A tango dance between two characters of mine. I really like these two and always love drawing them together. I have several more of them together and plan to do more in the future.
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.
A tiger wearing a teal suit and top hat is depicted against a muted background, giving an elegant and whimsical appearance. The animal's serious expression is emphasized by the formal attire.
Patron Saint of Moths and Knitting.
I do love moths so much. There is so much quiet beauty in them. Just wish they would stay away from my favorite sweaters.
#PatronSaint #dailyDrawing
P. G. Wodehouse (1881–1975)
Once, when he was beginning a Wooster-Jeeves novel, he experimented with using a Dictaphone. After he had dictated the equivalent of a page, he played it back to check it over. What he heard sounded so terribly unfunny that he immediately turned off the machine and went back to his pad and pencil.
After this, according to the biographer Robert McCrum, “he might snooze a bit in his armchair, have a bath, and do some more work, before the evening cocktail (sherry for her, a lethal martini for him) at six, which they took in the sun parlour, overlooking the garden.
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.”
― P.G. Wodehouse
#dailyrituals #inktober #PGWodehouse @masoncurrey
George Balanchine (1904–1983)
Balanchine liked to do his own laundry. “When I’m ironing, that’s when I do most of my work,” he once said. The choreographer rose early, before 6:00 A.M., made a pot of tea, and read a little or played a hand of Russian solitaire while he gathered his thoughts. Then he did his ironing for the day (he did his own washing too, in a portable machine in his Manhattan apartment) and, between 7:30 and 8:00, phoned his longtime assistant for a rundown of the day’s schedule.
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“I like to do things certain ways and I disagree with everybody but I don't even want to argue.”
― George Balanchine
#dailyrituals #inktober #balanchine @masoncurrey
Draped in delicate pencil strokes, this artwork elegantly portrays a historic city gate, standing as a timeless sentry to myriad untold stories. Each shaded contour brings forth the intricate details of the gate's architecture, echoing the urban landscape of a bygone era. The deft use of monochrome evokes a nostalgic journey through the annals of time, where every shadow and highlight adds to the depth and texture of this piece. This mesmerizing blend of artistry and history invites viewers to step into the past and embrace the serene splendor of the city's storied gateway.
Jean-Paul Sartre (1905–1980)
By the 1950s, too much work on too little sleep—with too much wine and cigarettes—had left Sartre exhausted and on the verge of collapse. Rather than slow down, however, he turned to Corydrane, a mix of amphetamine and aspirin then fashionable among Parisian students, intellectuals, and artists (and legal in France until 1971, when it was declared toxic and taken off the market). The prescribed dose was one or two tablets in the morning and at noon. Sartre took twenty a day, beginning with his morning coffee and slowly chewing one pill after another as he worked. For each tablet, he could produce a page or two of his second major philosophical work, The Critique of Dialectical Reason.
The biographer Annie Cohen-Solal reports, “His diet over a period of twenty-four hours included two packs of cigarettes and several pipes stuffed with black tobacco, more than a quart of alcohol—wine, beer, vodka, whisky, and so on—two hundred milligrams of amphetamines, fifteen grams of aspirin, several grams of barbiturates, plus coffee, tea, rich meals.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #jeanPaulSartre @masoncurrey
Keep thinking about a story about Kismet (one of my cats) and Rocky (a friends dog I just met). I don’t know what they would both do in it, but there would be much shivering and tail wagging.
Ps. Kismet is not fat. She is actually very svelte. But I had two blobs on my page and she was destined to be one of them
https://www.instagram.com/p/C7mUq3BggSy/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
2023, Ballpoint pens on 5” x 8” acid free Moleskine sketchbook paper, Adobe Photoshop colour correction. I was doing pre-purchase research before deciding on a set of noise cancelling earbuds when I landed on the Google Pixel Buds Pro website and found an interesting model in an interesting pose.
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!
