I finally reached the end of my beautiful little red moleskine sketch book. It’s a proud and a bit of a sad moment for me. I began it in July of 2009. That doesn’t really seem so long ago, less than two years, but so much has happened since then that it almost seems as if I’m letting go of something that transitioned me to a whole new life.
I’ve always had a very bad habit of starting a sketchbook at a moment when I was feeling artistically dedicated, filling out a few pages, and then putting it aside. When I would pick it up a year later I would need a new one, who wants to start their new found dedication with a reminder of a past failing? I have a box full of sketchbooks and journals to prove that I have this habit.
This is the very first sketchbook that I’ve ever filled up. Ever. I started it when I first began to do Last Thursdays and when I was still doing wood burnings (it has the burn mark to prove it). In it’s pages are drawings of creatures and gifts that will never be, sketches for drawings that began entire series, poems, comics, photos, and notes. It has seen me slowly become more dedicated, braver, and more imaginative. It has seen me through the beginnings of a relationship and into a marriage.
I have put it down for months at a time but always picked it back up. This little red sketchbook feels as if it was there as I transitioned to being a true adult. I’m so proud to have it all filled that I don’t want to put it down. Where will I put it? Somewhere so safe that it will always be available and never be damaged.
Now, I have started a new sketch book. A task that suddenly seems a little bit daunting and a little bit more important than one would think. I wonder what this new sketch book will see me through. The only way to know is to start at the beginning, and watch as I tell the next chapter of my own story.
