Seán O’Casey died on 18 September 1964. He was 84.

Study of Seán O’Casey by Reginald V. Gray, 1964. (For The New York Times)
Seán O’Casey died on 18 September 1964. He was 84.

Study of Seán O’Casey by Reginald V. Gray, 1964. (For The New York Times)
The statue of King Gambrinus (“The Drunken King”) in Columbus’ Brewery District:

No, that’s not Burger King…it’s King Gambrinus (“The Drunken King”).
For years, beginning in the early twentieth century, he stood watch over the August Wagner Brewery (originally Gambrinus Brewery). Now, he conducts his eternal revels around the corner from my apartment.

The Misses Vickers by John Singer Sargent, 1884
Georgia O’Keeffe is so intrinsically and eternally elegant that mere fashion doesn’t matter; it’s a blip on an inconsequential radar. Unlike aesthetic conformity, personal style effortlessly squashes large spans of time into nothingness.
Don’t believe me?
This image of the legendary artist is 97 years old.

Georgia O’Keeffe by Alfred Stieglitz, 1918.
There’s so much to love about this look, this vibe, this scene.
Where to start?
Fierce. Every last bit. Fierce.

The Bookworm’s Table by Claude Raguet Hirst, circa 1890. Brooklyn Museum.
Fun fact: Claude Raguet Hirst, an artist from Cincinnati, was actually a woman (real name: Claudine).
She died on this day in 1762:

Portrait of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu by Jonathan Richardson the Younger
Edward Gorey’s Books of Eerie Glory [AbeBooks]
This is a nice piece about one of my favourite artists and writers. It’s well-illustrated with many of his book covers.
The Model and the Mannequin (1873) by Giovanni Boldini* has nothing to do with dead writers, reading, writing, books, film, or any of the other usual suspects found on A Small Press Life. I just dig the painting. It’s one of those images that I’d love to jump right into; life would be interesting on that side of the canvas. Look at the colours! Look at the patterns! Look at the textures! The mannequin would have to go (burn it! burn it with fire!), but the model can stay. She’d be a fun, if unpredictable, roomie.

The Model and the Mannequin by Giovanni Boldini, 1873
*Although Giovanni Boldini is one of my favourite 19th century genre and portrait painters, every time I see his name I always think of the Erik Rhodes character from the Astaire-Rogers film Top Hat (1935): Alberto Beddini.
Alberto Beddini: “I promised my dresses that I would take them to Venice and that you would be in them!”
That’s actually a decent companion quote for this piece, isn’t it?

Drawing of Elizabeth Siddal Reading by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, June 1854