A Doodler’s Confession

By Dianne Danquah 

My teachers always told me not to draw in my school books.

Why?

As if my small artwork would cause distraction from the words or numbers on the page.

As if it was incongruent to it or diminished the value.

What if it made it more alive?

What if the words wanted to hang from the tree drawn by the margins of the page?

What if number 9 wanted to hide under the skyline of apartments I had drawn at the bottom of the page, thinking it was a square root?

According to the dictionary, the action of ‘doodling’ refers to drawing or scribbling idly, a “foolish activity”.

Is letting your imagination roam freely a foolish act?

Is it foolish to let your pen be guided by your hand and then surprise you with the outcome at the end?

Then so be it.

Doodling is often a subconscious act. I have never thought about doing it or the fact I did it until now.

This caused me to back track and look at all the pieces of paper I had written on at work.

Every paper had a doodle. Some were scribbles. To me, that was comforting. Comforting because I am consistent in my practice.

My practice, to keep my pages alive, and not leave the words lonely.

Long live the doodlers.