I don’t have a clue where this all is going, and I’m reasonably ok, actually, with the not knowing, even though circumstances would otherwise dictate that I put effort into surer returns. Perhaps this is the avenue toward surest return. And already, look how I digress.
Still digging into and through the pile of artwork, years of it. Loose sheets and sketch pads and tablets for too large for the scanner leaving me no clue how to manage them.
So I opened up one of several books o’ stuff this morning to continue the review of what I have on hand, and I thought I’d pull a page at pretty much random to help illustrate just what’n hell I’ve gotten into here.
While there’s nothing especially magical about this page, it’s illustrative of what lurks here in pile form. As well, it’s certainly representative of the whole purpose of a journal or a sketchbook: take down ideas, however well or not-so-well formed. After time, you may come back to a forgotten thought thread and pick it up again, or you may see something in an entirely new light and send it in an entirely new direction.
So then, here’s just one page of quick black line ink sketches. Plenty more where that came from.
The bunny and the bus, I’m flagging (at least mentally, though a more tangible notation, somewhere, may serve me better) for future review / development / finishing.