I knew a guy who was an illustrator and he had a huge collection of Jazz records. He listened to Jazz while he worked. That sort of captured my imagination, caused me to wonder.
He was well-read, too. Had a lot of books. I think he used a straight edge to make sure the spines were all in perfect alignment on his bookshelves.
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That's how my work desk always looked. Only I didn't do pop-ups.
I knew a guy who was an illustrator and he had a huge collection of Jazz records. He listened to Jazz while he worked. That sort of captured my imagination, caused me to wonder.
He was well-read, too. Had a lot of books. I think he used a straight edge to make sure the spines were all in perfect alignment on his bookshelves.
I admired him.
It's obvious there's real work going on in that work area because it's not all tidy and s**t.
I had a big internal debate whether I should delete or leave "and s**t" in the above sentence. Authenticity won out.
Oh S**t!
A goose in a wheat field is one thing, my dear;
It's a goose in a park path I cannot bear.
Mine is similar, but any honest workspace has lube.
My Workspace
Looks more like a goose being hatched inside a mind field.
And on the seventh day Chip rested.
It looks... well, cluttered, bags.
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