I almost never set aside a sketchbook until it is finished. I like the pages to be absolutely full before I open the next one. But something about the last sketchbook just wasn't working. Maybe it was the size, or the paper, or the drawings, but it was bothering me every time I sat down to write or draw something down.
After much hemming and hawing and guilt about not finishing what I started, I cracked into an old box of handmade sketchbooks, found the perfect one, and started fresh last week. I'm so glad I did. Once in awhile, starting over is just what is needed. Some good ideas are filling up the pages again, and I'm feeling good about fall. I'm so glad I live someplace where the seasons change four times a year. It feels so good.