No Worries, Everything’s Okay Here! I’m doing Just Great! (Twitch, Twitch, Giggle)

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sketchbook

But my noodle is full of doodles!

Being and Nuttiness

Origami boats and hats

And frogs and swans

And paper cats

And chicken frills

And snowflake cuts:

These little pieces

Drive me nuts—

It’s not the cut-

And-paste, you see,

That makes me

Shake the acorn tree;

It’s just that

They should

Have the guts,

Barefaced, to call it

Therapy.

sketchbook

I mean, oodles of doodles!

 

Going Buggy

I wouldn’t say it bugs me

All that much to be indoors,

For after all my place is not

Much awfuller than yours,

Both having small enclosures and

These windows that won’t open,

And both beset with folks who have

Rude ways of interlopin’

Whenever you might think you’ve got

A chance to set things right

By putting forward fine ideas

Or going home at night,

But if it comes right down to choose,

I guess I’ll stick right here—

My rubber room; your office—

‘Least I’ll get reprieved next year.

38 thoughts on “No Worries, Everything’s Okay Here! I’m doing Just Great! (Twitch, Twitch, Giggle)”

  2. I have found that pencil and paper are exactly that: therapy. Losing myself in the creation and taking myself from interlopin’ thoughts and worries. Like chocolate, it is a wonderful medicine! Between you and our dear Year Stricken, I have enough positive vibes to get through the whole night!

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    • It’s a compilation of scribbles from various sketchbooks, tissues, envelopes and whatnot–probably took ten times as long to digitally edit them together and clean all the dust and stuff off of them as it took to draw them in the first place. Oh, the irony. I guess tedious cleaning duty is a certain kind of therapy in its own way too! 😉

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  4. your oodles and your doodles sing
    those songs that can’t be sung
    their eyes and ears are listening
    for clues they will be sprung
    breaking free from one dimension
    where they come to life each day
    jumping off the page in unison
    where they leap about and play

    if ever you should find yourself
    without a pen to sketch
    please summon forth your inner elf
    and allow yourself to stretch
    let all of them begin to dance
    if only in your head
    ask yourself to take a chance
    or your doodles will be dead

    they all must live in harmony
    and share each others space
    every doodle in the symphony
    as around the page they chase
    the cacophony of music plays
    as you sketch this way and that
    and the oodles of your doodles
    they will swish, and swirl, and sway

    the next time that your pen gets weary
    don’t forget to set them free
    or your doodles might get teary
    and your oodles, they may flee
    a life without the oodles
    or the doodles and the song
    would hurt you precious noodle
    and then life would fit all wrong

    —
    —

    Okay, I can’t believe you made me do this … again … that’s twice in one week … first a limerick the other day while I was visiting someone else, and now here I am, in your neighborhood, playing with oodles and doodles that fascinate and delight me. I loved the origami therapy reference … since I better stay away from scissors today (just teasing), I figured I would just have to play with the words. Thanks for the free therapy. 🙂

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    • by the way, I’m pretty sure you should
      get some kind of award for this one:

      For after all my place is not

      Much awfuller than yours,

      big smile! looooove it !!

      Reply ↓

      • Honeychile, you made *me* grin from ear to ear! Great poem, and I know you know both the usefulness and silliness that can happen in therapy (professional *and* homegrown!) just as I do!! So take whatever you can use from this ridiculous heap and enjoy. 😀

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    • When I show sketchbook scribblings like this I almost feel like I’ve gone public in my underwear (oops!), but I feel I’m in safe company that won’t be too hard on me if I’m not always putting out things I think I’ve polished. Thanks for cheering me on, Raymund!

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  11. I think that Jean Paul Sartre would approve very much of poem number one. C’est tres amusant. I love all the doodles especially the lady at her typewriter, on the bottom line in the first set.

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    • I think she has my hairstyle, too! As for M. Sartre, I hope he’s the forgiving sort, but then trying to read serious philosophy has often brought on these very bouts of nuttiness, so he’s partly to blame. 🙂

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  12. Oh… they’re “oodles” now, I love that… I love your sketchings and rhymings and everything about this post today… I just feel so happy when I come to your blog:) If I’m not here every day, it’s because I’m back working again… so things have to “give” a little in the blogging world. But I truly love every moment when I get to visit here:) xo Smidge

    Reply ↓

    • Come to think of it, “oodles” happens to be one of those few words that by its very meaning helps me to understand why there can’t be only one Oodle. Would that all fine words were so self-explanatory.

      Happy working, and I’ll be thrilled to see you here, there or anywhere when you get a break. Meanwhile, sending oodles of hugs!

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    • I believe the proper retort from me is: “If you have to ask, then you really don’t want to know.” 😉 But from anyone who claims to love the art, that’s clearly gotta be a rhetorical Q!

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      • What we have here is a lost in translation moment. My “question” comes from a Dr. Demento skit and that right there should tell you what was going on around the question. I believe it was from a parody of the original Star Trek where Spock got into an argument with the computer who would only answer “I’m fine, how are you?” every time you asked it something.
        Proud member of the bead aint quite centered club here 🙂

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    • Though you flatter, it makes me gladder
      than I should mention; it’s my intention
      to keep on writin’–don’t let me frighten
      you from this hangout with what I bang out!
      Type-type-typetty-type-type-type . . .

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  16. Love the doodles! Mine would remind you of a Jackson Pollock, but without the talent. As for the verse, I’ve had my fill of office space and will take the rubber room any day.

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  17. You ask me what I see in the Rorschach ink blots of the first poem – I see some people of course. One seems to have a split personality. Another suffers from depression. Another obviously is a schizophrenic. But there’s nothing wrong with me! I’ve been fine since I got out of that institution. THAT is what was driving me crazy. I’m fine now, just fine. Just ask me.

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