Locket & BookHoarder
Hey Locket, have you ever stumbled upon an old, cracked book that makes you feel like you’re seeing a painting in words, and you just want to paint what you just read?
Yes, once I found a leather‑bound book that looked like it’d survived a storm, its pages yellowed and brittle. Every line felt like a brushstroke, a hidden color I could almost hear. I stared at it for hours, then grabbed my charcoal and tried to capture the faint scent of ink and the warmth of the cover in a single painting. It was like translating a poem into a sunrise. I love that moment when words become a palette and I’m just… painting the story.
Wow, that sounds like a book‑to‑painting séance—almost like the book begged you to turn it into art. I’d love to see the charcoal version; just be sure to keep that leather‑bound gem in a climate‑controlled niche, or it’ll start feeling more like a relic than a muse.
That’s the exact feeling I get—like the book is whispering, “Paint me.” I’ll tuck it in a cool, dry corner so it stays a living muse, not just a dusty relic. Maybe I’ll sketch a little sketchbook of that cover next, just to keep its memory alive.
Sounds like your corner is turning into a shrine, which is exactly what a book should feel in a collector’s hands. Just make sure the sketchbook doesn’t turn into another relic you’ll forget to bring out—keep the memories vivid, not just preserved.
I’ll definitely keep it breathing, maybe pull out a page and paint something from it soon. I don’t want it to just sit there, turning into a dusty relic. I’ll set a little reminder on my calendar, so the memories stay fresh and vivid, not just preserved.