I love to look at artists’ notebooks. ^^Here^^ is mine. (Well, actually, I prefer to look at the insides of the notebooks, but sorry, this one’s still too fresh to bare).
It is a messy place, scuffed, tagged, dog-eared, x’d out, scrawled across. I’m against making the notebook a sacred place. I’m in favor of messes.
When I start a new notebook, I always write this quote from Robert Hass inside the front cover, even though I don’t really believe it: “Take the time to write. You can do your life’s work in half an hour a day.”
It’s the half an hour part that I don’t believe.
But you can do at at least some of your life’s work in half an hour a day, so there’s that.
Here are some snippets from my notebook, selected at random:
“Over again I feel thy finger and find thee” Hopkins… Deutschland
Lament for Untitled
Also, that Goya painting.
(Imitating Wright, god help me)
3/15/2017 ( and you? )
snapped wing of your doubt
S-P as a Paper Boat
Also: the moon as ashen
bleh bleh bleh
Note: written below attempts at poems
A.R. Ammons “A Tree Full of Cleavage Bared Branching”—one word from it: chantless
papery->chartaceous(!), tissue, parchment
share (as n.)
From Linda Gregg’s poem “Blake”:
“I am finished with knife and window / My bed will be underground soon enough. / I will persist in this impermanence / that flesh holds. The body smooth, / the voices speaking within.”