Some things get simpler even as others get more complicated.
Years ago before I had started sketching, I saw the
sketchbooks and art journals of Roz Stendahl, Cathy Johnson, Liz Steel and Danny Gregory (among many) and so admired the way they artfully
integrated their words and sketches on the same page. I loved the idea of making
a book containing the “story” of my daily life in both words and pictures. As a lifelong journal writer, I was
used to filling pages with words, but making pictures on the same pages felt
like stilted, self-conscious add-ons. I tried it off and on, but the practice
never lasted. (It further convinced me – falsely– that I must be a “word person” and not a “visual person.”)
When my urban sketching habit finally took hold, I had no problem filling sketchbooks (even when one cost $160!) – I burned
through page after page without hesitation. But whenever I tried to write and
sketch on the same page, both the writing and the sketch felt tight,
restricted, uncomfortable. If I could both write and sketch with ease, why was doing
both on the same page so difficult?
A minor reason was incompatible papers. I don’t like writing
on thick, toothy paper that I prefer for sketching. While I enjoy using a
fountain pen to sketch with, I write much faster than I draw, and the slight drag
of the nib on cold-press paper when I’m writing annoys me. I also don’t like using
wet media on thin, smooth paper that I prefer for writing.
But the more significant reason is related to privacy: I
want to share my sketches but I have no intention of sharing my journal
writing. If I put a sketch online, I don’t want to have to digitally blur the writing
surrounding an image. If someone asks to see a sketchbook, I want to be able to
hand it over without hesitation. And most important, I don’t want either my writing or my drawing to be hindered by whatever
else might be on the same page.
My DIY planner |
Once I understood this, I accepted that my sketchbook would
never be the words-and-sketches kind I admired of others – and that it was
perfectly fine to have a separate book for each task. But that’s when things
got complicated.
For the past several years, my planning and journal keeping processes have become more and more
streamlined, and I’ve gotten them down to two A5-sized notebooks that I’ve DIY’d into a planner and a journal/log book. So at least my
writing life has gotten simpler. (Oops, I forgot about my occasional travel
journal. . . more on that later.)
My sketching life, however, has gone both ways. After
experimenting with many sketchbook sizes, types and formats and using several simultaneously, the past three years I’ve been very happy binding my own in
a single consistent format – apparently the only way to get everything I want. That
simplified my primary sketchbook need beautifully. But I’ve also always had a
secondary need – a smaller, catch-all sketchbooklet
that I could pull out quickly and use with simple materials. After going through
nearly every commercially produced pocket-size notebook, ranting about the crappy papers in them, I finally resorted to the
same DIY solution: making my own.
Field Notes Workshop Companion: Just right for both sketches and notes. |
For a while I was happy with those – a large and a small
sketchbook, both portable, both handmade. Then last summer I stumbled upon a
surprise: Field Notes finally came out
with an edition containing paper I could happily sketch on. I started using the
Workshop Companion for small sketches as well as memos and other brief notes when
I’m out and about; I was able to eliminate the small scratchpad I used to carry
for brief notes. And I decided I liked the Workshop Companion well enough that I
wouldn’t have to make my own sketchbooklets anymore.
Then a few months ago Field Notes surprised me again – with the Sweet Tooth edition’s booklet of red paper! You know from my recent sketches how much fun I’ve been having with
those (I’ve filled three so far, and I’m on my fourth). I may eventually go
back to white or lighter colored papers, but in the meantime, I’ve bumped up
against another complication. Since the red paper is a little too dark to take
notes on easily, I’ve had to start carrying an auxiliary notebook just for memos
again. One step forward, two steps back.
Messy notes and sketches in my auxiliary Field Notes. |
And then there’s still the occasional need for a travel
journal, which is currently being met by a pocket-size Rhodia notebook. When I travel, I leave my planner and
journal/log book at home, so the pocket Rhodia serves both those needs. It
holds not only my written musings; it also contains reference information; glued-in
ticket stubs and other ephemera; even some sketches. (Interestingly, my travel
journal comes closest to the fully integrated words/collage/drawings book I’d
always wanted – and what a beautiful mess it always ends up being!)
Just recently I started pondering whether I could use red or
Workshop Companion Field Notes instead of the Rhodia. . . ? One Field Notes is
certainly slimmer and easier to carry than the chunky Rhodia, but I’d need four
of five of them to match the number of pages I typically fill in a Rhodia. Can
I stand having all those separate books for one trip? (The one with reference
info I need will inevitably be the one I happen to leave back at the hotel.)
My France travel journal filled with writing, sketches and collage (pocket-size Rhodia notebook). |
Some things get simpler even as others get more complicated.
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