Old Sketchbook Scans

I recently finished one of my sketchbooks and since I didn't have time to stitch myself another, I opted to buy a Moleskine replacement. I should tell you now that I'm some kind of pervy paper and word lover, feeling and oogling sketch paper and old parchment, overlays and embossing, script and speckles so it comes as no surprise that I love pretty notebooks.

But I can never use them.    I must save them.

And it becomes so that my hoarding nature frustrates even me, but it's just too sordid, the first line on the first page (even cheating by using the second or third).It's like I have a princess in my tower, pretty, waiting and I don't have the heart to deflower her or behead her and I just let her sit there- forever.

Eventually though, those pretty things become surrounded by the ugly sisters I make just for myself, sturdy plain whores with cardboard covers.And actually, they have been some of my favorites .

Moleskine notebooks have good paper but are plain enough for me to properly sully and rape.

So, to "toast" my new sketchbook, here are some scans from one from a few years back (my latest sketchbook is still too fresh). They aren't formal drawings, more like my version of sketches (I don't make very good "sketches", more like cartoons of what I'm thinking of overall).

I'm like the fish being eaten! Yay me.

Also, I don't usually make detailed plans of what I'll make, instead I record ideas I'd like to apply to life. As it happens though, these pages have some characters I've turned into figures.

 

I tried to make that skeleton on the right hand corner out of paper clay before I ever tried to make a stitched version but it broke. Also, it was my first attempt with the medium so umm.. it looks amateurish but I'll show you anyway. 

Oh, Hai! I'm broken!

And then of course, there's the front page of the book, which is very telling of it's barebones nature:

The arm is a place marker

Of course, in the end I know it's not about the paper but the meat, what gets filled out and carried on, it's just...I like them to be ugly in hopes some day they may, perhaps become something wonderfully spectacular.