Doodles, Wasted Hours Stretching

What is it that so fascinates up about faces? Even before we can talk, we seek out our mothers' faces, recognize our fathers, are drawn to the eyes and various expressions people wear. Social scientists and psychologists have studied this fascination with faces for decades. Darwin even wrote a book about it. (The Expression of Emotion in Man and Animals.)

Over the course of a lifetime I've observed it as a recurring theme in my doodles and drawings. What fascinates me when drawing lines on paper is how even with a minimal amount of detail one can create such a range of expressions. 

Last night I was looking through my old journals and came across a few sketchbooks as well. Here are some of the drawings I found there. 

When I think of doodling, this poem from 1983 comes to mind. Susie and I had gone to a cabin in Portage, Wisconsin for a week. It was a time of soul searching with regards to my future. During that week I had something of an epiphany at dusk during a lightning storm and heavy rain, and felt a sense of calling to be a writer. What follows is a poem I wrote early one morning during that week. The poem always brings to mind this critical moment in which my life took on a new direction with definite purposefulness.

* * * 

Wisconsin Misty Morning

Wisconsin misty morning come

redeem me from this drifting

like the fog that here is lifting

in the blazing light of day.

Captivated by this wonder

song of silence, stillness thunders

to awaken life within me

streaming passion golden ray.

Doodles, wasted hours spending

drafting nonsense, making etchings

with the timeless vacant stretching

of the spaces in between.

Mindless wandering and gazing

useless energy dispelling,

with no story worth the telling

and my mood turned blue from green. 

Portage, Wisconsin 1983