Happy Holidays & a Year of Daily Doodles 🎉

Happy Holidays! I hope this season finds you all inspired, resting, and excited for 2025 ahead in less than a week.

I’ve worked on a doodle project for the past year that I’m set to complete on Tuesday. I’d love to share about it now, with some coordinating drawings. Without further ado:


“13 Things I Learned from [Almost] a Year of Daily Doodling”

It just feels good to draw. Period.  I knew this intrinsically as a child, and I got to relearn it this year.

The less pristine, the better, the more confidence. During January to around March, I frequently made a soft under drawing in pencil, which I would then trace with a pen or marker before erasing my guiding lines. By around April, my confidence had grown so that I rarely grabbed a pencil first. From July onward, I can’t remember grabbing a pencil to start at all. 

 

Ink-feel is a thing. Some days, I wanted slippery, twirly gel ink or a smooth ballpoint or the gentle flutter of wooden colored pencils while other days I liked either the blunt ooze of a thick marker or highlighter or the waxy appeal of crayons that slowed me down. Just like picking hues to use, my mood could dictate the material I grabbed. Once or twice, I bought new markers or pens to play with. There’s something very affirming and soothing to the nervous system about making marks on paper, even if the drawing doesn’t turn out. Okay, especially when the drawing doesn’t turn out.

 

Limits open you up. The most time I spent on a drawing was 20 minutes, but that was mostly in January-February. After that, my daily doodle journaling tended to be less than 10 minutes, including any coloring with colored pencils/markers/coupy pencils/crayons. The more I intuitively trusted that I could make good marks, the easier it got to increase my speed.

Phones are great for reference photos:  Sometimes I could draw using my mind’s eye, but for other days, a quick image search on my phone yielded many options for reference photos that really helped as I considered various angles and shapes and details to pick and choose from for my own doodle. I reminded myself that professional artists have long used references to research, prepare, and/or draw. No shame in the game.

 

Yeah, this is drawing, but feel free to combine with captions whenever you want to: Sometimes, I drew little captions or a sentence or two of explication or just arrows and words to label my drawing. I’ve read a few artists’ (published) notebooks and drawing how-to craft books since 2020 that show other artists who integrate small bursts of prose as well, which gave me the idea (and the permission) to mix and match.

Prompts are magical: I have two or three sketchbooks I’ve made intermittent doodles in over the past two or three years, but having a daily page with a specific prompt on it took the what-should-I-try-to-make decision away and opened me up to whatever the prompt asked for each day. After drawing, I made it a ritual to mark the next day’s prompt with a page marker, but I didn’t read the prompt until it was time to draw each day.

Ditch or amend prompts whenever you want to: Now and again, I didn’t know how to make what the prompt asked or didn’t feel like following the prompt, so I didn’t.  Like the day I decided to draw a bunch of stars. I just made something else up on the spot. Also liberating.

 

 

Some drawings can’t be improved with more focus or more effort—that’s fine, let it go, and you’ll draw more tomorrow and the next day.

 Some drawings can bloom with more effort or focus. You’ll know the difference. One day, I skipped a space and labeled the new drawing as “take 2.” If you want to keep trying, then keep going.

 

Watching the pages accumulate, even if most of the drawings are still not braggable or even what you’d hoped, is one of the best feelings ever. Before starting the daily doodling, I had more of a when-the-mood-struck drawing practice. Not exactly the best way to grow one’s art.  Becoming stronger at an art requires more than just dabbling when the mood strikes. I knew this from my writing, and I had the chance to relearn this with my drawing.

 

Imperfect? Who cares? The journey was for the fun and for the growth in it, both of which have paid back handsomely. 

 

Drawing every day makes me want to draw more. Once I finish the year this week, I know that I’ll want to continue to draw regularly. Paging through my daily doodles from January 1st to late December, I can see how my drawings have gotten more secure, more space-taking, and also more okay with the mistakes in perspective. Here’s to more doodles ahead!

 

"3 Exciting Ways Creating Art Enhances Writing" Published 🖼️🎨

 Super excited to share my new article that was published today at Women on Writing! Check it out. 🥳

3 Exciting Ways Creating Art Enhances Writing

By Melanie Faith

Have you always wanted to try (or get back to) painting, drawing, making videos or music or fiber arts, dancing, sculpting, photographing, making jewelry, making hybrid work, pottery, or another art form but felt like it was out of your reach, you didn’t have enough time or the right skill level? This article is for you! You have great company. Including me. 


