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.
It's a watercolor painting, the size is A4. I wanted to express some kind of serenity. Send me a message for any questions or more.
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After a week of influensa and a diet of lozenges and potato twisters, i needed to do a quick drawing to keep in practise. Wtprompt on instagram suggested an animal portrait with a moustache, so here it is!
Having younger siblings is 50% about having spoiled rotten playmates and 50% about making sure those little morons dont accidentaly kill themselves. Border collies are so hard to draw antropomorph! Ever noticed how they most of the time keep their head lover than the bum?