I've been going through a lot of boxes shoved into one corner or another in the house, and have been coming across more and more old sketches. Some of them in proper sketchbooks, others on the margins of history notes. This one in particular was hanging out in anthropology, next to some bits about language and stratification. By how sparse the actual notes are, I can tell my focus at the time was mainly on this.
It's funny though, all of this cleaning is like opening up a time capsule. There are some terrible, naive drawings that embarrass me to the point of wanting to burn them. But then there are charming, oddly out-of-place ones that make me want to pick up a pencil again.
All of them seem to be snapshots of my mindset at the time. Flighty or focused. What was important to me. What bothered me. How far was I willing to go for it. I could see potential in a just a few pencil marks, if I had just pushed it a little more. There's at least a decade's worth of these moments that I've been carefully pouring over this past week. Seeing what I missed or overlooked.
But now that we're reunited, it's never too late to breathe life into them again. When the room is clean, it'll be time to start anew with what I apparently had all along.
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