The End of an Era

I don't know about all you other creative types out there, but I get very attached to my sketchbooks. I usually have about five going at once, each for different thought processes. I am overprotective of them and highly selective in terms of who gets to see what's inside them. Overdramatic, I know. I can't help it.

The other day I filled the last page of my "inspiration" sketchbook. I know nobody else really cares, but it's kind of a big deal for me because I started this one my first year of art school. It's been with me for seven years now. I started it as a place to collect images and articles I found that fascinated me for whatever reason. There's political articles, pages from fashion magazines, pages from National Geographic, gum wrappers, museum brochures, and a whole bunch of other random stuff. But the thing is, when it's all viewed together it doesn't seem like random stuff anymore (not to me at least). I start to see a certain style or a certain view emerge, a style and view that is uniquely mine. In the last seven years I cannot tell you how much I have changed as a person and all the wonderful and awful experiences I have been through and this overstuffed sketchbook has been there through it all. Excuse me while I get a little teary eyed.