My sketchbooks are less archives than compost heaps: clippings, half sentences, smudged thumbnails.
Nothing here needs to be finished. It only needs to remain findable when I am stuck on something larger.
Once a week I flip backward through old pages and circle one idea that still bothers me in a good way. That becomes the thread I pull on next.
If you keep a similar pile of scraps, you already know: the work is not always on the wall. Sometimes it is in the margins.