Let's Talk about hobbies today .....!
People ask me what my hobby is and I always say the same thing: doodling. It sounds small, maybe even silly. NNo doubt i also lovepainting, masterpieces or learning guitar. But there is one thing that hits different and i never get bored of it....and that is doodling. Little sketches, lines, shapes, faces, random patterns that show up on the corners of my notebooks, on bills, on the back of train tickets. But for me, doodling is not “just” anything. It’s how I breathe.
I didn’t plan for doodling to become my hobby. It just happened. In University.....,5 years of span, when lectures got boring, my pen would start moving on its own. Circles inside circles. Little flowers with five uneven petals. Stick figures doing dramatic things. My teacher once caught me and said, “Pay attention, not doodle.” I nodded, but the moment she turned back, my hand was moving again hahahah...! Dont judge me wrong here.... I think that’s when I realized — doodling isn’t distraction for me. It’s attention in a different form. When I doodle, I’m actually more present, not less.
Lemme share some

This page is my experience drawn in ink. No filter, no explanation....just eyes, because eyes were all I had words for that day.hahah..! Here i remember qoutes;
Its all in the eyes.....
Eyes can never lie....
I started with the top panel when my mind felt split. That “X” between the wide eyes? That’s exactly how I felt, torn, alert, like my brain was cracking open. The diamond pupils weren’t planned. I just kept pressing the pen harder until the shape felt sharp enough to match what was inside me. Those eyes don’t blink. They stare. Because that’s what anxiety does. It watches everything, even when you want to look away.
The middle rows are the calmer part of my experience. The half-closed eyes, the ones resting , that’s me trying to breathe. I shaded them softer, let the lines flow instead of stab. For a few minutes while drawing them, my hand actually slowed down. My heartbeat did too. The side glance next to it is me on normal days...!observing, not speaking much, just taking things in from the corner.
Then the bottom row. That’s the truth I don’t say out loud. The tired, veiny eye is every night I slept 3 hours and woke up exhausted. And the spiral… I drew that spiral until my wrist hurt. I wasn’t thinking about art. I was thinking about overthinking. How one thought pulls in another, and another, until everything spins. I put an eyeball in the center of the spiral because even in chaos, some part of me is still watching, still aware, still trying to hold on.
I used only black pen. No colors, because that day didn’t have color in it. The heavy black borders on the sides? That’s how my thoughts felt — closing in, framing everything. After completing it, all of my feelings changed, i was shocked of my own master piece and i was talking to my self like...wao what have you done bro...hahahaha keep it up
Keep it up.
Over the years, doodling became my quiet corner. Life gets loud. There’s pressure to perform, to plan, to be productive every second. But when I pick up a pen and let it wander on paper, everything slows down. No rules. No grades. No “is this good enough?” The line doesn’t have to be straight. The face doesn’t have to look real. If a cat ends up with three eyes and a crown, that’s fine. It’s my world, and in my world, three-eyed cats can be kings.
What I love most about doodling is that it asks nothing from me. Painting needs colors and space and time. Writing needs words that make sense. But doodling? I just need a pen. Any pen. Even a ballpoint that’s almost out of ink. I can doodle while waiting for tea to boil, during a phone call, while thinking about what to say next. It fits into the gaps of my day. And somehow, those gaps become the best parts of my day. Oh goodness, but painting is also my love, it just now its the time foe doodling..
People sometimes flip through my notebooks and say, “You should do this professionally.” I smile and say no. Because the moment I make doodling my job, I think it will stop being my peace. Right now, it’s free. I don’t draw for likes or orders or deadlines. I draw because my hand misses the pen if I don’t.....I draw because some feelings do not have words, but they do must have shapes. When I’m anxious, my doodles get sharp and spiky. When I’m calm, they get round and flowy. When I’m happy, I fill pages with little sun.s and stars. My notebook is my mood tracker, and I don’t even plan it.
Doodling also made me notice details. Before, I’d walk past walls, tiles, leaves, coffee foam without really seeing them. Now my eyes catch patterns everywhere. The way cracks form on old paint. How bubbles group together in chai. The repeating shape of window grills. My brain became hungry for patterns. And when I see them, I steal them for my doodles. Not to copy, but to remember. Doodling made me a collector of small beauties.
Some of my best ideas came from doodles. I’d be stuck on a problem, and instead of forcing an answer, I’d doodle. Swirls, boxes, arrows going nowhere. And somewhere between those meaningless lines, the answer would show up. Is it silly? Noop not at all ...!
It’s like doodling clears the fog in my head. When my thoughts are messy, putting them on paper as shapes makes space for clarity.I don’t call myself an artist. I’m just someone who loves lines. Straight ones, curvy ones, broken ones. I love filling empty space until it feels full. I love starting a doodle without knowing where it will end. That’s the thrill for me ....not knowing. In a life where I try to plan everything, doodling is the one thing I let be unpredictable.
If you’ve never tried doodling, I’ll tell you a secret: you don’t need talent. You just need permission. Permission to make ugly drawings. Permission to fill margins. Permission to enjoy something that doesn’t earn money or praise. Just permission to play with a pen.
So yes, doodling is my hobby. It’s how I talk when words fail. It’s how I rest when sleep won’t come. It’s how I remember that I’m allowed to create, even if it’s just for me. My notebooks may never go in galleries, and my doodles may never go viral. But they keep me company. They keep me calm. They keep me.And on days when the world feels too heavy, I open a blank page, put pen to paper, and let the lines carry some of that weight. Because if I can turn a blank page into something alive with just ink, maybe I can turn a heavy day into something lighter too. That’s why doodling isn’t just my hobby. It’s my way of staying.
#CrossPost on Blurt
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