I carry a sketchbook wherever I go. I'll use whatever is at hand — paper bags,
hotel notepads, scraps — but usually I have a small leatherbound book, a brand
which, unfortunately, is no longer made. When I heard that they were
discontinuing them I bought a pile of them to tide me over.
It looks like a bible more than anything else, and it fits neatly in my coat pocket.
The paper inside is either antique white, or buff colored (depending on which one
I grabbed that day) and has a wonderful laid texture that will accept just
about anything that lands on it — pen, charcoal, spit, you name it.
The books have traveled with me all over the world, kept me company in places
where I was a total outsider, couldn't speak the language. But the language of
line was always there, and it bridged the barriers like nothing else could.
I draw all the time and love trying to capture the incredible beauty of everyday
things around me. When I was living in New York I struggled to draw the people
I shared the subway with. Literally one of the best places to people-watch.
I hope that you have as much fun sifting through all of these as I did drawing them.