F***, I Lost My Sketchbook
A young artist's worst nightmare come true.
It’s 2015, somewhere in Copenhagen. At the time, I was working as an industrial design intern.
Earlier that year, I’d read a piece of advice from Leonardo da Vinci where he recommends that the artist always carry a sketchbook. I figured Leonardo was onto something. There was a paper store near my apartment where I bought a little white sketchbook with a pen drawing of a rooster on the front. And thus began my journey with that sketchbook. I started taking it everywhere.
Anyway, my friend’s best friend was moving to Germany to study fashion and she invited me to her bon voyage party. When I arrived at the party, it was in my pocket. The apartment had an atmosphere that was a blend between a club and a lounge. The vibes were immaculate.
It was late when the Uber dropped me home. The next morning, my brain got zapped with an idea and when I reached for my sketchbook it wasn’t there. I figured it was around somewhere. No way I’d lose it. I went through different scenarios and even reached out to my Uber driver and then my friend.
Reality struck me in the gut causing my stomach to sink. I had written and drawn a great deal of thoughts inside this little white notebook with a rooster head on the cover.
But it was lost. I made my peace with it. Always check your pockets before leaving. Lesson learned.
Several months went by and my internship was coming to a close. I was getting ready to go back to the US in a few weeks. By now, I had learned to cope by forgetting all about the sketchbook.
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