I like to doodle. With an extra fine black pen on a piece of ordinary white paper.
The black ink is so stark, yet so controlled, so elegant because the line is so finely precise.
Doodling is one of earliest ways I remember to cope with frustration, with worry, with stress. It relaxes me.
There’s something about setting pen to paper that feels like raw creativity, pure play – no agenda – no picture in mind – just giving myself over to the moment.
Parallel lines always look great, especially when closely spaced. Wavy parallel lines are particularly hypnotic. They make you think of hair, or ocean waves, or tree limbs.
I also like to doodle a never-ending vine with little rose buds. The vine keeps splitting off other pieces of vine – curlicue upon curlicue. It’s like drawing a dance or drawing poetry.
I sometimes like to doodle little tear-drop leaves, many, many – each turned a little differently. After a while they start to flow like many sparrows in a flock. A few lines here and there, and it looks like a tree branch in summer.
There is great joy in seeing what emerges, always.
In a very real sense, I am doing automatic drawing, letting God direct my hand moment to moment, a comforting and soothing reflection, of joy in the living moment.
Perhaps you would like to doodle a little right now and see how it feels.