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!

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. 😁

New Notebook, New Season, New Doodle📝

Starting a new notebook—this little 5 x 7 beauty was a whole $1.25—is always a good feeling for me. Potentiality on each page. I’ve been experimenting with different types and sizes of paper for my doodles.

Last night, right before sleep, I broke out my new notebook, my 0.7 mm lead pencil, and my colored pencils and made an outlined sketch of a photographer. It was a peaceful, simmering hour as I drew a preliminary/reference sketch on scrap paper, opened the second page of the notebook (I often skip the first, as it sits a bit askew in the binding), and then started this drawing.

Filling in the figure was a particularly pleasant part of the process as well—colored pencils force a kind of quiet contemplation and over-and-over-and-over patience that slows my thinking and flashes me back to childhood hours quietly coloring or writing.

It’s probably not surprising that I would choose to draw a photographer in motion. One of my other happy places is photography (a few years ago, I wrote a book that combined my writing with my photography practice and tips, Photography for Writers).

Much like when writing, when I’m behind the lens, the daily drops away. I like the challenge of making what I see and how I see it into a composition. I like that it’s not an easy process nor a process I can take for granted or even a process that I fully steer, but that there are many do-overs available—as many as I have time and inclination to make.

Mostly, photography is a place of rare transcendence where the world slows and I make my thinking and my seeing into something at once me and not me. It’s a good space.

This is my first go-’round with sketching what I’m calling a silhouette portrait. Kindly ignore the erased shoulder and erased original feet, which I only realized after pondering them were pointing in the wrong direction from her body’s stance along with the smudge at the bottom of the page by the date. We’ll just call those markers of authenticity.😁

I have to say, though: I was a little surprised that one or two elements of this drawing felt to me like what it feels when I’m behind my camera: a liminal in-between space that just is what it is and unfolds as it should (if, frequently, not as I would have originally imagined).

Or maybe this is just my fancy-pants way of saying I couldn’t believe it actually sort of resembles a human and not a stick figure. 😆

The little notebook says “Plan” on the cover, but as we know, there are many things we simply cannot plan. Mostly, we can move, slowly, in a slightly new direction and see what happens, and then repeat the process as the happening unfolds. Drawings, photographs, writing, ourselves—all unfolding.

“Interior/Exterior: Reflections on Drawing a Scene” 🖼️

Happy March! I had so much fun writing a fresh flash essay about my doodle last month that I decided to create another one to share. 🤗

“Interior/Exterior: Reflections on Drawing a Scene”

I almost wrote this reflection yesterday afternoon, but I was hungry and promised myself that after eating I’d get right to it.  And then, I just needed to pay a bill quickly and I’d sit right down and write. And then, I remembered a time-sensitive email, and then…well, you know the rest.

Yesterday’s writing didn’t happen.  

Alas, I had the “perfect” hook pop into my head yesterday, but tonight is no longer yesterday. So, scrap that. My tone today is different, and my hook has evaporated like a cartoon bubble. So be it. This reflection won’t be about whatever that would have been, and that’s okay, too.

Earlier this week, I also promised myself some time to doodle during a break, and I did follow through on that intention. I decided to try to draw a scene—a whole interior SCENE!—which I haven’t attempted since…probably middle school. Yeah, it’s been a hot minute.

I usually doodle one thing at a time, or parts of a scene, or words/phrases paired with a mini doodle or two, but to fill a whole sheet with myriad elements kept my brain and my hand hopping.

I put on some music, broke out a coffee-table book filled with gorgeous photos, picked the one that called to me most as a reference photo that I then adjusted as I went.

I started my scene on a scrap piece of newsprint paper I bought online this summer in a jumbo, 500-sheet package.

There’s something about knowing that I’m not going to save the first drawing because it’s on the kind of paper that tears when an eraser hits it that frees up my creativity. Nobody will ever see this first sketch so, who cares? Onward!

Without contemplation first, hand motions of pencil on paper are often quite soothing.

I try to get that way about more things: that not skipping ahead to envision outcome. Sometimes, my creative process lands, and I don’t stop to examine or even to think about forming whatever I’m creating until I have a draft or five. Those are the best days.

More often, though, my mind loves nothing more than just to keep skipping ahead. Ahead, ahead, ahead!

I’m certainly not the only creative to find my process varies like this. Depending on my day, my mood, how tired I am, how hungry I am, fill-in-the-factor-here, the challenge of crafting something is either easier than imagined, or more frustrating than imagined, or (most frequently for me) somewhere in-between, but it’s rarely the same type of journey more than once.

Each piece needs something different of us, like every friend, like every life circumstance.

My original sketchbook scan in all of its uncropped glory, spirals and all.🤗

So, my interior scene (which I also drew in pencil first, free-hand, on the sketchpad page and then traced with felt-tipped marker and pops of color from watercolor pencils) has some walls that are certainly not architecturally sound, a baseboard that shouldn’t look like it’s cutting through one of the plant’s fronds, some picture frames that are crooked despite practicing perspective, and a chair that I’m pretty sure doesn’t even resemble a chair.

On the other hand, I got the happiest kick while drawing the arched doorway between the rooms that reminded me of more than one friend’s home, and drawing the little locks on the big bay window, and then having a light-bulb moment about adding in a pop of life-giving green on the plants, and attempting some splash of light across the floors, and making the one rug a sisal rug with squiggle motions, and then drawing lines for wooden floors, my favorite flooring—all, nothing but joy and in the flow. 

