Doodles

I am a doodler. And while talking on the phone the other day, I doodled on the yellow legal pad sitting beside the kitchen phone. The next day my wife wrote “Nice doodle,” with an arrow pointing at my squiggles. Which got me thinking about doodles. What about a book of doodles? Does one already exist? I’ll have to check on that.

In the meantime I’m currently listening to an audiobook in my car, Resurrection Men, by Ian Rankin. At one point, Siobahn Clarke, one of the main characters, sits down at her desk:

Her notepad was a mass of doodles and squiggles, some in blue ink, some in black, not all of them hers. She knew she drew little tornadoes when she was on the phone. And cubes sometimes. And rectangles that looked like Union Jacks. One of the designs belonged to ‘Hi-Ho’ Silvers: arrows and cacti were his specialties. Some people never doodled. She couldn’t remember Rebus ever doing it, or Derek Linford. It was as if they might give too much away. She wondered what her own graffiti would reveal to an expert. The tornado could be her way of giving some shape to the chaos of an investigation. The cubes and flags? Same thing, more or less. Arrows and cacti she wasn’t so sure about…

This got me thinking about my own doodles and what they ‘might reveal to an expert.’ Here’s a representative doodle. DoodleAt this expert’s site, Anna Koren tells us what various doodles mean about the author. Bars, #18 on her list, seem to be what my doodles are comprised of mostly. And what do doodles of bars mean? “A sense of suffocation, a need to escape, a desire for freedom, a feeling that his actions are restricted.” Yikes! That’s scary.

I had been thinking about starting my own blog for a while. That little episode with my doodles is what pushed me to start posting.

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