On Sunday, I lost my sketchbook. My little one, that I carry everywhere. I lost the two pens I keep clipped to it as well, but they’re replaceable. It was a little cream colored book that I made and was loving. My last two pages in it were soooo cool. Now, gone forever on the streets of Portland. I can not express how much this frustrates and saddens me. It’s like losing a little piece of myself. All the time spent recording stuff in it, gone. I did however promptly make another and have began filling that one, but there’s no replacing something like that. It’s only the second time I’ve lost a sketchbook. The first time was on a bus in Thailand. I realized it minutes too late, and there was no possible way I could track that thing down. Well, I hope somebody found my book and at least thumbed through it for a bit before chucking it, which is what I imagine happened. Fair well little book, and welcome, new little book.