Simply Sunday - Fun with Fortune Tellers

Gratitudes, looking for balance, fortune tellers (or “cootie catchers”), Doodlebug, and the catch-all illustrated journal. Plus sketchnote of Episode 305.

Aug 13, 2023

Were there glimmers this week? Were there moments of serendipity or synchronicity? Were there moments of gratitude? Were there frustrations? Were there disappointments? Were there problems?

Probably, there was a mix, a balance. Maybe the scales tipped one way or the other. Unfortunately, what we choose to see, what we focus on, what gets stuck in our head, an ear worm on repeat, often hangs on the negative. When we can line things up, the good and the bad, and see them together, it is sometimes easier to appreciate the whole, sometimes easier to really see the little shards of light.

It isn’t just gloss to say make sure you are noting the good things. Make sure you are open to the possibility that there are some good things drifting through. (Statistically, there probably are.) Make sure you are looking. It isn’t an attempt to sweep everything else under the rug. Instead, it’s a reminder. Sometimes we get so caught up that we just can’t see the good things that are happening in and around whatever else is going on. Look for the good things. Write them down. Make a note in your calendar or in your journal. It’s okay if those things are small. It’s okay if they are fragments that unexpectedly slide into view while you are going about your day. It’s okay if they aren’t things others might notice. Your appreciation doesn’t need to match anyone else’s. Make sure you are stopping to take a breath and acknowledge what is good.

When I decided last weekend to push the clowns to the side and talk about the Inchie Challenge and mark making instead, it was partly with the intention of "lighter lift," a phrase I saw recently in a Substack “office hours” post. I thought it was an odd phrase, but the sentiment, at least the way I interpret it, stayed with me. Sometimes we need to shift to something easier or faster or different that can still meet the schedule but also create a bit of breathing room, open up an hour. Some ideas need time and space to simmer and time and space to weave and wind and intertwine. Writing from the edges, living and making art in the little slivers of time on the periphery of my work week, weaving from the margins, I am feeling the pace, and I know I get caught up in the land of diminishing returns as I try to meet my own expectations and standards. These are things we all deal with as we work on our projects. Thinking about the boundaries of diminishing returns and when to stop and how much is enough, it’s important.

I don't know that things came together all that much more quickly last weekend, but it was the first week since I started writing here, six months ago, that I wasn't still reading and re-reading, editing, second-guessing, deleting, arguing with my inner critic, and, ultimately, falling asleep with a device in hand and the editing screen open, before scheduling the post for the wee hours of morning. (I only release this way because I am trying to get the Illustrate Your Week prompts out early on Sunday morning.)

I was grateful that I'd shifted gears last weekend because, late afternoon, I was able to pick up and head to a beach with my oldest. It's a place I haven't been to in at least ten years. It involves a steep climb down, and then a major climb back up. It’s a climb that always worries me a bit (and I really did struggle at points this time). It is the sea glass spot, though, and I was hopeful. Having just written about the lack of glimmers, a little part of me was hoping I might just stumble over something fitting, something serendipitous, a tiny fragment of minty green glass, softened by its journey, proof that I was open and looking. Our timing with the tide was off though, so we didn't catch even a glimpse of glass, but it was nice to have gone, nice to have walked in the wind. There were moments of philosophy that are waiting to be recorded in a few simple panels. I am grateful I made it back to the top. I was glad that a “lighter lift” mindset left me open to saying yes. I was grateful to be present.

Jump to:

Authenticity and Serendipity
Fortune Tellers and Cootie Catchers
Sketchnotes for Episode 305 of the Creativity Matters Podcast (and Doodlebug book)
Without Power

Authenticity and Serendipity

There are a few interesting days on the calendar this week. They don’t feel like days that fit with big things to draw, but I think there is a nice mix of words in the week: creamsicle, lizard, chant, moon, authenticity, lemon meringue pie, calligraphy, serendipity, honey bee. There is something poetic in the simple litany of words. These words have contours and connotations that feel nice, warm, rounded, and somehow comforting. (Maybe lizard is a non-sequitur, but I’m looking forward to drawing a lizard.)

Last week (Week 32), too, had a good mix: sea serpent, lighthouse, tree, afternoon tea, rice pudding, holding hands, gooey butter cake. I always contemplate the words, even if I don’t end up drawing them.

I thought about rice pudding through the years. When I pulled photos from old journals last week to show some random fill-in and mark making examples, I also ran into a two-page recording of the last time I made rice pudding (to check something off a list). Rice pudding stands for something. It was on the list because it holds meaning and connections through time and place in multiple ways. A simple food can do that. On the other hand, I have never had gooey butter cake, but I liked the sound of it. (I’m not even a cake or sweets person, but somehow, it sounded good, and when I Googled it, it looked good.)

