Feel that

Ok, let's talk texture. Today's pointless (or should I say pointy?) texture photo comes to us courtesy of one of last year's Jimsonweed seed pods. Jimsonweed, in case you wondered, is also known as Angel Trumpet... by those who don't want to think of it as Jimsonweed. It's pretty. Just don't chew on it (or smoke it or whatever it is that one does with Jimsonweed. Whatever it is that one does, it's REALLY REALLY STUPID to do it).

Anyway. Texture. I'm kind of weird about texture. Or fascinated by it, I suppose. I like textures in my photographs (if you've ever wondered why on earth I took a photo of *fill in strange subject here*, texture or pattern usually have something to do with it). I'm fussy about the textures in my food. And texture is the main reason I doodle instead of painting.

I mean, besides the fact that I don't paint.

And yes, I know that the pseudoartsy stuff is supposed to be going here these days, but today it's not. My house, my rules.

Doodling, then. It's so much about texture for me. And yes, I know that there can be a lot of texture in a painting, but that's not the type of texture I'm thinking about. I'm more about the type of texture you can touch.

You can't touch the textures when you're painting. Well, not unless it's a finger painting, I guess.

I love the textures associated with drawing. I love good art paper. Yes, I'm one of those strange people who can spend altogether too long in an art store just feeling the various papers. I won't go so far as to say that the texture of a paper speaks to me (doodler, after all; not artist), but boring paper does bore me.

Take my field sketchbook, for example. I have a decent, coil-bound sketchbook that is purposely made for field sketching. That may, in fact, be why it's called a field sketchbook, come to think of it. Stiff, supportive covers, heavy paper... heavy boring paper... boring, boring paper... I hate my field sketchbook. I've only used about the first dozen pages in it, simply because the paper is so bloody boring. I just can't get enthused about the boring paper in my field sketchbook.

Yes, I'm fully aware that I may have a problem, but I can't help it. If it doesn't do it for me, it doesn't do it for me.

A while ago I bought a couple of Moleskines, thinking I might use them in place of my field sketchbook. One for sketching, and one for watercolours (kind of silly for someone who doesn't paint, yes, but I got a better deal by buying them both). I'd hesitated to order Moleskines because they tend to be more expensive than a (boring) field sketchbook and I kind of figured that they were all hype, but curiosity finally got the better of me and I plunked down the cash for fancy-ass elastic-bearing back-pocketed all-hype Moleskines.

They sat for a while. I was kind of down in the dumps and didn't really feel like doodling, and the all-hype Moleskines didn't seem to make much difference. Until I finally opened up the sketchbook and gave it a test-doodle.

I love my Moleskine.

The paper? Is not boring.

Yeah, the thing is still overpriced and overhyped and, let's face it, a gimmick... but it's not boring.

If it does it for me, it does it for me. I guess.

Paper's not the only thing about doodling that does it for me (texturally-speaking), of course. There's the smoothness of a good quality graphite or carbon pencil, the smudginess of charcoal or chalk pastel, the fluidity of a nylon-tip pen, the fact that I get to buy neat toys...

Ok, that last bit's not about texture. It's more about my misplaced need to buy school supplies every fall. But still... um... ok, there's no way I can fit that into the topic at hand. Never mind, then.

All I'm saying is that it's about the texture and giving my hands something to do. It's never going to be art, and I'm not overly concerned that any of it's even worth looking at.

Sometimes you just have to enjoy feeling, you know?