noun: a rough drawing made absentmindedly
verb: to scribble absentmindedly


Let me start by saying I wish I could be a professional doodler.  I love to doodle, but I can’t. Truthfully, I can’t draw anything (my students make fun of me when I  draw stick figures on the board).  Anytime, I go to a meeting where I have to take notes, I spend most of my time doodling and wishing I had doodle skills.  By the end of most note-taking extravaganzas my margins are covered in drawings 

However, nothing that ever makes it on paper is worthy of being considered artistic.  I have two basic go-to doodles: the flower and the heart (see photo). I’m a master at the heart.  I can leave it with a white middle OR I can shade it in lightly with my writing utensil.  Is that good or what?  My flower repertoire is pretty much the same.  Would you like your flowers to be shaded or unshaded?


Several of my friends are master doodlers.  Most everything they put on the margins of their notepads could be considered artwork.  I envy them, which is why I won’t sit by them during a meeting.  I get distracted by my jealousy and swear to never draw another heart or flower again. 


Why I want doodling abilities so badly is a mystery. It’s not like doodling is an Olympic sport or something; I don’t want to show off my abilities to anyone.  I simply want to be good at it so I can entertain myself during lulled moments of a meeting.  Apparently the journal of Applied Cognitive Psychology agrees with me. A small study completed by the journal suggests that while many of us assume doodling reveals a certain inattentiveness, it may in fact help us focus when confronted with boring tasks. 


I agree, but in order to alleviate my boredom, my doodling skills need to improve.  Surely there’s a “Doodling for Idiots” book out there somewhere.