No.21 The Town Bound Trail
In which Summer's second bookend brings calls to come away from the wilded paths and don proper shoes once again. Let's talk about Commonplace books and sketchbooks.
This weekend marks the last of secular summer; a ‘back-to-school’ winding down of vacation; the return to a town bound trail leading away from the wilded paths and imaginary worlds, the daydreams and cricketsong of Summer. I will resist, as always— and mourn a little, too.
I’ve not been writing much here in the summer months, and I’ll try to make up for it a bit with several topics today: Commonplace Books and Sketchbooks. These two very different ways of bookmarking moments in time share a common thread: You can leave generalities where they lie, because details and specifics (however mundane) are what open the floodgates of memory years on.
The Commonplace Book
I’ll begin by noting that the small, elegant phrase used as my title is from Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders. It comes early on in the book, when the reader is still kind of learning the ways of the telling, and it stood out, wonderfully. It felt like it carried a lot—of mood, of meaning, of mystery— in very few common-as-dirt words. To arrive at something so structurally simple that carries much more weight than the sum of its words is a kind of magic. When I come across word-ly treasures like this, I note them down or record them in some way— so that I can enjoy them again at a later time, and perhaps learn from the people who wrote them.
I have long collected quotations and phrases— scattered about in decades’ worth of sketchbooks, notebooks, files on my computer, in the note app on my phone. Sometimes I make notes of my responses to them. I learned not long ago that this practice has been historically known as keeping a Commonplace Book. Over the past year or so, it feels as if the phrase has turned up everywhere, including the newsletter of Austin Kleon and most recently in Noted, by Jillian Hess.
In response to these oft-repeated visitations of a theme, I went through the nearly 200 un-categorized notes in my iPhone and consolidated recorded phrases and quotations (and other things as well, but not as intently as the quotations). I later tracked down a load more on my computer, but honestly, the collection on my phone in itself was enough to make me cave and admit I really ought to do this properly! There are more to be found, I know, in sketchbooks and day-books, but I’ll let those lie, since they’re safe in paperbound places already.
For the rest, I’ll use what I’ve gathered to begin populating Commonplace Book of my own. I’ve also joined Hess’s Commonplace Book Club. If you’re planning to join or have already, leave me a comment to say hello!
Finland and Estonia Sketchbook
Earlier this year, I went through a fallow period, art-wise. I’d been struggling to come through with works I felt strongly about in the etching studio, which meant I’ve applied to almost zero calls for entry this calendar year. Even leaving aside the idea of ‘finished’ works, I was feeling walled-off and stuck from sketchbook play or low-pressure pursuits. Months of this endured, until my trip to Finland grew close: I embarked on a brief, illuminating course from Karen Stamper on the topic of travel sketchbooks, and that, in partnership with my excitement for the upcoming trip, kick-started my enthusiasm.
I realize that my last two posts already touched on much of my Finland trip, and even a number of the panels in my Finland sketchbook— but it’s a different thing when a project is complete.
During that trip and the six weeks since, I’ve filled nearly two sketchbooks and started a third. I’ve been allowing myself to follow my interests and whims— treating the books in the way that’s best— as my own playground with little thought given for how or whether they connect or make sense to anyone else. It’s been a joyful reunion, and shockingly colorful! The books of this summer have given me a great boost in the confidence of my line and visual shorthand. I’m hoping that with continued play, I’ll also improve confidence and strength in the ways I use color (beyond using it to describe the way a thing ‘really’ looks.)
I had a second book with me as well, into which I wrote and collected things and pasted photos printed from a tiny gadget called a Mint printer. I’ve never done so much drawing and writing during a single trip. It felt great; the verbs to do and to make had returned.
In early august, I traveled upstate to visit family, and brought yat another book with me, one that I’d half-heartedly begun in the spring. During my week at the farm, I spent many happy hours on the porch, nearly filling the remainder of that book as well. The travel watercolor set I bought in June has been getting a lot of play.
The video below is a little sketchbook tour, showing both sides of my Finland and Estonia sketchbook. (Note: you can speed up or slow down playback speed-tap the three dots!)
There was a third topic I’d planned to write about here; a nascent project which has begun growing from a long-ago seeds. But that will have to wait. I’ve spent far too long on this newsletter (even if it doesn’t seem like it), and I want to get back to other doings and makings before the light is gone.
I forewent a trip to Coney Island with friends on this ‘last’ summer afternoon, because things to do and make were calling my name; things like this newsletter, my neglected Etsy shop, the staining of my deck, &c. I didn’t get to all of the things, but I don’t regret missing the beach too much— I only wish I had more days (more! more!) before punching the ticket on the back-to-work train. Such is the wake of Summer’s longing.
With luck, there will be weeks and longer of pleasant-enough weather for sitting outdoors before the dark days set in.
Until my next missive, thanks, as always, for being here. If you enjoyed this, please tap that little heart at the bottom! It makes me happy, and it’ll help more people to see my my posts in Substack :)
x Liz