As a creative writing teacher and author, I didn’t consider myself a visual artist and I didn’t allow myself the time until recently to explore, dabble, and create the other things I really wanted to make. 


It took me a lot of years to realize one of the reasons. Art class in sixth grade was required for all students. How I loved noodling around with the supplies and chatting to classmates at our art tables, making jokes and attaching feathers and sticks and other items to our mobile projects, getting charcoal smears on our hands as we tried our hands at drawing of a vase of flowers and then our classmates’ profiles. It was just like elementary-school art, only better, because the lessons were more challenging and covered diverse types of art. Then something unfortunate happened. 


Seventh grade art was an invitation-only club. And I didn’t get an invitation to join. I’m pretty sure that’s the point at which I stopped even trying to just make things for the fun of making them. The exclusion of it settled: art-making is for others


So for years, I carried cameras and photographed all matter of artsy things without calling myself a photographer or trying to get published. I visited museums and student art shows and doodled in margins of journals but never showed anyone. I never talked about it (like I told oodles of people about my writing), and I never took classes. Sometimes, I grabbed scissors and glue and made collages from old magazines that I put on my door to amuse myself, but I never considered just how happy it made me to create these things, just how contented and relaxed I was in the making process, because I didn’t think I was talented at it.


Eventually, I started to take baby steps. I started to share my photography, first with friends and then submitting to magazines. A few years ago I treated myself to a “real” sketchbook where I could stretch out across the page and make bigger marks. I gave myself more space to make, and it enhanced my writing life.

  

I’d love to encourage you to explore whatever arts appeal to you as well. Don’t wait for permission or until you feel it’s comparable to a famous artist or even to the quality of something you’ve seen a friend do. Begin now. See what you can do. No stakes, no pressure. 


Let’s take a look at how practicing an art—any art—can deepen and inspire your writing process. 


It boosts play and discovery.


I’ve long been a fan of serial cartoons, one-panel comics, and graphic novels. I love the multitude of options for telling a visual story well. As a young kid, I devoured Cathy, Frank and Ernest, Peanuts, Hägar the Horrible, and Garfield in their daily installments in my parents’ newspapers (and made a scrapbook of them one year), and once I started teaching and graphic novels became part of the high-school curriculum, I discovered afresh the amazing story and character possibilities in comics through Persepolis, Maus, and Scott McCloud’s craft book, Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art. I began doodling a little caricature of my face and my waving hand that I enjoyed adding to cards for friends and my nieces. This year, I finally gave myself a fun new challenge—to write a 3-page comic I called “I Could Have Been Veronica.”


I worked for about a month, from conceiving the story to hand drawing the panels, to revising the story and drafting twice before the third, final, draft. And had the best time! Is it professional? Nope! I’ve got some (okay, many) slanting lines, and I redrew more times than I’d like to admit (here’s looking at you, waving hand that looked gnarled and pair of tap shoes that were a terror to draw in scale), but did that ultimately matter? Not one jot. I spent many pleasant afternoon and evening breaks with my colored pencils, pens, and notebook, adding to the three-pager until it was time to share at my blog. 


It halts perfectionism, the inner editor, and the competition-fair mindset.


The important thing was never that the comic should be perfect or professional quality. The goal was to get lost in the joy of seeing how I would create this three-page comic. To evolve and stretch the limits of what I could draw and say within the tiny frames. To relish the moment of creating for prolonged, short bursts. That is, the goal was not to compare it to anything I’ve read and adored in graphic novels, comic strips, and cartoons, but to make my own something. A pure, untainted, joyous flow of creativity. Making art for the sake of making it. Very satisfying.


It facilitates joy. (Who couldn’t use more of that?!)


It matters less and less that I’m not naturally talented in the visual arts I’ve chosen to enjoy (I will pick up what I need to know through making things, exploring, reading about them) or that I wasn’t seen long ago as a good candidate for art club (that was so 7th grade!). I like to make things now, want to make more in the future, and that’s enough. Whatever I make will encourage my perceptions, challenge and inspire me, and engage the side of myself that likes to reflect and dream. Refreshing.  


Join me for my August Art Making for Authors class, which begins August 2nd. You’ll get a chance to break out some supplies and practice the kind of projects you’ve been wanting to make. You can pick any form of art you fancy for each assignment, and we’re not looking for perfection or comparison—we’re looking to savor the making process.  Learn more and sign up at: clickety-click.

