Sketchbooks

I began keeping a sketchbook whilst working as an au pair in Italy, aged 18. I had mornings to myself and I would eat breakfast at home and get out to wander through the city before I had to start work. I remember the wonderful smell of coffee brewing everywhere, and the sounds of mopeds buzzing through ancient streets - their tyres slapping over cobbles, and Italians shouting at each other. I would stop and draw wherever I could on the journey. The first images you see here are from the sketchbook I carried everywhere that year.

I’m so glad I have kept sketchbooks - not only does the practice of drawing regularly mean taking time out to feel present in my life, an opportunity for relaxation and reflection where I get to be a silent observer, bringing the opportunity for a break from the endless chatter, mental noise, digital notifications and ‘pushing’ that is modern life.

It also means I now have these time-capsules - a kind of a way to go back in time - reminding me of who, where and why I was.

Perhaps, the act of drawing is the ‘I am, I’m here’ and the sketchbooks the name scrawled on the school desk to say ‘I woz ere’.