Sketchbooks and the Stairway Ghost

Every once in a while someone asks me why I do this - why bother spending so much time with a sketchbook which I'll never sell, can rarely display in a gallery (because most galleries don't like exhibiting things that aren't for sale), and which, when finished, will wind up on my bookshelf with all my other sketchbooks, where very few people will ever see it again.

Because there are so many answers to this, I tend to be unable to pick just one, and find myself frozen and tongue-tied, and, later, when the moment has passed, having a fierce debate in my head, where I'm endlessly eloquent and persuasive and have all the reasons I drew a blank on earlier. There's a French term for this that I learned recently - "esprit de l’escalier" which literally translates as - the stairway ghost, the feeling of having the perfect answer or comeback when you're already walking down the stairs after the debate.

So, one at a time, some of my reasons, which might be some of yours:

A sketchbook spread - an autumn tree, the Manhattan bridge, and some pigeons

#1. a sketchbook will change your relationship with time.

    We live in a world where time is constantly accelerating - we are flooded with information, coming at us at a rate faster than we can possibly process it. The feeling of time speeding up each year might also be a function of getting older - you might remember summers in your childhood that seemed to last forever, or the endless stretch between thanksgiving break and christmas. For most adults summers go by in the blink of an eye, and each year seems faster than the one before.  A sketchbook is a way to slow down time, to examine an object or a landscape, a day or a feeling  for longer, and deeper than we would normally. Time feels different when all you’re doing is looking and thinking and making something - at first “slow time” might feel uncomfortable, but as you settle into it you’ll find joy and meaning in the ability to focus on one thing, one moment in life - the page in front of you, the feeling of a pen or pencil or paintbrush in your hand, and of being truly present in the moment. Your sketchbook page can look like a doodle or a finished drawing or an abstract experiment with color, or some scribbled thoughts, but for the moment of it’s creation your time is entirely your own, lived at a pace of your choosing. 

In the sketchbook spread above, I got to spend a full day with an autumn tree in the Arnold Arboretum in Boston - it was mid October, and you could still feel the last of summer, and the air was full of dragonflies and the smell of falling leaves - I started early in the morning, and got to watch the sun turn the tree to gold. On the page to the right, I had about an hour in Dumbo, by the Manhattan Bridge, surrounded by pigeons and tourists. I had a chance to slow down time, to catch the moment (and a few of the pigeons) - to be fully present in the world.

My sketchbook shelf

For anyone who wants to begin their own sketchbook practice - I made a free guide with tips and advice - you can download it below: