I didn't mean to spend Friday cleaning out the paper drawers in my studio, but our dear old weimeraner dog, newly deaf but still with a finely tuned nose, had inspected them and smelt a rat, literally.
He started digging and scrabbling, pulling out the bottom drawers with precious sheets of watercolour paper stashed in them and no amount of yelling (he didn't hear a thing) or pulling would deter him. I had no choice but to remove the drawers one by one until he could fit his elderly frame into the space and at last emerge with one scrap of a mouse's Fabriano bed delicately held between his front teeth. I should be grateful... and I am, but it was the start of a long nostalgic graft sorting through 'stuff' from the seventies, eighties and upwards that I'd promised myself I'd get to one day. I've put it all back - with a potion of spices to deter rodents in case the dog didn't terrify her quite enough - you'd think in a way that I could find everything easily again, but no, I have no idea. I found so many memories, sketched, scribbled and painstakingly illustrated, one or two of which I thought I might post here, but I can't find them. I found this ultra quick NeocolorII scribble of our daughter today though, sitting on the couch with her school 'fish' art project in front of her that brings back such a strong memory of a slow, sunny afternoon - one of the few she wasn't off doing... something. Perhaps not my finest sketching half-hour but don't you love it when a few minutes with a crayon/pencil/brush long ago brings back so much?