Doodles on Brown Paper, The Value of Not Knowing

Yesterday, I got a new white pen. I used to draw with white pens all the time, but for a number of years, I didn't. Then I wanted to but couldn't find the right kind of pen. I am picky about my stationery supplies.

So when I put the kids down for the night and got ready to relax, I really wanted to try out my new pens. 

However, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I had no idea what I wanted to make. To make matters worse, I had no idea what I should draw on, because, being a white pen, white paper doesn't work.

Then I remembered all the paper bags I'd gotten from the store that day. Ah ha! I said to myself. I love kraft paper, I love white pens. I bet the kraft paper will work with the white pens, and even if it doesn't, no big loss, since it's just paper bags.

So I grabbed myself a pair of scissors and a paper bag and chopped it up into little note-cardy type pieces. Little enough to draw on without feeling like I needed to have a plan.

 Fun.

Yes, it worked. Yes, I gave it a try even though I wasn't sure. Yes I went through almost all of my little scrap papers, trying out the pens and letting myself mess up and figuring out what I wanted to say. Look, I even cut it out with my pinking shears and now how cool does it look?

I always forget to believe. When I sit down with no ideas, with a blank page, with a big project ahead of me that I don't know how to tackle, I forget that this is part of the process and not knowing is important. I forget that it doesn't have to be perfect, in fact, imperfection is often more interesting than something that has been worked into its flawless state. 

I like things a little rough edged. I like the sketch to show. I like the asymmetrical and the wonky. I like to see the touch of the hand and the mistakes we make because we are trying things out and discovering where to go. 

This post here is just doodles, really. Practice sketches, a try out. The little papers are wrinkled brown paper bags and my lettering is crooked. 

But I believe in it anyway. 

Looky here.

I didn't have idea one of what I was doing when I first started doodling and sketching on recycled paper.

But there is something lovely here. There is something to be learned.

I don't know the answers. And that's fine. I can get far by just believing that I am enough, that my thoughts are enough, that even my mistakes and drafts have value.

That is a huge yes. Yes to me. Yes to you. Yes to life, in all its imperfect, messy process.