Suddenly, I find myself besieged by old drawing books, did I ever throw any of them away? I guess not. Today I went around my apartment and counted how many drawing books do I have and was surprised that I had thirty five! Yes, thirty five, now don't get me wrong there's a broad range of books here. Some I haven't look at in years, just waiting for a glance when that inspirational well has dipped to its lowest point and I needed an artistic a hand up. Drawing books have held my dreams, fears and my voice for a very long time and by the looks of them my heart.
I have drawing books ranging from around 1993 to 2015. Some from my time in France, San Francisco, Syracuse, lots from the time I lived at my parents home (whew) those are at the bottom, and my gallery and so on. Then there are those who just fueled my love of pen and ink, watercolor and line, they're my refuge ... my armor. Why have continually ignored them? they hold a rich history, my history as an artist, my failures and my victories. And unfortunately, lots of notes and phone numbers ... geez couldn't I've looked for a piece of scrap paper. I ruined lots of nice drawing by writing in the picture, what a waste.
When I decided to do some small drawings to kick start my practice after leaving grad school I choose to pick up a drawing book. I am starting over, new fresh exciting clean white pages, this is exactly what I needed. I made it threw thirteen collages before I was getting lost in trying to make "super"good shit! In frustration I saw my old drawing books I'd shelved, I thumbed through them for ideas or past ideas that hadn't panned out. And like before they gave back, so what good are drawing book? They're priceless! So keep them safe.
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