It’s almost “Never touch a Black man’s stereo” mode. It’s a thing. it is…you know what it is? an Era. It’s the beginning of an era. Something good is about to happen and its going to take more than words to document it. My inner child came home in waders-those thigh-high fishing boots i’ve always wanted, even though i havent learned to fish yet.
She is now making snow angels on a mountain of acryls[acrylic paints], brushes and whatnot, as i peer shyly over at the most important acquisition for ME…sketchbooks.
we went way out in the boonies just to have a plethora, an abundant selection of them to choose from. It had been that long.
“You can just use that paper[laser]& a clipboard, right?”
I’d reacted like someone had said i could take my child’s skin off & stretch it so he’d have room to grow in it. “No- NO!nowhat is- no-sketchbooks-i NEEED…sketchbooks.”
I didnt know it was that bad until all that came out of my mouth.
Two. 9x12s. Ok and a third one-but its more of a journal, smallish covered with gilded peacock feathers. That one felt Gooooood to grab.
There’s a workbook gotten early on my re:arrival here.but its not a sketchbook.huge.gorge. not beat-up-able. I’ve sketched. All through the workbook for the past 6months[omg i’ve been here 6months in like 3 days.i made it!]. Designed three dresses over a week ago.different paper.technically disassembled pads perfect for the proportions i croquis out at. i even got a sheet music pad the other day to facilitate part of the current book project. But a sketchpad? I’ve bought hordes of journals, moleskines, planners et al…but it is very possible i havent bought a simple good sketchpad since nyc 2009.
Out the corner of my eye it gleams at me.Has been beckoning me the entire time i’ve been writing this post.
“Come smell my paper.”
“Drag your fingers across my…grain…:”)”
It gets almost pornographic up in here…very wuthering heights, lady chatterley,story of O~ as in “…oh my…what weight is That~?”
Onto my only enduring negro spiritual lol.
Thank God for paper products lol