The drawings are loose yet tentative, recurring themes, snatched moments. Even my habit of inserting cryptic messages that only I could decipher seems to have done trick. They act as doorways into greater pools of memories.
I find myself sitting leafing through them, suddenly an hour has gone by but I’ve re-lived through a year of experiences in that short time..Thanks to the trusty black moleskins.
I’ll pack them away again, carefully of course and then forget they ever existed until some future great grandchild uncovers them in an unlikely place.
Two or three may gather around and wonder aloud at how easily people were pleased ‘back in the day’.
These may all be gone by then, perhaps a few hanging on your wall?
Rainy day, hence somber tone. Enjoy!