Aside: It’s funny to share this, really. This documentation was part of my 50 Before 50 List and the illustrated journal that went along with it. These are really loosely drawn in, but they tell the story. Admittedly, the drawing is a bit embarrassing. I’m going to ignore that. It’s the equivalent of a messy set of notes. I don’t plan to redo things like this, but I would like to shift back into the habit of recording moments and tiny stories this way. Making rice pudding was on the list, and I tackled it in 2020, in the final months of the year-long project. The results were funny. I’m glad I have this quickly captured story now. It makes me laugh. (It’s very me. And it was very me during the pandemic. And it was very true to trying to see the 50 Before 50 list through in that span of time.)

A rice pudding moment from a 2020 journal.

This week, authenticity jumps out at me, not only because it’s important to me, probably too much so, but also because it reminds me of reading The Authenticity Project (Clare Pooley) last year with a small group of people. It’s not the best book ever, but the writing of something vulnerable and true and then leaving the notebook for someone else to find and add to was a fascinating concept. And, of course, it brings together a group of people in a feel-good way that momentarily gives people like me hope for the world. I doubt I’ll draw anything related to the authenticity (although my portrait will probably speak to it), but words about authenticity will surely find space on the page. Serendipity is also a word I love. Who doesn’t love a good whiff of the universe speaking, right? It’s a hard word to use as a prompt though because you can’t simply will serendipity into being. Serendipity happens when you are looking the other way or for something else. Ultimately, I like simply having the words in mind this week. The words always give a bit of texture and context, a bit of background music, to the week when I sit down at night to write or draw in my sketchbook.

Fortune Tellers and Cootie Catchers

What did make it to the prompt list is something totally random: fortune teller. I’ve been working on a sketch note of an old episode of the Creativity Matters Podcast. It’s an episode mostly about a YA book called Doodlebug (by Karen Romano Young). It’s a book I love because it’s an awesome combination of text and simple illustration. It’s a beautiful and fun example of a sketchnote diary, visual journal, or illustrated journal. It isn’t simply a hybrid book, a combination of drawing and text for reluctant readers (a la Diary of a Wimpy Kid or Big Nate). It is also a book “about” doodling and about doodling as an important coping and focusing mechanism for the title character.

I ran into the book somewhere in the time when I was discovering sketchnoting and looking at that as a way to combine my interest in graphic novels, sketching, and journaling into a loose, illustrated, visual format. Doodlebug was, unexpectedly, a wonderful example. Since I was doing the sketchnote, I checked it out to look through it again and to read the sequel, Stuck in the Middle (Of Middle School): A Novel in Doodles. The format is surprisingly dense, and I’ve been slow to get through them. I haven’t read the sequel yet, but I did reread book one, and I was every bit as enchanted this time with Doodlebug as I was when I recorded Episode 305 in 2018.

When Dodo (a.k.a. Doodlebug) meets people at her new school, she announces herself as Doodlebug, and her talents are immediately put to use filling in the paper panels of an old-fashioned “cootie catcher” (or fortune teller).

How long has it been since you made a fortune teller?

The simple folded paper (origami) device is one of those strange things that is whimsical and fun and yet totally silly at the same time. As soon as you sort out what’s behind each number (or final choice), you’ll remember them. You can’t suddenly pretend not to know that number “3” is the one you want if that already turned up something good. After the first time or two, the element of randomness or surprise is lost. There isn’t a lot of range to this game, really. This is the stuff of childhood, of blacktops and playgrounds, of cafeteria tables. A fortune teller means nothing to my jaded fifty-something self, but for some reason, it stuck in my head this week.

I spent some time looking at samples and directions. There are versions that use the fortune teller structure to make fun characters or animals, like unicorns, dragons, mermaids, and more. (Predictably, there are sellers out there selling the templates you can print and fold.) Those are cute, but they lose the “here is your fortune” element of the original. That’s what a fortune teller is all about.

It’s odd how these things come to mind. I can’t remember when I played with a fortune teller, but I have such a strong sense of them, a strong sense of my fingers in those paper pockets, manipulating the device, counting out the letters as I spelled whatever color was chosen. I wish I could pinpoint that somehow in time.

I drew a Ted Lasso portrait this week to fit a prompt from Week 32. Next to it, I wrote this quote from the show:

“You know what the happiest animal on earth is? It’s a goldfish. You know why? It's got a ten-second memory.” (Ted Lasso)

I love the whimsy of the quote. In the context of the show, it was an empowering statement. Let it go. Forget about it. Move on as if that half of the game didn’t happen.

But me, I can’t help but be left with the poignant knowledge that having no memory doesn’t make you happier.

A lot of things come to mind for a “fortune teller” prompt this week. You could stick with tarot, or think about classic carnival fortune tellers. Maybe the Magic 8 Ball comes to mind. Maybe you remember those tiny colored horoscope scrolls they sold by the checkout at grocery stores forty years ago. (Does anyone remember those?) Did you pore over the horoscope pages in teen magazines as a kid? Or maybe a good old-fashioned cootie catcher is in order. What would go on the flaps?

