On Drawing Feelings
October 09, 2026
As I shared here, drawing feelings happened unexpectedly and through a writing e-ink device that was simply siting on my lap. It felft almost accidental.
Each week, I began to follow Shereen Abdul-Baki's feeling prompts. Besides black and white, I had exactly 7 colours that were unblendable and 8 tools, most of which devised purely for writing.
But the device's restrictive drawing ability brought simplicity. A perfect way to start.
Back I went each night to my drawings. And to my feelings.
Each time, this process unfolded into unanticipated surprises. I drew and still tend to draw at night because this is when the world goes quiet and I can better listen.
The process became both about (re)discovering how I draw, as well as how I feel.
Something interesting happens when you give shape to your feelings: you start to own them, and to dis-identify. A curious pair.
Further, you even begin to find them endearing, the 'good,' the 'bad,' and the 'neutral,' all part of your experience.
They become trusting companions and the murmurs of easily bypassed inner feedback.
I have had moments of gleeful laughter when drawing my most wild and difficult emotions, moments of insight, awe and revelation, and a fundamentally enhanced sense of wholeness.
Even though I had no agenda apart from 'playing' and following the whisper of curiosity that keeps nudging me each night, drawing my feelings has helped me to understand myself better. It has helped me find even some of my (very!) tumultuous inner storms charming.
Because once I began to step out of my usual bubble of thinking to give form and colour to what was inside, that inside was not so "bad" and inscrutable after all. It had colour, shape, texture, nuance, quirkiness - humanity.
For now, I will keep drawing. Each time I draw I put on my explorer cap and binoculars, and I ask: "now, what new adventure are we up to today?..."
