I’ve Lost my Skine!

It’s official. My muse receptical tool otherwise known as my sketchbook has done a runner. Clearly it wasn’t being paid enough.

Am I upset? Surprisingly no. I love new stationary. I love seeing the blank pages of a new sketch book thinking of the possibilities and what it will look like once its filled up to the brim.

It’s similar to the feeling that I used to get while teaching piano to kids. Every time I got a new pupil, I would get this feeling of looking at a blank book, with pages begging to be filled with knowledge and ideas, the brain book ready to take in everything about music.

Of course, me being me, I’ve actually never FINISHED a visual diary. I always ether lose it, drop it in some horrible chemical, or put it on the shelf and buy a new one because I miss the new feeling. I used to feel bad about it, but ever since the final illustration assignment at uni, I’ve come to a semi satisfying conclusion about my predicament: If true artworks are never finished, and visual diaries are works of art in their own right, then surely it would be a crime against the physics of art to use the last page? There should always be room for expansion. Room for that little bit more. That last page that will contain the final thought, the last word, the summary, the part that sums up how that particular visual diary took me on a journey of change and discovery.

Next year I am starting again. Not my visual diary, that’s starting again this afternoon upon a trip to the art store. I mean next year I start that great part of life called flatting, not to mention a somewhat meteoric rise in position in 1 Logistics Company (the territorial unit I’m part of). Having a new diary now could be quite a blessing, as it will document the change of lifestyle, and we all know the best art is about change/revolution/protest.

So its off to the art store for me. Best wishes for the silly/merry/family season!

Here’s an except from one of my visual diaries:

Page 8

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