A tall tale

Finding productive chunks of time for my artwork is still proving a challenge, but as the summer goes by Henry’s House is looking more like our soon-to-be home. Even the odd hour for an excursion with my pochade box is hard to find, so I’ve decided to grab the odd 5 to 10 minutes outside with my sketchbook. Now, do I need to buy a new sketchbook to get me in the mood, or do I have one lying about that will inspire me?  A little hunting and gathering exercise uncovered the answer to my question…………..

………The grand total of 50 sketchbooks, of various shapes and sizes. Some still new and precious, others (about 26 to be precise) a little dog-eared with a tale to tell.

Having created my sketch-book instillation, rather than picking up a pencil, I miraculously found an hour or so to look through those that I had already started. Lots of memories came flooding back – just like reading an old diary.

The oldest one I found, was the smallest – I remember buying it from WH Smith when I was still at school – the ET transfer on the front probably dates it to 1980-something and some of the faded pencil cartoons on the cover might suggest that I was about 11.

However, the first drawing inside was of Blythburgh,1987  - probably around the time my parents moved to Suffolk and I started college (I was no longer 11 in 87!). I expect I tore out the first few pages and started afresh. 

The following year I used it for another sketch – a peaceful day sitting in a boat on a loch in Scotland whilst my boyfriend fished for trout. Move forward another 10 years and the little sketch book makes a trip to Cornwall and I sketch my boyfriend (a different one!).