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 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! 🤣

"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 Word-Art Drawings ✒️

I have a penchant for doodling everyday things. Things people kind of hurry past. Things that are utilitarian but that are integral and, well, handy.

I bought these scissors before Christmas a few years ago at a discount store; they were around $3. I stood before the display for way too long, comparing and contrasting the red-and-white chevron pairs to the green-and-white chevron pairs. In the end, green won out by a slim margin. Like my ‘90s film cameras, they have a nice heft to them and are neither too clunky nor too crowded in my grip. I most often use them for cutting the little shipping label before sending away my film to be developed. Now and again, I pull them from the drawer and find a little something that just has to be trimmed for the satisfaction of using them.

I picked this daisy dress online during the first months of Covid, during quarantine. I noticed it because I wanted the happiest possible design I could find. It’s a Kelly green with white daisies with yellow centers. The last time I had a dress with daisies on it, I was 22 and getting ready to walk across a graduation platform. That dress was black-and-white checked and mostly covered with my graduation gown. This dress I put on during days when it’s gray as a crayon and raining. Or days when I want a spring in my step. Or just days where the green pops out at me as I stand before my closet. Green has always felt a color of calm strength, renewal, and hope to me. There needs to be very little reason for a daisy pattern. This is the first time I’ve drawn a hanger or the drape of this dress. I got the proportions of the sleeves a little too long, but the daisy chain on my joy’s -y was a spark of last-minute inspiration and great fun.

For more versions of these drawings, check out my Instagram page: https://www.instagram.com/writepath99/ .