I took another trip to Doodle-ville. I go there often; I think I like it there. It is a preferred place of mine. One should not stay there too long though, because the place next to it Is reality and it is often harsh and dangerous, and if you lose your footing or become too distracted, you will not be able to stand upright in reality, when you try and return. It is pleasant to immerse oneself in Doodle-ville, although sometimes when I go there I am tired, or stressed, or melancholy, I most often visit when I am feeling creative, and if not I will be soon. You cannot make a mistake there; it is filled with Ah! Ha! moments and image discovery delights. The space around you disappears, and conversations slide into room rumbles of nondescript unimportance. Parts and pieces of forgotten treasures become remembered, flash by, and hopes of tomorrow seem more real. Sometimes when a doodle begins to pretend to be art and the ego helps it tell that lie, your visit may be ending. That is not a bad thing because often it is the muse, coming through the misty story door of your mind, that has appeared. Let the doodle tell you that lie, let it pretend to be art, and get out another scrap of paper and continue for as long as the muse lets you. Be patient, remain pleasant, and continue to doodle.
You have to love lines to doodle. Each line, whether by accident or by intent, sloppy or graceful, each line speaks.
Lines say something to everyone, to our memory, or to our viewer guest. Lines are the primary language of all images, and all communications, or record keeping or designs. Lines form the idea maps of our world in every category we know. So a doodle plays with all those things in the eye of a viewer. Each viewer assigning their own idea of what the lines might be speaking, how they are feeling influences what they think they see. Everyone thinking the others see what they see; for the moment, we are all in that moment.
When lines are seen, there is meaning implied even if not understood.
In the absence of lines we impose our own and assign every image we engage, some definable lines. We see a cloud with no lines and we draw lines to describe it. Water has no lines but we use lines of color and light to portray water. Lines, you just have to love lines, and when you do, you doodle them into a world only you understand. When others understand your doodles, they are no longer doodles; they become art. Maybe good art, maybe poor art, but when understood, they are no longer doodles. They are abstractions, or designs, or renderings, maybe even graphics, but not doodles. I leave Doodle-ville at that junction, and often go to the drawing board and begin to make the doodle effort into an art effort, smiling as I know I had the reward and joy of visiting La La Land, even if I only returned with a drawing from it instead of a doodle.
I will try again tomorrow.