I keep a really large sketchbook that I do most of my drawing in, but I have a little Moleskine that trundles around with me in the car so a haiku can jump into it if it feels like it. Normally scraps of paper and tickets and such go into the big sketchbook, but if I’m lazy they just get carried around in the little one until I’m drunk one night and listening to Abba or something real loudly and then I go to write something down and it pukes Polaroids and ephemera all over the floorboard.
That is some fine collage-y goodness. I love the state fair tickets especially (but why oh why must that old-fashioned roll-style looking ticket to have a corporate logo on it?) Not that that’s your fault. Love the obscured markouts in the book, too.
I love these little glimpses into your secret history.
Sometimes, the stuff you write really hurts me but not in a bad way. Does that make sense? And since I am making a comment can I just say how funny it is that you talk about being drunk and dropping stuff on your floorboards like it is a common event; you are not a role model.
Gorjus,
Really – it’s been less than a week since you’ve seen me.
I Remain,
Dip
i feel like i just saw something that i wasn’t supposed to see.
a secret, but a fond secret.
you know, when i read sally’s comment, i kept wanting to see that fish telling me it was ‘sekrit’ in the corner. of course, that would ruin everything, but its what sally made me want to see.
Beautiful.