I hope everyone loves the word doodle because I'll be using it over and over in this post. I undertook some research and didn't find oodles of words that end in oodle (phonetically speaking): poodle, noodle, frugal, google, bamboozle, feudal, kit & caboodle, strudel, boodle.  

I like the word fungal but it doesn't rhyme.

In my previous post on doodles, I mentioned that absentminded sketches help me think creatively. They visually record telephone conversations or other snippets of my subversive  mind. 

I keep many of my doodles. Little slips of paper appear anywhere and everywhere; deep in a shoe bag, at the bottom of my purse, under the car seat, in my cheque book, or interspersed among important papers at work. 

Several of my paintings have begun with a few lines. A quick, amusing drawing (frequently ironic or satirical) can get me going. 

I decide to scan this particular doodle to see where it will take me.

The notepad I have drawn on has blue flowers permanently printed in two opposing corners. I assume the they are there to make the pad appear more feminine (cringe). I pretend they aren't there and let my pen go with the flow.

I realize that I must have dropped something on the drawing, tea or other brown liquid because there is a stain on the paper, which affects my thoughts and perceptions. 

This poor bloke looks emaciated and hard done by. A cigarette hangs from his mouth.

Using Photoshop, I add a bit of colour here and there to emphasize the shape of his undernourished body. His face becomes somewhat red, (perhaps he's a drinker and would rather ingest firewater than eat). 

Initial modifications are done with the mouse but eventually I switch to my digital tablet for fine tuning.  A few tiny red lines add bloodshot to his eyes.

I imagine him standing in the darkness of a cheap, smelly room peering through a window that is dusted with grime and smoke. 

Straight pink lines suggest a door that I eventually distort to reflect his ruminations. The flowers seem misplaced, yet not. He appreciates beauty but is incapable of holding onto it. 

How many souls have I seen staring at a sun that longs to penetrate dirty panes of glass? Way too many.

 "C'mon Diane, it's only a doodle..."
"Yes, and my mind is free to wander."