When the world wears us down with yakety-yak, turnÂing off the tv is only part of the soluÂtion. Quieting a mind with no disÂcernible on/off butÂton is trickÂiÂer, a triÂal-and-error affair with no guarantees.
Where and how we seek sancÂtuÂary — and sanÂiÂty — varies. Me, I retreat to my art room, where I can dooÂdle and dream myself back from the brink. Words can be so exhaustÂing, and please don’t get me startÂed on senÂtences, comÂplete or otherwise.
Doodling, in conÂtrast, is effortÂless and restoraÂtive when underÂtakÂen unselfÂconÂsciousÂly. Shelving our grownup egos and shushÂing our inner critÂics can feel imposÂsiÂble, not to menÂtion childÂish and irreÂsponÂsiÂble, when there is so much to do. But is there realÂly that much to do? Maybe. Maybe not. Politicians aren’t the only ones who lie to us.
Inspired by my backÂyard, this dooÂdle feaÂtures some of the neighÂborÂhood regÂuÂlars who speak mainÂly through their actions, vocalÂizÂing only when they have someÂthing imporÂtant to say. How refreshÂing is that?
