There is really nothing more I can say about this than it is truly just a doodle on a notepad while I was on the phone. The more I do this though, the more ideas I get for larger work.
you know who's a really super cute superhero ? Supergirl . okay, honestly, I don't know much about her, but... yeah, me and my friends made a parody comic series off of her, see link for more ! https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/american-maiden-/list?title_no=589911
I am an art teacher with a master’s degree—trained by brilliant professors who believed that art could do more than decorate walls. I offer safe spaces for teenagers to grow—nourishing soil where their imaginations can take root.
And yet… I am assigned to hallway duty.
This is compulsory education, after all.
So I sit—posted like a sentinel—watching young lives stream past.
“Get to class,” I say with a smile and a nudge.
The system wants attendance; I’m hungry for presence.
Armed not with a whistle or clipboard, but with a pen—
my scribble’s soft insurgency.
The hallway stretches out like a geometric hymn.
Columns and corners chant structure.
Teenagers swirl past—half-formed galaxies of limbs and laughter—
their orbits chaotic, their gravity pulling time forward.
I begin to draw.
Not their tardiness, but their motion.
A shoulder. A blur of sneakers.
A tilted head chasing freedom.
Feet flickering like seconds.
Each mark a pulse.
Each smudge a breath.
My paper becomes a seismograph of seeing—
trembling gently through the mundane.
This isn’t about making art for a frame or a feed.
It’s about refusing to leak away in the fluorescent hum of obligation.
It’s a quiet mutiny against the clock.
I do this on long car rides, too (passenger side, mind you).
Letting the lines grow wild, jagged, and unapologetic.
Not for polish—
but for presence.
This is how I remember I’m still alive.
Still growing.
Still watching.
Still choosing to see.
Because sometimes mental health looks like
a piece of scrap paper,
a moving pen,
and the simple, sacred act of
marking time with wonder.
“By all means grow old, but don’t mature. Remain childlike, retain wonder, the ability to be flabbergasted by something.” - Billy Connolly.
Happy new year Doodle addicts!
I’m coming out of another one of those periods where I’ve drew or doodled very little (all the other projects on the go until now!), but as always I got my mojo back in the nick of time, it seems. :)
Same old stuff here for now!
I know there’s probably a few decent folks worth voting for come the general election here in Scotland I’ll settle on, though for the most part the loudest mouthpieces seem to just scream ‘bell-end’ to me...
I was playing around with Google Translate and various sentences I’d jotted down, and opted to go with the closest approximation from English into German for ‘I’m voting for Muppets’, which is 'Ich stimme fur Muppets'. ‘Ich stimme’ read to me as ‘itch stim’ for whatever reason (anglophone and neurodivergent here), which seems rather fitting as the thought of the worst candidates getting in is liable to have us all come out in stress rashes, am I right?
