I’ve been doing ink doodles somewhat like this since the early 80s but I have to give a shout-out to Visoth Kakvei for greatly influencing my style the last couple of years.
URASHIMA THE FISHERMAN
From Favorite Folktales from Around the World by Jane Yolen.
Then a last song burst from him as he struggled with his loss: “My love, when after a night of longing day dawns and I stand at my open door, I hear far off waves breaking on the shores of your Paradise!”
If only he hadn’t opened that jeweled box, people have said since, he could have been with her again. But the clouds hid her Paradise from him and left him nothing but his grief.
#dailydrawing #folktales #kidlitart #watercolor #janeyolen #sofreakingsad #tonighticanwritethesaddestlines
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
Thirty-five minute sketch of a petrified A&W ketchup packet I found inside my fridge. This thing is the rock-hard evidence of my frequently poor late night diet choices.
No, I can't get it out of my head, now my whole world is gone for dead. This song has been stuck in my head for a while now, kind of interesting. I apologize for the long ramble of reflection this will be, but here I go. It's been an interesting few weeks, ups and downs, odd mindsets, but here I am. I don't know, quarantine has shifted a lot of things for everyone, and I've noticed a lot of changes in myself. I jokingly say I'm becoming soft, but it's a bit true, in a good way. I'm thankful for so many people in my life, and I'm finally letting those people how much they mean to me. I know I've said this before, but gymnastics has really been getting me through, and I'm proud of all the progress I've been making recently. My coaches make my life better, they're just incredible people and I love them so much. Thank you to the person I had a whole long text conversation with tonight (you know who you are) and for always dealing with my chaotic self. And finally, I've started to accept who I am, and that's a nice feeling. There's still the dark parts, the static still consumes me from time to time, but tonight was a good night. Thank you for all the support from everyone (in and outside of this community!). I genuinely appreciate all of it
A beautiful snowy night is depicted here. A girl is watching the beautiful scenario from her window. Actually this is a house referenced from the Song - "Perfect" ft Ed-Sheeran.
hey there☘️
while taking a walk in the forest i came across a little treehouse. it inspired me to draw this one. i love to look at the stars at night and drawing this reminds me of the times where i looked at the beautiful night sky in france some years ago.✨
have a lovely day :)
The other night I chin-chin with the universe... My quick daily sketch from my sketchbook.
'Glass of universe'. Ink, coffe and red wine. Yes, I was seeping on this wine while sketching...
After 1-2 week ago i had a lot of work and had a stress.So on this weekend in a evening i went out for relax time with my closefriend and enjoy with jazz song night. Then I come back to sketch with watercolor for my memory.
THE LITTLE GIRL AND THE BALLOON by Ben Loory.
"That night the mother had a terrible dream. In the dream, Annie was a balloon. She floated up out of her bed and through the open window and away across the sky toward the moon."
https://www.instagram.com/p/CgzLv_COUat/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
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
