Through the years, my mind has often wandered, drifting between tasks, while my hand instinctively reached for a pencil. Without thinking, I’d begin doodling—simple, absent-minded lines and shapes—as I went about doing something else. The pencil became a quiet outlet for my thoughts, capturing the fragments of ideas that passed through my mind while my focus was elsewhere. In those spontaneous doodles, my mind found a way to release itself, to express what words couldn’t, creating a rhythm between thought and action. It was in those little moments, when my hand moved without intention, that I found clarity and connection to the deeper layers of myself.
