In the process of unpacking and organizing in my new home, I came upon my sketchbook the other day. While coming upon a sketchbook in my home isn’t a rare occurrence (I currently am carrying grid-style and sketch-style Moleskine notebooks in my bag for easy access), this sketchbook was special. It’s over-sized with a worn paper cover and, from the outside, would look like any other. However, this book is extraordinary because, in looking at the content within, I rekindled my artistic flame.
‘What could be in such a book?’ you might ask. No words in particular, no grand works of classical art, no masterpieces therein. What I found inside this book were my projects for my high school art class.
I was so inspired by the time and attention to detail that I took with even the smallest of projects. While none of them is perfect (or anywhere near, really), a lot of the pieces were good, so good that my previous work inspired me. I decided that with more practice, more dedication, more time, I could create more good pieces of art and maybe even some great ones. The comments from my teacher were encouraging. While grades weren’t always great, her observations were always poignant. When I didn’t do as well as I wished, she told me it was because I wasn’t living up to my potential or my talent, that I hadn’t spent enough time on the piece.
And so, nearly ten years later, I am following her advice and dedicating more time to my creative efforts. I’m carrying around two pocket-sized books for them. I can now see that I am talented.