Sketchbooks and the importance of them can never be underestimated when it comes to visual journaling, they are diaries of our unique artistic expression. They are part of us, and our way of communicating how we see our surroundings and record our inspirations. So the thought of losing one somewhere in the wilds was quite upsetting to say the least. Before I start my blogging journey with you I want to highlight a little sketchbook incident which was potentially a complete disaster.
Cotton Grasses on the high fell.
A wanted to revisit a fabulous view of the coves and crags of one on my favourite hills. I had noted the position on a walk the previous week and so I decided it will be my next painting. I set off, rucksack filled with my gear for the day and headed off up the hill.
Sketching buddy.
It took about an hours walking to reach my position on the lofty blustery col where I wanted to sketch. I dived into my rucksack to pull out my beloved sketching kit………where was it! After pulling everything out and turning the rucksack inside out, it was clear my sketching kit and sketchbook were not in the rucksack. Panic and dread swept over me as the realisation of where I may have left it hit me!
On the walk up, dark waterlogged skies in the distant hills suggested an approaching shower, which quickly led to being caught out by a heavy hail shower, my clothing rapidly becoming soaked. Dragging my waterproofs out of my rucksack, I couldn’t get to them quick enough. Hopping around on one leg I desperately tried to drag my over-trousers on before I got totally drenched. Did I drag my sketching kit out at the same time, I certainly don’t remember putting it back again. OH NO!!!! Surely not, have I lost it? I would have to go back and look for it!
I had thought about retrieving the day with a quick sketch using a pen and a bit of paper which was in the top pocket of my rucksack. I quickly dismissed the idea and set off to locate my precious sketchbook. I was off down that hill as fast as my short legs would take me. As I approach the area where I thought it may be I slowed my pace to see if I could see that old gnarly red bum bag containing my precious kit. Nothing! Oh no! I just hoped that I’d had one of those forgetful moments, (I’ve had plenty of those), and left it at home.
Finally I arrived home hot and bothered! and was I pleased to see that little red bag lying on a chair in my studio, ready to go into my rucksack. Reunited, what a relief!
Minimalist sketching kit
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