Lino cut print over pastel. The story goes: The bird fell in love with the whale the first time she saw him break through the ocean’s surface, sunlight dancing on his back. From high above, she sang to him, and deep below, he answered with a song as old as the tides.
She longed to dive, to join him in the rolling blue. He wished to rise, to fly beside her in the endless sky. But air and water would not trade places.
So each day, at dawn and dusk, they met at the edge of their worlds—she on the wind, he in the waves—singing a love song carried by the breeze and the tide, never together but never apart.
This is a fun piece of art inked paintstakingly with a fountain pen. I enjoyed drawing it, loosely based on a fall pallet. As a fun side note, she has four ears.
Truman Capote (1924–1984)
He compulsively added numbers in his head, refusing to dial a telephone number or accept a hotel room if the digits made a sum he considered unlucky.
“It’s endless, the things I can’t and won’t,” he said. “But I derive some curious comfort from obeying these primitive concepts.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
“Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.”
― Truman Capote
#dailyrituals #inktober #TrumanCapote @masoncurrey
