So I came home yesterday with a set of casts made of my teeth. Sometime last night, it came to mind that they would make an unusual object to sketch and might spur me on to make a paper journal entry. Earlier this afternoon I sat down and got to it:
One sketch of plaster teeth later, I decided that they would look a good deal better coloured, and that I had a set of markers which would do nicely. Always on the lookout for an opportunity to use my markers, I fetched them and got to work.
It was only when I was nearly done that it occurred to me to check if there was any bleed-through to the other side of the paper -- you know, the side of the paper on which I had half a beautiful sketch of Churchill Square that I'd spent most of the week working on.
My heart sank. It's always harsh when something one loves is ruined and I have no one but myself to blame for my carelessness! On the other hand, as I sat there and stewed, I realized that I finally had my journal entry. I guess there's no inspiration like the inspiration you get from your own gross errors. Also, now that I've made the inevitable horrible mistake, I can relax and get on with filling my journal.
