Sketch a day 3

Sketch a day 3.
Missed day two.. only was home for 1.5 hours... needed to feed myself.

attempting sketch a day

This is the epitome of my week last week... the dog train... the three year old in front, me in the middle, scruffy fourteen-year-old at the back. Snow.

The difficulty with a 8 year project...

The trouble with a day like today is I read so many notes, notations, lectures, writings that by the time I look up another quote needs a citation and all I have is Trina information floating around. I hear her voice saying the quote, but then maybe it was someone else quoting her... and then there's the Caldecott recording running with her reading it in my head.... can't you just trust that I know this as truth? I've read so much it's become less about where, and more about fact. My brain is a random factoid center for all things related to Trina. How many vitamins you ask? 17. And then there's the visual part of my brain that can often picture the font the quote is in... but, where oh where is that font... flip another binder open...
Oh, where was that one quote from...
And then I go again, flipping through each of my many pieces of research. I scold myself for my crazy note taking like, "23a "here's a great quote""--what the hell did I mean by source 23A Molly-the-Younger??? or when I find a sheet of paper with them listed and enough of a source for me to follow: "Good job Molly!" And then there's that box in the closet at my parent's house, and the box on the floor of the room I often sleep in at my parents with yet more folders... or my sketchbook with post-its stacked on top of post-its, the binding broken, the paper falling out...
And where was that one quote again???

Routines

The morning has been dedicated to work on the Trina book. I took the dogs for a walk, ate breakfast, showered and was at my desk at 9 AM. My goal was to write for three hours, uninterrupted. That mostly meant I could not answer my phone (I did pretty well with this save for when my dad called but he did just get out of surgery so I wanted to see if he was doing ok).

I peacefully worked in the quiet, flipping through old research to follow up on quotes I may not have cited in the original writing, smiling as I read over friendships, voices, random bits of information that play no important role in the book itself but fascinate me none-the-less. Then 10:30 hit. My stomach was hungry. I was getting stiff. (Sometimes I still forget I can't do one posture for much more than an hour and a half). So I wake the pups, we do a quick walk to let them go pee, then back inside, quick can of soup... then I figured I can't just go back to the same body posture, so on with some Beyonce, do some dancing, then back to the "drawing board" for me.

I could do this life full time.