Sketchbooks

Sketchbook

I like sketchbooks. Leather-bound, hardback, crisp white paper. I try to always have one around, simply because I’m a firm believer that if you carry something everywhere you go, you’ll be able to use it at any given opportunity.

That being said, there is always something that unnerves me about them. Not a lot, just a little… but enough to make me think about it.

A couple years back, I started putting the date and the place at the top of every page; and it’s this feeling that compelled me to do it.

Everytime I start to draw or write; I always have this feeling like I’m being watched. Not like someone is there, but that some is reading this page far in the future.
And it sounds a little egotistical. But don’t get me wrong. I don’t feel like my work is worthy of future historical relevance, I just feel like someday someone is going to try to read these things and understand who I was.

Maybe that person is me as an old man. Maybe it’s my kids. Maybe my grandkids. I guess it’s weird to think about that, but I’m wondering if everyone who writes a diary or journal thinks about that. Or is it writing only for yourself? For my writing, it’s not just for myself. It’s meant to be read, to be enjoyed, to learn from.

If someone, maybe my descendant is reading this down the line, know this: I think about you all the time.

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