I recently read a humorous commentary on the youthful art exploits of someone not quite as old as me. The author was poking fun at one of the first computerized drawing programs available to the public. At a young age, the artist in training scribbled in Microsoft Paint, then used the paint bucket to fill in the scribbles with color.
"We all did it!" the author proclaimed.
My kids did it on a Mac. I never did. Not as a child, anyway.
I chuckled when I read that commentary because the first time I was allowed to scribble and fill in the scribbles with color, there were no computers! I did it with crayons on paper. I sometimes even did it on the wall or on the furniture. Yes, in fact, I did. I even color-coded Grandma's ivory piano keys with felt tip pens so I could remember where to put my fingers when playing my favorite song, "Bibbity Bobbity Boo" from Cinderella, or some such catchy little age-appropriate ditty.
Oh, how I loved the brilliant colors of felt tip pens. And this was back when felt tip pens rarely came in packages of more than six or twelve. I'd have been in heaven with the awesome 48-color sets available now!
The Lizard doodles just like I used to!
As a teen, I loved to doodle with felt tip pens. The pens moved so smoothly. I would draw a little scribble with one color, then change to another color and outline my little scribble, then change to another color and outline the outline... I'd keep going until I filled the paper with a rainbow of pen lines.
Maybe that's why I am so attracted to Hawaiian quilting.
I also liked to draw thick and hard on top of the clear plastic crayon box (I don't remember seeing gigantic boxes of 64 dreamy colors until I was a teenager, and I likely would have gone into color overload if the monster boxes had been available way back then, too), then cover my drawing with glue, which I would peel from the plastic after it dried and hang in the window to let the sun come through the pretty pastel colors.
And that's how a future snowflake designer became hopelessly addicted to prismatic danglies.
Now I've taken to drawing with my sewing machine. In some ways, free-motion quilting feels a bit like the scribbles I used to do as a child. Reminiscing of my youthful art exploits brings back warm memories. Today's scribbling literally has the power to warm!