A pattern seems to be emerging with my sketchbook. On the days where good things happen, I'm bringing out some drawings that I'm really happy with. On the more . . . blah days, I'm hitting the black ink and half assed effort and bringing out things I wouldn't be happy with if they were meant to be final works.
The beauty of this, though, is that they aren't. They are just small sketches in a small sketch book and even when I don't love them because whatever (you know, layout, colour, tone, effort, end result, ascetics*, line work, text, etc etc etc) they are just little notes for me to refer back to. They are pieces of the whole, not the book itself.
It seems I am learning to forgive the mistakes this Inktober. Not always a comfortable lesson, but a valuable one.
*I just typed this word 5 different ways and spell check couldn't decide if I wanted athletics or ascetics and by the end I wasn't even sure this was the word I wanted or what it even meant!!