Sketchbook Retirement – #12

Who: Moleskine
What: Cardboard Cover, Rounded Corners, Inner Pocket, Ribbon Bookmark
When: September 3, 2006
Where:
The Field Museum / 1400 S Lake Shore Drive /Chicago / IL 60605

Why: I wanted something portable for the rest of my trip in Chicago. I liked that it would fit in my pocket, carry my ID and some cash and that it was black.

Incidentals: At that time I wanted EVERYTHING to be black. If this photo had been taken that day at the museum, my nails would have been black to match. This is my first Moleskine. A hallowed event for sure.

Underlying Unintentional Sketchbook Theme: Inklings of ideas. Half baked thoughts. Baby Mermaid Development, Poetry. Appointments and People.

………………………………………………………………………….

Dearest #12,
I remember that freezing September day when I first saw you sitting in a Natural History gift shop. I marveled at your compact size. I asked the sales boy all about you and he said that real artists loved you more than all the others. I knew that was what I would like to be best of all and so I picked you up and plunked down what then seemed like a monumental amount of cash for your 3×5″ dimensions.

5709845947_e632f3bab9_b

My travel companions were all jonesing for a smoke. I christened your pages in a freezing park while they filled their lungs with their cherished tobacco and I filled mine with what felt like shards of glass in that icy Chicago air. There were pigeons and babies and this is what I drew on your pages the first time my pen ever met your acquaintance.

Because you are mine body and soul, your pages are often fish laden, although you can see that these fish happened before I really hit my cold blooded stride. I guess I wasn’t a “real” artist quite yet. Your fish are kind of awkward, albeit charming.
5709845683_652de53e29_o

I was leafing through your pages and I found a portrait of my new, now old friend, Rachel. This must have been before I flat out refused to draw people I know for their base entertainment. So it was before I had airs, or at least ‘the airs of a real artist.
5710408402_b52c60985e_o

Since this was before the days of a full time artist life, there are gems like this from public parks, without coffee, because back then coffee was too expensive.
5710408320_619194e99e_o

This conversation reads
I see a scooter!
— I see a sign!
I see a tree!
— I see a million trees!
I see your butt! AUGHHHHHHHH!!
–AUGHHHHHHHH!!

Genius.

Of all your pages, perhaps this is my favorite. It reads: “How bad (not badly – apparently I wasn’t so concerned with grammar on these particular tombs) do you want to do it and how bad do you want to do it in New York?”
5710408212_9846536147_o

I am reminded of how close I was to leaving my beloved Brooklyn, broke as a street urchin and working my charcoal scuffed fingers to the bone. I am impressed by you, #12. You remind me how much things have changed and how much they have not.

I am still fully invested in Burlesque bars, even if they’re now en vogue and can be visited in every part of New York and I no longer have to travel to any seedy underbelly of society.
5709845199_77dd6d80af_o

Your pages hint at coming brilliance. The development of a line of Baby Mermaids is begun with real promise here. So I owe you a lot. Who knew how far that would stretch?
5710408130_d2c69e1126_o

How could I know that this unrestrained madness in your first few pages
5710409250_2a39d8a1b5_o

Would later translate to this in the swan song of your last few pages?
5710408694_84d6e39e77_o

Yes, in my career as a real artist, your pages have mattered. I can see what that boy in the shop meant. Thank you for your contribution to my truly lovely life.

Yours,
Amber

P.S. With my coming show I am transitioning a large amount of sketch pages and random bits of paper. Somehow #12 was unearthed in the tumult and I was reminded of our relationship and it’s bittersweet nature, teaming between innocent ideals and bitter artistic frustration. 20/20 hindsight has been good to us here. I felt that #12 deserved a proper retirement, She Sure is Sketchy style.

As always, thanks to Valerie Best’s brilliant T-Shirt Project for giving me the inspiration to begin this tradition here too.
Listening to right this second: Happiness is a Warm Gun by the Beatles

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

#LaterGram

About last night. 🦌💛 Crawling home on all fours after celebrating at the epic Puppy Par-tay my brother and sister-in-law put on for my dog nephew, Milo tonight. It was everything and more, complete with a bone-shaped swimming pool. #dreamtheimpawssibledream 🤘#livewithnoregrets We otter go exploring more rivers. 😍
#lifeachievementunlocked A Mama said there’d be days like this😍
Totally alone in the Natural History Museum’s Hall of Mammals for hours! Hashtag Blessed. It’s 1 AM. Do you know where your mini gummi bears are? 
#fairgame #latenightinthestudio #goodbyeoctober We’re celebrating today. I opened my eyes to Matt  crowing, “Amber! Wake up. They made it!” We have been following the inspiring pilgrimage of my mom @incredimombo & sister @prilliegirl_shakazoozoo via text & @instagram for weeks. They set out to trek across Spain a month and a half ago. This morning they walked their 500th mile and crossed into Santiago. Having read a lot about their journey before they set out to do it, I felt concerned at their determination. The Camino is not easy. It requires walking 10-20 miles a day 7 days a week. You have to carry everything you need on your back. The toll is physical, mental & spiritual. Many prepared and experienced hikers do not make it to the end of the journey the first or second time they attempt it. ☀️ So we’re dreaming impossible dreams and celebrating too. It would seem today is a good day to set out to do the impossible. When we moved to Utah I was sure I’d been too spoiled by my childhood on the ocean and my twenties in Brooklyn, to ever find anything to love in the desert. I fully planned on dying of boredom. I don’t know what I’ll do when we outgrow this little Wasatch apartment of ours! Watching the Sun kiss the mountains goodnight from our tiny balcony is beyond description. This picture doesn’t begin to do it justice. Home again.
%d bloggers like this: