I have always kept a notebook / journal / sketchbook and have ones dating back almost 30 years. The practice evades any personal ambition, rigid rules, or performative function — keeping sketchbooks is more like having a secret room with a comfy lounger I like to hangout in.
Every sketchbook I make begins with an intention. This intention informs a mark-making process I perform on large sheets of paper in advance of tearing, folding, and binding them into a book.
This ritual began in the fall of 2002 at a high-rise apartment in Genoa, Italy. I had purchased a few large sheets of paper and spent every night for a week sketching the city with the house lights turned off. The intention for that sketchbook (#2) was around intuiting my way through my travels, having my eyes open to the journey, even if I felt unclear or in the dark about the outcome.