This morning I made myself a new comic diary.
Back in January I wrote a little about my diary habit/ practice/ addiction;
my hope, then, was that I'd keep using watercolor in my (mostly) daily entries.
So far, this has not been a problem -- indeed adding the color has become one of my favorite parts.
Back in January I wrote a little about my diary habit/ practice/ addiction;
my hope, then, was that I'd keep using watercolor in my (mostly) daily entries.
So far, this has not been a problem -- indeed adding the color has become one of my favorite parts.
What did become a problem was the paper in the Moleskine notebooks.
Part of my early thinking about the diaries was that if I made them too fancy
I might expect myself to produce something 'good' every day,
and that would be inhibiting.
So instead of books with 'drawing' paper (which I find a little slimy anyway),
I chose the ones with thin lined paper and, coincidentally, the most pages
so I didn't need a new one very often.
This strategy worked very well until the inking/watercolor thing became habit
and I found myself with wrinkled paper, bleeding color and pages torn and taped after a too vigorous erasing of pencil lines.
Taping pages is a hassle.
And I do like water in my watercolor.
Part of my early thinking about the diaries was that if I made them too fancy
I might expect myself to produce something 'good' every day,
and that would be inhibiting.
So instead of books with 'drawing' paper (which I find a little slimy anyway),
I chose the ones with thin lined paper and, coincidentally, the most pages
so I didn't need a new one very often.
This strategy worked very well until the inking/watercolor thing became habit
and I found myself with wrinkled paper, bleeding color and pages torn and taped after a too vigorous erasing of pencil lines.
Taping pages is a hassle.
And I do like water in my watercolor.
Finally, annoyed and brave in equal measure,
I ordered a Moleskine with their 'special' watercolor paper (none in the local book store).
Alas, however, when it finally arrived I was disconcerted to find that it was Landscape rather than portrait format. How had I missed that?
Now I had two things to get used to: new paper AND new layout. Arrrghghghg.
I ordered a Moleskine with their 'special' watercolor paper (none in the local book store).
Alas, however, when it finally arrived I was disconcerted to find that it was Landscape rather than portrait format. How had I missed that?
Now I had two things to get used to: new paper AND new layout. Arrrghghghg.
My assumption was that I would like the the paper
but not the stretched out format -- so linear.
but not the stretched out format -- so linear.
As so often happens, however,
what I think I'll like, I don't
and what I don't think I'll like, I do.
Who knew I could put my entire backyard on one two page spread?
But that notebook is almost full (a drawback to thick paper)
and I this morning I had to decide -- re-order or make one.
what I think I'll like, I don't
and what I don't think I'll like, I do.
Who knew I could put my entire backyard on one two page spread?
But that notebook is almost full (a drawback to thick paper)
and I this morning I had to decide -- re-order or make one.
emergency comic diary made while waiting for the backordered Moleskin watercolor book; 300 lb cold press paper; Happily, I had one piece of Arches 300 lb cold press in the basement
and though not a full sheet, it was exactly divisible by 3 1/2" and 11" (for a 3 1/2" x 5 1/2" book)
Such luck!
It's really nice paper, but I believe I'm now committed enough to this practice to just bliss out on the way the paint skips and dances across the bumps and settles with such richness into the holes. The cold press is not terrific for inking (not like the hot press on the adjacent test page above), but right now it feels just right.
And if i don't like it -- well it'll probably be full in a couple of months (or less),
and I can revisit the question.
and though not a full sheet, it was exactly divisible by 3 1/2" and 11" (for a 3 1/2" x 5 1/2" book)
Such luck!
It's really nice paper, but I believe I'm now committed enough to this practice to just bliss out on the way the paint skips and dances across the bumps and settles with such richness into the holes. The cold press is not terrific for inking (not like the hot press on the adjacent test page above), but right now it feels just right.
And if i don't like it -- well it'll probably be full in a couple of months (or less),
and I can revisit the question.
And in the meantime: score, tear, fold, score, tear, fold, score, tear, fold...
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Such a treat to get to work with my trusty paper tools:
bone folder, beeswax, linen thread, translucent ruler, and my super deluxe hole poker.
bone folder, beeswax, linen thread, translucent ruler, and my super deluxe hole poker.
 Also, thank goodness for Keith A. Smith and his books (Thank you Patti!) |  |
Happily, I do not have perfectionist tendencies in the book making realm.
Soon is better than perfect.
Soon is better than perfect.
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But no, that's not true.
Given my fussyness about paper and format, I guess my perfectionist tendencies are reserved for the endless process of refining tools and processes that, however half-assed, are somehow perfect for me.
I feel so fortunate to have these choices,
to be able to commit my angst to paper in a way that somehow helps to make it (the angst), less important, leaving me free to -- well, you know, save the world and stuff.
Given my fussyness about paper and format, I guess my perfectionist tendencies are reserved for the endless process of refining tools and processes that, however half-assed, are somehow perfect for me.
I feel so fortunate to have these choices,
to be able to commit my angst to paper in a way that somehow helps to make it (the angst), less important, leaving me free to -- well, you know, save the world and stuff.
