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.
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:
Sketchnotes for Episode 305 of the Creativity Matters Podcast (and Doodlebug book)
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.)
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).