A good couple of months ago I was asked to draw anything – as long as it is something – by a person that waltzed into my life. “Draw what you feel.” When you suffer from an I don’t give a shit right now disorder, this seems like an immensely difficult task. Anything? Anything.
One evening I was sitting on the couch in my office feeling overly emotional and stressed out (to be honest, hubby and I had one moer of a fight, but that’s personal) and I decided to test this anything goes thing. After all, I need to check in with this person in a couple of days and I don’t feel like being confronted for not doing what I am told. (As if I don’t follow instructions for a living.)
I took my notebook and grabbed a pen and started doodling. This is what came of it:
She said anything and added: what you feel. So there. Grab yourself a rough visual interpretation of what my mind looks like in five minutes flat.
After uhming and ahming during our next meetup, she asked the inevitable question: So did you draw? I was like, “sure I did”, and presented her with my doodle. I was quite proud of myself for following the instructions step-by-step. And the doodle – to me – was quite an achievement.
I think her lack of comment was a sign of disappointment, but I did not question silence. Finaly she noted: I notice there is no colour in your drawing. And blank lines. I was dumbstruck; I am in the middle of a meltdown and you want me to use colour? I didn’t feel very colourful, nor did I feel like looking for a coloured pen. So there.
One evening not too long after, I desperately needed to look busy. I started by drawing a circle. I scribbled and scribbled and scribbled. Every time I needed to keep my hands busy I would add some additional ink lines to the scribbles. It was only a month or so later – yes, the drawing is worth a month of doodling – that I had an epiphany. It was actually that simple!
Because there is no colour between the lines.
That’s all there is to it.
Yours in colour,