Recently I pulled out my dusty old sketchbooks and few of the newer ones to trace my footsteps through the world of academics to my present state of being as an artist and writer. With over thirty years of sketches, poetry and short story writing to wade through I felt excited and yet overwhelmed by the prospect of excavating my past. It's like inserting myself into a time capsule, reliving things that might be better forgotten in the fog of faulty cellular memory. At the same time I might discover some possible elucidating and beautiful moments in time. Surrendering to the unknown I opened the oldest book first containing yellowed, cracked and torn pages of figure drawings, writings of a youthful exuberant and tumultuous young mind and some things I simply can't mention here.
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My suggestion to all artist and writers is to keep all your note/sketch books so that you can visit them and so that others might be able to share in your process of creation.