I said so a few weeks ago, and I meant it.
Here’s the proof: I’ve been doodling.
See, if you spend any time around me, you’re sure to hear me explain that I’m so verbal (as in not visual) that I see in words, not in images. It’s true.
I wouldn’t tell you so if it were not the truth. So what on earth is driving my recent impulse to doodle? First I wanted to try my hand at pyrography. And then just yesterday, I needed colored pencils. Quick-like.
The coloring urge descended on Monday. My daughter, co-grandma, and I were exploring the art supply store in San Diego and suddenly, I needed to draw.
We had errands to run Monday, and Elaine and Cadence had a plane to catch, so I shook off my craving.
Last night I gave in. I stopped at the store and bought a fresh set of colored pencils. Then I went home, and after dinner, I drew.
I wondered, later, why I’ve felt so–well, drawn–to drawing. Burning designs into poplar or looping out fanciful flowers with a pencil seem like fine ways, all of a sudden, to spend an evening.
When you want to create, you write, I said to myself. What’s up with this drawing fever?
I figured it out last night while I was doodling a stormy-looking background on a corner of the page.
Drawing is play. Don’t misunderstand. I love to write. I don’t know how not to write. But when I sit down to write, decades of expectations watch over my shoulder, pursing their little imaginary lips at me. I want my writing to be good. Worthy.
Sketching, doodling, coloring, drawing, burning patterns into wood: I don’t care about mastering a technique. I don’t intend to become an expert.
Nope. I just want recess. I want to glorify God, not with my skill, but with my joy. And you know, I’m not a fine artist, but I’m a happy one. And, dare I say, a green one.
How do you play?
Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.
1 Corinthians 10:31 (NASB)