Part 1: A scribble a day keeps the muse in play

That little bit of wisdom up there is the essence of this post. In fact, it says it all and I don’t really have to say any more—

Except, of course, I will. Because I’m rather fond of the written word—which, when you think about it, is nothing more than a whole lot of lines & scribbles mushed together, agreed upon by who-knows-who, who-knows-when, just to convey meaning.

And I’m equally fond of mark making—the art world’s way of saying “scribbling.” The very first thing I do when faced with a blank canvas or fresh sheet of paper is grab whatever tool is handy—charcoal, graphite, crayons whatever and attack the surface with no plan, no purpose. Just marks.

Thin lines slice over thick ones. Black and white mingle with color. Crayons peek through layers of paint because sometimes I just paint over everything. It’s all part of the process.

There are a couple of reasons why this is so satisfying. The first—and probably most important—is that it takes away the preciousness of the clean new surface. Once I’ve scribbled on it, I’m no longer afraid of messing it up. I already did.

The second reason? It’s fun. Pure, physical fun. On a large canvas, it’s incredibly freeing.

Here’s a short video I made of one of the large ones, 48x 72. You may have seen it on social media.

I don’t have a studio right now so I’m currently  working on an iPad. No sweeping gestures across a canvas, but the creative flow is the same—layer by layer, mark by mark.

And I get to do it on the sofa with the  goodest dog ever warming my feet. Do you sense a theme here? I loves me my scribbles. And I loves me some blue.

Part 2: Calm begins in chaos

Mark making is the backbone of expressive art. Every line, scratch, and scribble—pure language. Yours.

Here’s a secret: even my calmest paintings—the ones that whisper serenity from across the room, the ones people bliss out and meditate in front of—even those start this way. They begin in a tangle of scribbles and scratches, marks that look anything but calm. And then they get covered over slowly, layer by layer. By the time the piece is finished you may see only hints of them in the finished piece but they’re there adding energy and history beneath the surface.

Mark making builds your creative vocabulary—sometimes poetry, sometimes muttering, ALWAYS yours. Every scratch and scribble is a fingerprint no one else can copy. That’s your voice.

Part 3: Your turn

This week’s creative prompt: Scribble like you mean it. Don’t aim for pretty. Don’t aim for finished. Just cover the page in wild, unapologetic marks and see what stories your hand wants to tell. Fill the page with lines. Make dots till you’re dizzy. Switch tools mid-stream. Go non-dominant. Blind scribbles.

The goal here isn’t a finished piece—it’s to break the ice with the blank page, to loosen up, to play. Think of it as a warm-up, like stretching before a workout. Only here, you’re stretching your creative muscles and telling your inner perfectionist to take a hike.

Remember my motto? A scribble a day keeps the Muse in play. Treat it like daily vitamins for your creativity.

So scribble it out.

‘Til next week–