Highlights From Four Years of Sketchbooks
Ten Pages That Changed Me
Over the past few days, I’ve been paging through the last four years of my sketchbooks — eight Moleskine Cahiers, three Pentalic Travelers, and one small hardcover that carried me through a difficult season. I thought I was just gathering images for a post. Instead, I found a whole body of work: a landscape of my becoming.
What I discovered is that my sketchbooks don’t just record practice. They hold emotion, identity, vocation, and grace. They form a context — a way of knowing — and a path of discovery.
In the images that spoke to my heart, I kept noticing the same seven qualities appearing again and again, little touchstones of what matters most to me when I draw: delight, discipline, wonder, flow, imagination, essence, and tenderness.
These weren’t planned. They emerged on their own, like the quiet grammar of my artistic life. You’ll see those qualities woven through these ten highlights, because they’ve been shaping me all along.
My sketchbooks don’t just record practice. They form a context and a way of knowing.
The Sketches
White-breasted Waterhen — Dec 2021
Four poses of the same bird, all on one page. Preening, walking, studying the face and the back of the head. I remember the joy of drawing these, the pleasure of simply observing, of staying with one bird long enough to know it.
Touchstone: Delight.
Foot Studies — Sept 2022
Seven small studies of bird feet, cross-contour lines wrapping around the forms. I lingered over these shapes, learning by looking longer.
Touchstone: Discipline.
A Turtle in Maine — Aug 2023
Drawn from a photo my husband took while we were kayaking on Horseshoe Pond. I had been in months of anxiety and burnout. That day, I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time. When I drew the turtle, I touched a quiet part of myself still alive beneath the exhaustion. This drawing was a lifeline.
Touchstone: Wonder.
Owl Thumbnails — Dec 2023
Six tiny sketches exploring value and the branching patterns of the trees behind each owl. I remember how much fun these were and the joy of noticing the world that holds the bird.
Touchstone: Delight.
Spotted Sandpiper — Jan 2024
A sandpiper drawn in a rare burst of artistic lightning, where every line felt alive. One of those fleeting moments where the hand moves freely and you wish you could bottle whatever grace visited you.
Touchstone: Flow.
Common Mynah — April 2024
Seven studies made while preparing for a commission. The central sketch — expressive, abstracted, essential — became the center of gravity of the whole page. A moment where practice became devotion, and devotion became clarity.
Touchstone: Essence.
Story Beginnings — May 2024
A planning page for an autobiographical comic: birds, birding, my marriage, and art. This sketch mapped the shape of my vocation as it had gently unfolded without me even realizing it.
Touchstone: Imagination
Birthday Card Comic — June 2024
The preliminary sketch of a comic panel for my husband’s birthday card. He’s carrying his sound recording equipment (which he calls his “big ear”) with some whimsical birds perched on him. A small piece of our life together, full of warmth and story. A reminder that my sketchbooks hold my heart as much as my hand.
Touchstone: Tenderness
Chevy Apache Pickup — July 2025
Drawn during a season of deep effort and aspiration. This page reveals my longing to grow, not from harshness but from a sense that something in me wants expression.
Touchstone: Discipline.
Javan Green-Magpie — Oct 2025
A ballpoint rendering that felt like a step in the right direction. A moment where all seven touchstones became one: clarity. A glimpse of the artist I’m becoming.
A Few Things I’m Carrying Forward
Gathering these highlights revealed something deeper. My sketchbooks have been quietly speaking to me, page after page.
Delight.
Discipline.
Wonder.
Flow.
Imagination.
Tenderness.
Essence.
I found the pillars of my voice. Not something I invented, but something I earned through thousands of quiet, faithful moments.
My sketchbook practice has become a trusted guide: a compass, a companion, and a source of quiet purpose.
And I hope, in some small way, these sketches offer you a bit of courage for your own practice — whatever form it takes — and a reminder that every page, even the quiet ones, carries grace.
🪶 If this reflection helped you, I’d love to welcome you as an Insider. That’s where I share deeper lessons on drawing birds, building confidence, and growing a sketchbook practice with gentleness.
Oh my gosh. We also have a dog named Finch! Thank you for sharing. This is much needed encouragement to get me beyond the 'deer in the headlights' brain block when it comes to committing to a sketch book.
Thanks for writing this, it clarifies a lot. How did 'essence' emerge?