Ghosts of my creative past

Found my old teen scrapbook, in which I wrote prose and drew pictures, as a pastime. This is seventeen years old! Wrote that at a time when ironically, I had given up on love. (Sad at such a young age). One could dream anyway, right?  The poem in the middle reads:

“When the warming arms of the 

Misty morning sun

Gently stretch into the

Mother-of-pearl,

I’ll wake up to you.

Man, I was a sucker for romance. But life changes that along the way.

Along with my scrapbook, were my sketchbooks. From at least thirteen years ago. I used to draw female forms a lot. Faces. Hands. Then tried male forms, one of which was sketching Enrique from a cd cover. Back when I used to be a fan of his. Another thing that changed along the way to the present moment. Not so much a fan anymore.

There’s even an attempt at charcoal, long since abandoned.

I haven’t drawn in years. SO I really enjoyed finding these again. What makes it even more poignant, is that lately I’ve been feeling lost. And these took me right back to a place I thought I had long forgotten.

Do you still have your childhood or teen scrapbooks, sketchbooks, stories?

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Model from a magazine. Can’t remember the name.
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Fantasy mermaid
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Attempt at charcoal
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Enrique Iglesias
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Faithful woman

 

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