Artbooks

I always carry a notebook…Because Art and Ideas take precedence

Through the years, in addition to hours of audio recordings, I have produced and accumulated bookshelves full of original notebooks. Currently, I prefer the thick watercolor paper books, not too large, about 6x9 and bound, not perforated. I find the paper in “sketchbooks” a little too thin. Spiral notebooks are out. I destroy them. Because a notebook, is not just a notebook, it is a vehicle for process oriented creative activities. No result required and a wonderful tool to keep the creative muscles strong. I can utilize almost any type of notebook, but I prefer blank pages rather than lined pages, and in most cases thicker paper is better. I have been keeping notebooks since the early 90’s. One of my favorite activities is to visit a new and strange place, pull out my notebook and jot down anything and everything going through my head. The weirder the better. Observations. Poems. Song lyrics. Or simply a word or collection of words. I also draw pictures and keep interesting ephemera that I find, printed paper, cards and photos. I have one particular notebook filled with writing that isn’t writing, but an unreadable language and pictures, and a few translations about a time traveling goldfish named Terry.

About 7 years ago, an artist was sketching my performance at the Rock N’ Roll Cafe in Barcelona. Afterwards he handed me a portrait, and during our conversation, I showed him one of my tiny notebooks. Knowing exactly what I needed to lift my game, he gifted me a multi-color watercolor pencil. All over Europe, I added those magical colors to my pocket-sized notebook. By the end of the tour, that pencil was no more than a nub. I eventually found some similar multi-colored pencils back home, but none will ever compare to the brilliance and psychedelic hues of that which was freely given from the heart of an artist.

My notebooks are written in a code that only I understand. I don’t worship or cherish every stroke of the pen. All is subject to change, to be edited or crossed out, re-written, or ok, perhaps I do worship and cherish every stroke of the pen. I am just not attached. I have thousands of words written down, but only a fraction ever make it into a song or poem or story.

I generally tend to have a variety of notebooks open and going at once. One type of small notebook is for ideas, and another type, I make from scrap paper, and those are usually for lists. I almost always have a mothership notebook in process, for dedicated exploration of ideas. These can take years to fill up. The mothership books are a bit larger, and have a more permanent feel, but can still travel well in a backpack or guitar case.

I liken the mysterious messages, from myself to myself, as a map that defines a place that is not a place. They allow me to recall thoughts and feelings from a moment in time, long forgotten. The scribblings are a way to connect with meaningful and significant points along the journey. When I look at a page, I often recollect the place, time, sounds, smells and other memories associated with the moment, even though they aren’t specifically written. A title or lyric will re-emerge after years of dormancy. It springs back with enthusiasm, like being on hold and finally getting through to a favorite call-in show.

A few of my little books I have formalized into a tangible and shareable object, to be read at leisure while hiking or mowing the lawn. These palm-sized paperbacks are perfect for skipping and whistling. No assembly required. Batteries not included. Complete as shown.

They are a condensed and extremely reduced version of the originals. And yet… so cool.

I am writing this today from my porch, in a rainstorm. It’s the perfect time to stay inside. But I also have this guitar next to me and after looking at these note books, a few good ideas I’m itching to get out. If you like the notebooks, I’ll be sure to share more in another post. Have a great day and remember: You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him knit a sweater.