Doodles 🖼️

It’s been a hot minute since I shared some doodles, so I felt like a post would be in order.

I’m not above using erasers or cover-up tape to make my drawings better if the first try goes awry. 😉

For my birthday last year, my awesome sister got me a doodle journal. I’ve had lots of writing journals over the years, but never one specifically to encourage my development as a visual artist.

Each page has a prompt. They range from very broad and easy to interpret to real headscratchers that make me amp my creativity and test my sketching abilities, like the day it suggested drawing the final scene from a movie (gulp!).

I spend just ten to thirty minutes on each drawing (the shortest sketch was my Easter tulips), often in-between grading and making a snack or at the end of the day when I’m wide awake but too mentally tired to dig into a draft in-progress.

I find I care much less about whether the sketches are realistic enough to satisfy my inner censors and much more about the fun of using the art supplies.

The slowdown is very rejuvenating on my nervous system—almost like swimming, I can feel the languid time opening up. I was thinking about that a lot this week, as I paged through what I’ve doodled so far and treated myself to a box of soft oil pastels, which are new to me.

This has also given me a chance to practice doodling people, one of my weakest skills. I gave it a whirl on a doodle of a Jane Austen book cover as well as my version of The Bard.

I used a variety of colored pens, colored pencils, gel ink, whatever was handy on these sketches.

Sometimes, I accompanied the sketch with a short sentence or two reflection, almost like a journal, either in answer to the prompt or just a thought on my mind, such as the day it was 18 degrees outside.

Enjoy this medley of doodles from my sketchbook, and may you continue to find enjoyment and inspiration in your own writing and artistic journeys! Create on. 🥳

Thanks for taking a look at these sketches and for all of your support of my books and teaching. Signed copies of my latest poetry book, Does It Look Like Her? , available at my Etsy store: clickety-click. Also, available (unsigned) through Amazon: clickety-click. 📔

This prompt asked doodlers to draw a self-portrait of themselves from another era. I drew myself in an 1860s tintype. My 1860s self is not as smiley. 😁

Copies for Signing Have Arrived! 🥳

Great news: my copies for signing have arrived. If you’d like a signed copy, here’s the link to my Etsy shop:

Does It Look Like Her: Signed Poetry Book— Clickety Click!

Copies [unsigned] are also still available through Amazon: Book Clickety Click!

I also had a ridiculous amount of fun creating this self-portrait with my book. 😁

Thanks for all of your support, and here’s to books and poetry! 📔

Does It Look Like Her? Book Birthday! 🎂

It’s book-birthday time! 😊So excited to release my little-book-that-could out into the world of readers. It’s available now at Amazon: clickety-click. 🥹📚

Photo: Free Stock at Unsplash.com, courtesy of Laura Adai

For anyone who’d like a signed copy, I have some books en route: I’ll post that link to my Etsy when I have copies in hand, likely later this week or early next, so sayeth the postal estimate. 😉  

If you’re on Goodreads, please consider adding my book as a want-to-read and/or leaving some stars and a short review at Goodreads or Amazon—reviews make a huge difference in championing a book and are much appreciated. 💗

 A poem from the collection to celebrate book-launch day🎊 :

Alix Encourages a Discouraged Student Who Stays After Class at the Art League 

 

it’s okay

to be tired

of it all and

yet to keep

showing up

 

in fact, what

they don’t

tell you is

we all do,

it’s how we get

to a breakthrough

 

Photo: Free Stock at Unsplash.com, courtesy of Ashe Walker

Reach 🤩

Reach

Sketch in colored pencils & black felt-tip pen.

I haven’t shared a doodle in a while, so I figured it was about time to break out my sketchbook and play a bit.  

I was thinking yesterday, too, about swing-arm lamps. The kind architects often have on their desks, but sometimes also students and offices. I didn’t know that they were referred to as “swing-arm” lamps until a quick search-engine search delivered that little golden nugget into my life, which I now share with you. 😉

Speaking of innovation and knowledge, I read a book two or three years ago about the Bauhaus, a German school of design, arts (including theater, sculpture, pottery, stained glass, wooden toys, and poster design), and architecture in 1919-the early 1930s. Fine arts and crafts and some very sharp-looking designs were created by young students and their professors which continue to inspire designers of furniture and architecture. They made innumerable creations in their carpentry and metal-working workshops, from chairs and swivel lamps and photography and arts posters for theater performances given at the school to coffee-and-tea sets and glassworks and weaving and you name it. If the design was geometric, spare, innovative, and functional during that time period, it was probably cooked up and refined at the Bauhaus.  

