sketchbook

I carry sketchbooks with me everywhere I go. When I come back from a walk and hold a leaf, an acorn or a flower in my hand, I look closely, trying to understand how it is built.  As my eye moves over the form, I realize that drawing is a way of seeing. Sitting down with my sketchbook and focusing on a leaf takes on a meditative quality. It gives me a few moments to block everything else out and let my pencil and eye follow the form.

If I were a drawing master, I would set my students to copying these leaves, that they might learn to draw firmly and gracefully. It is a shore to the aerial ocean, on which the windy surf beats. How different from the white oak leaf with its rounded headlands on which no lighthouse need be placed.
— Henry David Thoreau, Journal - November 11, 1858