finally mustered the courage to quit his job and pursue his art full-time—and even then his habits changed little. He still worked nights at the kitchen table, while his mother and brother slept upstairs. In the late morning he would head downtown for breakfast at his local Bickford’s restaurant, often satisfying his sweet tooth with a Danish or a slice of pie (and lovingly cataloging these indulgences in his diary). - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey #dailyrituals #inktober #JosephCornell @masoncurrey

So after seeing some pictures of his human pictures I wanted to make something. This is based off the YouTube video link below. This guy made Alastors radio show and its KA! You should go check it out, I like to listen to it when I'm alone at the office, or when I study or whenever really. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ns18ZVI-ObQ

Erik Satie (1866–1925) In 1898, Satie moved from Paris’s Montmartre district to the working-class suburb of Arcueil, where he would live for the rest of his life. Most mornings, however, the composer returned to the city on foot, walking a distance of about six miles to his former neighborhood, stopping at his favorite cafés along the way. According to one observer, Satie “walked slowly, taking small steps, his umbrella held tight under his arm. When talking he would stop, bend one knee a little, adjust his pince-nez and place his fist on his hip. Then he would take off once more, with small deliberate steps.” His dress was also distinctive: the same year that he moved to Arcueil, Satie received a small inheritance, which he used to purchase a dozen identical chestnut-colored velvet suits, with the same number of matching bowler hats. Locals who saw him pass by each day soon began calling him the Velvet Gentleman. The last train back to Arcueil left at 1:00 A.M., but Satie frequently missed it. Then he would walk the several miles home, sometimes not arriving until the sun was about to rise. Nevertheless, as soon as the next morning dawned, he would set off to Paris once more. The scholar Roger Shattuck once proposed that Satie’s unique sense of musical beat, and his appreciation of “the possibility of variation within repetition,” could be traced to this “endless walking back and forth across the same landscape day after day.” Indeed, Satie was observed stopping to jot down ideas during his walks, pausing under a streetlamp if it was dark. During the war the streetlamps were often extinguished, and rumor had it that Satie’s productivity dropped as a result. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey

Living, breathing, and creating with nature When you wake up to the gentle sights and sounds of the pond, trees, plants, birds, bees, and dragonflies, inspiration flows effortlessly. So, when the owner asked for a menu design for @SarayaGoa Art Café, I thought—why not let nature speak for itself? Using pen and ink, I captured the beauty of my mornings here—each stroke reflecting the lush surroundings that make Saraya unique. Instead of focusing on just food items, I filled the cover and inside pages with illustrations of the vibrant life around us. Dining here means eating among the green, surrounded by the diverse plants of our permaculture gardens. This study is a tribute to the beauty that shapes every meal at Saraya.

"You flee my dream come the morning Your scent - berries tart, lilac sweet To dream of raven locks entwisted, stormy Of violet eyes, glistening as you weep"

Benjamin Franklin (Part 2) The plan worked, up to a point. After following the course several times in a row, he found it necessary to go through just one course in a year, and then one every few years. But the virtue of order—“Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time”—appears to have eluded his grasp. Franklin was not naturally inclined to keep his papers and other possessions organized, and he found the effort so vexing that he almost quit in frustration. This timetable was formulated before Franklin adopted a favorite habit of his later years—his daily “air bath.” At the time, baths in cold water were considered a tonic, but Franklin believed the cold was too much of a shock to the system. He wrote in a letter: I have found it much more agreeable to my constitution to bathe in another element, I mean cold air. With this view I rise early almost every morning, and sit in my chamber without any clothes whatever, half an hour or an hour, according to the season, either reading or writing. This practice is not in the least painful, but on the contrary, agreeable; and if I return to bed afterwards, before I dress myself, as sometimes happens, I make a supplement to my night’s rest, of one or two hours of the most pleasing sleep that can be imagined. From Daily rituals by Mason Currey #daulyrituals #inktober #benjaminfranklin @masoncurrey

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart In a 1782 letter to his sister, he gave a detailed account of these hectic days in Vienna: "My hair is always done by six o’clock in the morning and by seven I am fully dressed. I then compose until nine. From nine to one I give lessons. Then I lunch..." From "Daily Rituals: How Artists Work", edited and with text by Mason Currey.

Pencil/Colored Pencils Drawing

Colour, surf, doodle

Morning play. Watercolor paper tests with random colors. Ink on top to make each into a drawing. It was harder than usual today. Haven't done thise exercise in too long.

Bastet in her morning ablutions,

Acrylic on canvas #painting #art #nature #landscape #acrylicpainting #canvaspainting #artwork #serenity #contemporaryart #artist #amazing #wonderful_places #natureart

Made with your average mechanical pencil.

By me, 3/28/2023, definitely one of the more serious works I've done.

Actually I saw this scene when I was traveling in bus early morning. In the foggy outskirts of city. I spotted this farm. I loved the one small patch of farm with Greeny patch. Couldn't paint the fog, but tried to give the sky a feel of foggy.

My drawings creating with a fine liner, pencil or color pencils and brush pen. Sometimes they are also different collages. They are a figment of my imagination