I’ve never owned a swing-arm lamp, nor a gooseneck lamp (which I think of as their fanciful second cousin), but I’ve often admired both. There’s something very appealing about the way they’re designed—form and function working hand-in-glove. They don’t just sit there stationary, but offer instant flexibility for the user. Wherever the light is needed, le voilà! Here we go; instant warm spotlight. Then, economically pushed back when not in use—until the next time.

Continued growth as a writer often requires a reaching process that combines a hearty blending of the initial sizzle of the imagination intermingled with the stability and support of consistent application, mixing the heat of creating with the cooler temperatures of refining and editing the vision into new forms for sharing.

This end-of-year time gets all of our gears turning with goals we’ve finished and those we haven’t and those we’d like to dream up for next year. Without putting pressure on ourselves (because nobody needs more of that!), it’s a good season for this kind of if-you-can-imagine-it-you-can-make-it-happen reflection.

It’s a good time for downshifting, daydreaming, and putting some plans into action for the coming months.  I have the kind of mind that needs no encouragement to cook up a project or ten and imagine the endless permutations and exciting possibilities. I also have the kind of mind (and enough experience as a writer and creative) to know it takes time, organization, trial-and-error patience, and planning to see a project to its conclusion so that it’s ready to share. I try to give my imagination free reign for a while, and then I begin to organize that wide expanse into a series of steps (accounting for setbacks and a learning curve along the way).

I’m cooking up some fun projects for 2024 that I can’t wait to share. At the moment, one project in particular is very new, wobbly, interesting ground for me, stretching what I already know with the many, many things I don’t. It includes a-million-and-one steps that I’m learning (and reading about and trial-and-erroring and trying-again-and-againing).  Stay tuned!

I am delighted to share that I have three online classes that I hope will inspire fellow creative writers and artists to invest in their own dreams and goals and talents as well as to try new creative goals that will inspire reaching into new territory as well.

If you have a friend you haven’t purchased a gift for yet or would like to invest in your own artistic process, I’d love to work with you and a friend! Mark your calendars. All three courses accepting sign-ups now 😊:

*In Tune: Writing about Music in Fiction (starting Friday, February 2, 2024; 4-week class; NEW!):

https://wow-womenonwriting.com/classroom/MelanieFaith_Music.php

*An Inside Look at Launching as a Freelance Editor (one-afternoon webinar; 1-2 pm ET; Friday, April 12, 2024)

https://wow-womenonwriting.com/classroom/MelanieFaith_FreelanceEditorWebinar.php

*Art Making for Authors (starting Friday, August 2, 2024; 4-week class; NEW!)

https://wow-womenonwriting.com/classroom/MelanieFaith_ArtMaking.php

I also have craft books aplenty that make excellent gifts, such as: From Promising to Published:

Here’s to reaching into our imaginations and cooking up the projects that will interest and sustain our creative growth both now and throughout 2024!

Write on!

 

In Tune: Writing about Music in Fiction! 🎶

I’m crafting some exciting new projects for 2024, including a delightful 4-week online writing class at WOW! for February.

Introducing: IN TUNE: Writing About Music in Fiction!

If you’re looking to treat yourself to some writing motivation or looking for the perfect holiday or birthday gift for the writer in your life, look no further! This class will rock! 🤩🎸🥁

Course description:

Fiction is filled with references to music: from high-school dances and music-school students, singers, music teachers and lessons, garage bands and musical instruments to records, rock concerts and folk/indie festivals and coffee-house performances, opera and musical-theatre performances, and so much more. Many of us spend our happiest hours with music in the forefront or background of our lives as soundtrack. There’s a type of music-inspired prose for as many musical genres as you enjoy.

Whether you’re writing a scene or story about a music practice, a novel with a musician or music fan as a protagonist, or just want to know more about how musical fiction works and/or add musical references, vivid characterizations of vocal performance, or music-centered scenes or references to your writing, this course will explore how music culture, sound, setting, POV, and more are portrayed within fiction to enhance and inspire your own rhythmic, compelling prose. Knowing how to read musical notes isn’t required for this class—just the desire and sincere appreciation for both music and literature and to add another tool to your literary toolkit.

