Bloggering

I used to write my thoughts in sketchbooks. Not everyday, but often. I liked using sketchbooks because if I suddenly found my thoughts could best be expressed in a picture, the media was already in my hands. Not so when the sketching goes online. True, my phone puts the writing and posting of photos in my constantly twitching fingers, but suddenly my little sketches have fallen by the wayside. I wonder if I have forgotten how to draw completely. Even my words have lost their spontaneity as I struggle to type out letters and compose for a possibly instant audience. (I know this sounded better when I was brushing my teeth.) There is also the oppressive need (when typing) to both spell correctly and to finish sentences.
I bring this up as I pack a lifetime of sketchbooks to move into yet another home. I delight to look through them. The drawings, doodles, pasted in extras enchant me still. I am not 30 when I read them over. I can't even look at them as a teacher ("how do these pictures function? What kind of composition is this?") but in the head of the woman I was then.
I was always buying new books too-- whether I forgot to bring one when needed or I found a beautiful new one. Hence, they are not in chronological order, and I shudder to think what a mess I will leave when I am gone.
This has a point. It did when I was brushing my teeth. I miss writing, brainstorming images. But it feels so childish now. (Do I have to let that go too?)

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