I have a notebook that I’m filling up with pen drawings. Usually I crop drawings to eliminate the extraneous edges, but when you’re dealing with a notebook, to crop the picture is to ignore the notebook itself, and that I think eliminates a significant part of the charm. An artist’s drawing notebook, like other books, participates in a mystique of opening and closing. You enter another world, as it may be, in opening a book. Closing it, you leave. A book is rather like a door that way.
I like the area of space in the unused page, the way that previous drawings bleed through and appear like ghosts. They blur the edges of separation between the pictorial things and remind the observer that everything exhibited is ultimately just lines of ink on a sheet of paper.
I have several vases in the notebook now. Each drawing is a little world. And the notebook, therefore, is what? Door to a miniature alternate flower universe.
Keep going they look great. I often have the idea of keeping a notebook of sketches in pencil, pen, watercolor, … I get one or two done then look at all those empty pages. Or I do such a lousy job I have to tear pages out so I won’t subject myself to looking at them over and over. It would be so satisfying to complete a book with work you liked.
I am very impressed you can get past the lines. This is quite profound – ‘They blur the edges of separation between the pictorial things and remind the observer that everything exhibited is ultimately just lines of ink on a sheet of paper.’ It is like your observation of trying to capture the edge of things (related in a way).
These remind me of a travel notebook, like you are going on a long trip through flowerland and taking us with you as spies.
I like entering in notebooks, in the world of carnets de dessins.
They have a very human feel, very easy to spend time with.
thank you everybody!