By the way, one of the artists who draws in my weekly group illustrated a Christmas-themed tarot deck over the last few years. It was wonderful to watch all of the work that went into the process and to get sneak peaks along the way. The deck is finally for sale, and I keep meaning to mention it. This is a good chance because while the fortune teller is feeling a bit silly to me now, I’m finding this summer that I’m drawn a bit and “anew” to the idea of tarot. Somewhere, there is a classic Rider deck floating around. If you are a tarot enthusiast, I hope you’ll take a look at the Yuletide deck, illustrated by Erin O’Leary Brown.

I made a cootie catcher tonight, just for fun. It’s surprisingly easy. As expected, as soon as you put your fingers in it, the motions are automatic. We know this. After I put this email to bed, I’m going to draw out the directions. (I hoped to include it, but today’s timing is a bit off. I still want to draw it, diagram it. I’ll probably do it both digitally and in my journal. Who knows. It’s a bit of practice and a bit of whimsy. Both are good for me.)

So often I find that there are multiple things I would like to dive into for any single prompt. Weeks go too fast. I’m feeling the need to hunker a bit and just settle in with some themes.

Sketchnotes for Episode 305 of the Creativity Matters Podcast

Episode 305 (2018) was mostly about Doodlebug, but there was another book tucked in at the end. I didn’t end up using the space as nicely as I’d like, and I do need to go back in and add pagination and context to the second page. But I’m letting this stand for now and moving on. It was a wonderful opportunity to reacquaint myself with Doodlebug. I had a really funny moment drawing the “seesaw” earlier this week. I cracked myself up with where I started, but that’s part of the fun of this process.

Without Power

Our power has been out for more than 30 hours now as I write this. This is the second outage in a couple of weeks, but this one, scheduled for 8 hours, turned into something quite different. In the process of preparing for and then going through the outage, I realized that this is something that, surprisingly, makes me really anxious. Being disconnected pushes all of my buttons. Worrying about all the food going bad, or even the insulin, puts me on edge. Not having “light” at night is a problem. Not being able to watch the end of my show was an annoyance. Worrying that I didn’t have enough backup battery blocks to get through the extended outage stressed me. Not having coffee landed me with the most incredible lack-of-caffeine headache ever.

There was a lot of pacing. A lot of moving back and forth to the window to look at the slew of vehicles lining the road and, until the middle of the night on day one, a massive utility pole lying on the sidewalk in front of the house. There was a lot of ranting. A lot of worrying. But, there were moments of gratitude. And when, on the unexpected day 2, I found the plastic “pour over” device in the last cabinet I checked and a box with a few coffee filters left in it, we cut open coffee pods and made coffee. (The stovetop is gas.) It was such a simple thing, but it was also perfect. (Sadly, I didn’t even think about this device until it was mentioned to me, and then the search was on, but I’m grateful to have found it and to have been introduced to the ease of a pour-over years ago.)

I also decided that peanut butter, raw oats, honey, and a few chocolate chips stirred together, with or without too-warm yogurt, is a really good and comforting combination. I repeated on day 2, to make sure.

I wrote about other things this week, but in the end, I’m watching my power run out and feeling grateful for the power I’ve had, for the portable keyboard, for the iPad that has become so essential. I am grateful that someone responded to my call for ice. Not “really” being able to work in my sketchbook the first night was really frustrating. It’s a huge part of my day. (We discovered we really have no backup lighting options.) I found batteries for one small flashlight that I dug out of a drawer, replacing the corroded ones (which every flashlight I found had), and I propped that light on my sketchbook and used colored pencil to pencil in a drawing of “holding hands” that I had planned for the week. I didn’t try to ink it. I didn’t try to write my daily notes. I ended up behind in the week since I count on Friday and Saturday for finishing and bringing everything together, but being able to get even that sketch in made me feel better. It was important to me to do that. We managed. We managed the anticipated eight hours with aplomb, but, ultimately, I think we managed the full stretch pretty well. (I’m surprised by how antsy it made me.)

I was still considering a walk to the nearest library to recharge devices, just in case, when the power came on. I’m grateful.

Have a good week ahead and thank you for reading. I do hope you have a balance. I hope you draw something you love or that you feel “better” after drawing at some point this week. I hope you find a corner of your journal to write something honest that’s just for you. Keeping our illustrated journals is a tool we can use to document, to practice, and to cope. It’s easy to get caught up in how awesome these journals can look. But remember, the goal is the tool, the record, the feeling you get when you are able to slow down and focus on the page, and maybe the feeling you get later when you flip through and remember something, like some wonky rice pudding, that you would otherwise have lost to the slippage of days and years.

Remember your why.

Doodlebug’s survival plan for the school year was to doodle.

I get that.

From the Creativity Matters Podcast Vault

Episode 369: Filling Space: using a cast-off ring sizing template to make circles…. and then filling them in.

How About You?

How is your balance going? Comment creamsicle if the glass feels half full or better. Comment pesto if the glass feels half empty or less. Comment grilled cheese if you really prefer to not admit how the glass looks or if you can’t really decide but you like to comment. (There’s room for everyone!)

Illustrate Your Week — Week 33

The new prompts for Week 33 have been posted.