The Lost Book of Art

Oh dear.  Wednesday morning when I was packing up for the day, I discovered that I had misplaced my Book of Art.  I'm assuming I left it at Turtles, when I pulled it out to sketch a combination desk/chair/shelf some other Wordos were talking about.  I guess that I when I got up to pay, I left the Book on the table.

Now the question is did other folks notice the book and pick it up, or is it in the Turtle's Lost and Found.  I'm trying to think if I've written or drawn anything super-embarresing.  Mostly the Book is filled with geometrical drawings, rough drafts of story ideas, and sketches of character clothing.  The Book has been in use for about eightteen months, and I don't think there's anything erotic in it, but of course if there was, that's where a random person opening the book randomly would open it to.

I'm having a little fun imagining Ellen Saunders finding the book and being afraid to open it because, once, about 1998, Ellen and I were with some friends at a Corvallis Chinese restaurant, and I was sharing a sketch from that book and I'd forgotten that on the opposite page was a fairly explicit gay erotic poem I'd written about Mark.  Ellen turned a little pink, said, "Oh MY!" and fanned her face with her hand.  And then I realized what had happened and wanted to slide under the table.  So I can imagine Ellen carefully picking up the current Book of Art and securing it shut with its leather lace and front cover button.

I can also imagine the wait staff looking through the book and wondering which of the crazy writers who descend every Tuesday wrote it.

[Postscript:  I managed to get to Turtles Wednesday afternoon and recover the Book, so it's now The Found Book of Art.]