Just playing around in my sketchbook the other night and this guy fell off the tip of my pencil. I don't really know where he came from. I didn't intend to draw him. He just kind of appeared. I think I'll name him Billy. Or Trent. Yeah, Trent's better for him.
I'm really happy because I finally finished my old sketch book. There is no more room on any of the pages. I'd even started drawing over older sketches. So, I get to start a new book. I always love this. And I always start on the second page. For some reason that is less intimidating to me. I can fill in the first page later with a cut out or a quote or a found object...ooh, the possibilities.
Lately I've had ants in my pants. I feel so energetic with nowhere to go. I get flashes of inspiration that make me want to jump up, grab some charcoal and streak across the room. I get story ideas that come to me like lightning and leave just as quickly. I'm having a hard time capturing all of it. I decided that I would do what I could and just try to write down the rest for future dry spells (look at me being all zen-like...ha!).