St. Luke's Attic

I make drawing books and have been doing so since high school. Way back then, my drawing book was just a repurposed day planner. All of my drawings had lines, numbers, and dates through them. At the time, it didn’t bother me too much; in fact, I kind of liked the idea of having all of my drawings dated. I stuck to the dates pretty strictly, in fact, if I wanted to draw on a page that I skipped, I would feel compelled to make note of it so that years later I would know that the date of the drawing and the date on the page did not match. It’s probably related to a weird obsession I have with systematizing, organizing and taxonomy.

Anyway, I evolved from the primitive date book user into an Australopithecus spiralboundus sketchbook user. I filled two of these books. While there were no lines or numbers to be found in these books, I railed against the flimsy construction and poor quality paper. There is no way to construct the spiral in the spiral bound book that doesn’t make for a lousy book experience. They get all wonky, the covers won’t open properly, they won’t lay flat, the paper rips out easily. Whatever. I was discouraged because I certainly didn’t like the hardbound books I was seeing any more than the spiral bound. I didn’t know if my sketchbook experience was to become extinct!

Then, while I was in college, I descended from the trees, walked upright and discovered book binding. I never looked back*. The idea of making the book with my own manly, calloused opposable thumbs in addition to making the drawings in it was irresistible to me. In fact, I refuse to call my books “sketchbooks” because I think that the word “sketch” implies something done quickly with very little value attached to it. Most of my books take years to finish and I care about them deeply. (In fact, I sometimes dream about my books, but those dreams are not for this post.)

I usually approach a new book with little or no expectations for how it will look when finished. The drawings seem to suggest themselves to me as I work on the book. It’s interesting to me how each of the books have their own logic to them. They all look similar to each other in the way that family members resemble each other, but you would never confuse them. There are no identical twins in my book family.

Titles for the books usually suggest themselves to me around the time I am 3/4 of the way through. By this time, I have been looking at the drawings that I’ve done for about a year or so – give or take – and usually a theme begins to emerge in my mind. This is when I begin to decide on a title for the book. The drawing books seen above are, from the bottom to the top: Natural History; Concerning Religious Affections; Planetary Ambassador; Family Resemblances; Sins Committed, Sins Remitted; Drawings Done in Worship (or Heads and Arthropods); The Sleep of Reason; and my current drawing book Dreams and Visions (this last one is front and center).


I have no plans to ever stop making books. After Dreams and Visions, I am very excited to see what comes next.

*Except for once. The tiny little black book near the top of the stack is the evidence that I gave in to an empty temptation to devolve. I will talk about that some other time.