Notebook
When I was in art school, living in the dormitory, I was shocked by the number of people who asked me in what language my journals were written. How did they know there was anything odd about the writing in my journals unless they secretly tried to read them?
My notebooks and sketchbooks tend to look alike. No matter how good my intentions to keep one book for notes and the other for drawing, I can’t write without sketching, or sketch without writing.
The language in these pages is English, but it’s a cipher; a phonetic alphabet I created when I was a teenager to cover the fact that my spelling was so atrocious. Those were the days before spell check programs…