The floors!

The wooden floors. That’s right—I was going to write something about those yesterday.

There was also originally going to be something about the lemonade I tried recently and loved. But today’s reflection needed to be the way it turned out here—about the challenges (for me, anyway) of drawing whole scenes in scale and with perspective but doing it anyway, and something about the comfort of putting elements together that make an interior that becomes exterior, which is also, pretty much, what we do when we create, whether it’s a conversation, a painting, a poem, a dance, or a birthday party. So be it.

On the balance, not bad for a cozy interior. Not great or professional, but not shabby, either.  Onward!

Indispensable: New Doodle Art and Flash Essay 😃

I don’t often publish musings or unpublished essays in my blog, so I thought it’d be fun to sit down, write one, and share it tonight. Ta-da. 💐

Indispensable 

I’ve begun to sort through clothes and such for donation a half an hour here and there, a half bag at a time, low-key and gradual. 

I’m very grateful to have more than I need. It’s meaningful to inventory and also to pare back and then pare back again. To make room and space. To share. As I’m sorting, I imagine the new uses and happiness the items will bring others as I fold and accumulate things in the donation bags as well as the money it’ll bring the thrift store and their charities. A few things had a random pull or hole or stain and went into the circular file/garbage.  I also have found some sweaters and dresses I forgot all about and haven’t worn in a few years, so they feel new to me and ready for another season of enjoyment. I call the latter “shopping in my own closet,” and it’s a great way to save money and time.

The process of sorting is, much like the rest of life, figuring out what is essential—what lights us up inside—and what we’re tired of and ready to change or switch out for a while.

I’ve also been reading a new book about sketching and so my mind is in the mood for seeing older or ordinary things with fresh eyes, like the beautiful shape of the dish-liquid bottle. Suddenly, walking into the room, I saw the bottle outline anew and took a half-hour break to break out my new watercolor pencils that I’ve had in my tote bag of art supplies for almost three months but not used before now. I’ve used dish soap since I was a kid and literally never thought about the shape of the bottle until drawing this sketch.  My hand-drawn bottle shape turned out a bit different (read: uneven) than the uniformly graceful curve of the original bottle, but there’s authenticity in that, so instead of scrapping it, I ran with it.

Also, the word “indispensable” is one that makes me sweat before I write or type it, because I’ve misspelled it for years. I looked it up about five times before doodling it with the marker and misspelled it when I first typed this paragraph. It’s a tricky word, with several different vowels and the –able ending instead of the –ible. My brain wants to insist it’s an –ible. I have to slow down or doublecheck. Much like the process of sorting, it has something to show me, something worthwhile I get to learn again and again at my own pace and little by little, like most worthwhile things.

So, I almost chose another word for my sketch, but then I pushed through it (and checked it a few more times, just in case), using the word after all. Sometimes, it’s worth persevering, and other times, not so much and it’s okay to sort it out and do something else. You’ll know as you go; do what works best for you in your art and in your life.    

To 2023! 🎉

I bought this fanciful party horn at a greeting-card store and have lost track of when.

Doodle by yours truly. Mechanical pencil, Paper Mate Flair Medium and Arteza Bold 1.0 mm pens, and sketchbook paper. Digital filter used in larger version seen below.

It doesn’t have a year on it and the store is now out of business. It has golden paper that shimmers and a fluffy frill of ebony feathers that I think gets prettier with time.

It’s a little crooked (in real life and in my drawing) but holds a lot of hope and cheer.

Each time this calendar year we get to start over, to reset, to look ahead in art and in life, and that feels fitting and good. Thanks for all of your camaraderie and support.

Here we go, 2023! To all that we’ll create and experience in the year ahead!

"Take a Break" Word-Art Doodle ✍️

I haven’t shared one of my doodles in a while, and this rushed season seemed like the perfect time to post this one.

Whether it’s a fifteen-minute tea or coffee break; an hour with a book; a week off from work; or an afternoon of baking, or streaming movies, or catching a nap, or writing, I hope you also put a thing (or ten) on pause to savor a little break. You deserve it!

Here’s my initial doodle (using pencil and fine-line black pen) from my sketch pad. Yep, I also used crayons on this one. You’ll notice some pencil marks here and there that I didn’t erase well enough (oopsy!) and that the curve of my T and my second line’s k got some extra ink that was inadvertent. Handmade things are perfectly imperfect this way. 😁

Then, I scanned the initial doodle, cropped it, and experimented with adding filters for the background and the doodle itself.

New Month, New Projects Popping ⏲️

Hello, September!

I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately: how we organize it, how we anticipate or dread it, how we save it through the things we make and the things we share, how it is ever-malleable—both jet-speed propulsion and gelatin slow and everything in-between.

So, I made this thematic pen-and-ink drawing. Writing the interconnected and interrupted “ticks” was relaxing. There’s something very meditative about making something by hand, even something imperfect, as this doodle most certainly is. 😁

Also, my new class about writing historical fiction and time-travel stories, Leaping Worlds, is accepting registrations and will start Friday, September 30th. Can’t wait! Clicky above for more deets. I’d love to work with you and a friend. 📝