One of these days I'm going to build a bonfire in my backyard and throw in all the old journals, notebooks and sketchbooks I've got cluttering my little home office.
The old sketchbooks are maddening to revisit because for every page with a drawing -- there are ten (or more) pages of partial doodles that I gave up on before moving on. I imagine real artists' sketchbooks are filled with fascinating drawings with no such gaps. And when those artists die, nobody later looks at these books and finds a bunch of pages with nothing more than a nose or a scribbled-out rabbit.
When I was very young, my mom used to get mad at me for wasting paper because I'd only put a few lines on a page before tossing it. If those first few lines weren't perfect -- what was the point of continuing?? I'm too old to change. And I can't ever apologize enough to the trees who died providing me with the paper I've wasted.
This posted doodle came from a very ancient sketchbook of mine. It's probably from my senior year of college.