It’s always bittersweet when you finish a sketchbook. There are usually months worth of sketches and ideas trapped within the wrinkly pages. All that work, removed from your sight and memory as it takes its place among the others, awaiting a curious hand and eye! It’s hard moving on to a fresh book, all white and empty, no history within its binding. And it takes me a couple experiments and a bad sketch or 2 to get used to the new working properties of the new book. But there is also all that possibility there. New ideas, new sketches (even if there are the same places involved). I’ll admit, I do tote around the old one for a week or so, like a security blanket I’m not quite ready to give up yet. Putting it up on the shelf with the others is the final step. But the time has come, and those memories will be there to become fresh again as soon as it’s taken down and thumbed through again.
