The clutter on my drawing table.. I tend to use pencils the most, with pens a close second and sometimes brushes. This is the neat look---when everything is put away in its box. More often than not, they are a bit more scattered on the surface. Micron pen drawing.
Jane Austen (1775–1817)
Austen never lived alone and had little expectation of solitude in her daily life. Her final home, a cottage in the village of Chawton, England, was no exception: she lived there with her mother, her sister, a close friend, and three servants, and there was a steady stream of visitors, often unannounced.
...
Austen wrote in the family sitting room, “subject to all kinds of casual interruptions,” her nephew recalled. She was careful that her occupation should not be suspected by servants, or visitors, or any persons beyond her own family party. She wrote upon small sheets of paper which could easily be put away, or covered with a piece of blotting paper. There was, between the front door and the offices, a swing door which creaked when it was opened; but she objected to having this little inconvenience remedied, because it gave her notice when anyone was coming.
“Composition seems to me impossible with a head full of joints of mutton & doses of rhubarb.”
From Daily rituals by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #janeAusten @masoncurrey
"Spaced-Out" (0.18 technical pen on 120mm x 35mm card) and "Medusa" (HB pencil on 125mm x 42mm card). Another two simple images drawn on pieces of off-cut card that make great bookmarks.
THE HAT from Stories for Nighttime and Some for the Day by Ben Loory.
"THE YOUNG MAN HAS NEVER BEEN AFRAID OF HATS before.."
https://www.instagram.com/p/CgmCFiyu0oH/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."