Students will choose one novel with a musical plot to read independently, and the instructor will provide excerpts from music novels as well as handouts and a weekly writing assignment to get the muse melodically flowing! Join us for this new course that’s sure to strike a chord.”

To the great joy of writing and music! Sign-ups open now! Clickety-click: IN TUNE: Writing About Music in Fiction!

Give Yourself a Break 🍂

Here's the nudge you've been waiting on. Go ahead. Give yourself a little break today.

My daily and weekly to-do lists run off the page; I'm sure most of yours do, too. I so seldom decide to clear some time in my afternoon for a slowdown, but I knew when I woke this morning that it was just what I needed to rejuvenate my artistic well.

For an hour or two, I'll continue to play with my photos and maybe start some poetry or prose, too. And perhaps read or listen to music.

Even if you can only squeeze in twenty minutes and you schedule it in for tomorrow or a weekday or an evening after work or at 4 am before work, give yourself the gift of a pause to daydream, create, nap, listen to music, reflect, take a walk, take up space.

You, too, deserve an unexpected respite. 🥳
#artistslife #artistslifeforme #createeveryday #rejuvenate

New Doodles and Reflections 🎉

I felt like doodling some teapots yesterday, and then I sat down and wrote a few reflections that fell out of my head in essay form on the theme. Just fun to share. 🌞

For a few years, I bought a lot of tea kettles. I wasn’t starting a collection; I was gifting them.

 

If you had invited me to your wedding or to your housewarming party or to a similar occasion in that stretch of time you likely received one of these beauties wrapped in a roll of polka-dot or confetti-print paper. I bought them one at a time, brand new, and with the individual receiver(s) in mind. They were, in that way, personalized.

 

Sometimes, I picked enamel ones with a spate of blue, green, or red geometric designs or tiny, hearty yellow flowers across the belly; other times, I picked a plain kettle of shiny russet or a penny color; or a glass or porcelain teapot. It depended on the store’s stock and sometimes on my mood or the color combos that seemed to match the friend or cousin or coworker I was shopping for. Some of the kettles came in printed cardboard boxes and some did not. Regardless, I hand-selected and filled-in a personalized message for each kettle.

 

I always added a box or two of the sachets filled with pocket-square sized, often-flavored tea (orange pekoe, black tea, green tea with mint, English breakfast tea, lemon or another fruity flavor with fun, often alliterative product names) to go along with the gift so that it was immediately useful, immediately (I hoped) a part of the recipient’s daily life.

 

In my enthusiasm to gift, I could have planned better. Thinking back on it now, I guess I could have/should have asked if they even liked tea. I could have just gone with something on a registry, to ensure they didn’t get doubles and have to return it. I didn’t know if any of my recipients already had kettles. I loved tea, still do, and what I wanted to gift most was what I loved most: the ritual of starting with something basic and elemental and fortifying—water that would also become some steam, herbs—and within just a small amount of time (usually less than 5 minutes) a whole experience: a break, or a companion for the morning, or afternoon, or evening when sleep was futile, was created. Over and over, this comforting surety of rest and fortification.

 

Most tea is made now (mine included) in a small microwave that gives a tiny chirrup of beeps and then stops. Sometimes, I wait with my eager spoon a few feet from the muted window as my mug spins and spins inside the machine, and sometimes I use that time to fish through my many boxes to find the flavor of the day. It never gets old—selecting the flavor.

 

I don’t have a kettle at the moment and haven’t gifted anybody one in years, but I still love everything about these simple beauties: their hollowness and their heft; their handle like a purse a great aunt handmade for me when I was a kid that lifts up or can be tucked back, out of sight when not in use; the elephant-trunk curve of the little spout; the dainty lid with its knob that makes an easy lift-and-remove or fit-into-the-groove possible.  They do not require an app to operate; they run on the thought to use them, time, and patience.

 

Those minutes waiting for the water to bubble are a handbrake—Slow it down, down, and down again. The additional moments of the sachet simmering fragrance also speaks a similar language—Don’t leap ten steps ahead; be here. 

 

One day soon, I may likely find the perfect one to gift myself. But even if that time is a ways off, there is the ritual of the cup, the water turned to curlicue steam, the flavor. There is the everyday transformation to stillness and reflection: much like words, available for combination, creation, consumption, and recreation. A small part of the day, but one that betters in its own steadfastness, in its own pleasing way. 

 

Purple gel pen, colored pencils.

Some kettle practice. 😉

My first kettle that somehow ended up in proportions looking rather like a genie lamp! 🤣