How I Became a Doodle Daughter
I keep chuckling to myself, remembering how I became a doodle daughter. That isn’t necessarily something I have considered until today, this hand-me-down gift from my mother.
My subject is Art Journaling and specifically doodling. I have been journaling since I was in 7th grade, consistently, and doodling even longer.
Doodling is one of those things I feel like I inherited from my mother. I remember her sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen. It was layered with years of contact paper. She would talk to her best friend every day while something was simmering on the stove. As the stories spun out between them, my mother’s hands coiled and dotted corners of mail or note pads. I sat on the other side of the bar, watching….mesmerized.
I never took art as a youngster. Drawing didn’t come naturally to me like it did her or my brother. But I would sit and draw with them on still Saturday mornings at Lake Mathis, feeling like I was part of their special club. Those were the roots of how I became a doodle daughter. Some of my fondest memories.
Over the years, I have used little memories like that as a kind of creative communion between me and Mom. Somehow I can know her better when I am in the rhythm of pen rolling across page.
Doodling can be an escape-from and a returning-to all at the same time! What better way to celebrate getting away from it all and connecting more deeply with the essence of Self than to revisit that family tradition…..to honor how I became a doodle daughter!
Did my mother ever imagine she would be teaching me to bless my life with the dance of her ball point pen? Probably not. She was just doing her thing. But the truth is, whenever we share our creativity with another, we are giving them permission to share a bit of their vulnerability with us…..with the world! That is a huge gift.
So I am off to Lake Trinity, about 6 hours North of that little lake where I first enjoyed my doodle tutelage. I am eager to connect with her there in my heart….between the lines, dots, dashes, and swirls.
Here is to my mom….and the legacy of play and expression she left to me. It is my honor to share that with the women of the Spirit, Mind and Body Women’s Retreat this weekend!