What Can a Scribble Tell You? Emotional Expression Through Scribble Drawing
Scribbling may be one of the simplest forms of creative expression. It requires no artistic skill, special materials, or a carefully planned image. All you need is something to draw with, a piece of paper, and a willingness to let go of the need to make “art.”
This simple intervention has been used by many art therapists. In The Creative Journal, Lucia Capacchione (2015) encourages the reader to take any color and “mess around” (p. 17), without attempting to make art, draw a recognizable picture, or plan a particular design. The invitation is simply to play.
Scribble drawing for emotional expression can offer an accessible outlet for difficult emotions when words feel inadequate—or when we do not yet understand what we are feeling.
Scribble Drawing for Emotional Expression Begins With the Body
Before beginning a scribble drawing, I turn my attention inward and notice the physical sensations I am experiencing. I stay with each sensation and work to identify the emotions connected to it.
For the first scribble shared here, the physical sensation I was experiencing was bubbly. Staying with that sensation of bubbly, I worked to identify the emotions connected to it - anxiety and frustration.
I select my materials and, holding one in each hand, close my eyes and begin moving both hands across a large piece of paper (12" x 18") at the same time. In art therapy, using both hands simultaneously is described as bilateral drawing.
With my eyes closed, I mentally scan my body, exploring physical sensation of bubbly and the emotions of anxiety and frustration. For approximately 15 to 20 seconds, I allow my hands to scribble onto the paper without judgment or expectations. For this particular scribble, I chose a blue chalk pastel and a yellow oil pastel.
“It Is Just Scribbles”
Even though I understand this process—which has been meaningful and awe-inspiring more times than I can count—sometimes a part of me still thinks: It is just scribbles. This is a waste of time. What could possibly come from it?
I share this because you may be trying the process for the first time and thinking the same thing. You may feel foolish scribbling on paper, as though you are three years old again.
Perhaps, I suggest, this is where clarity may begin to emerge: within the simple honesty of our childlike selves.
After all, we are adults. We “should” know what to do and how to do it. Right?
That simply is not true.
We are doing the best we can. Life can sometimes throw unexpected curveballs, upsetting the balance of things.
Allowing an Image to Emerge
After I finish scribbling, I open my eyes, look at the image, and slowly turn the paper in different directions. I become curious. What am I seeing? Does anything emerge or ask to be seen?
As I sat with the scribble below, some of the lines began to resemble a bird sitting on a wire. I outlined the bird with the blue chalk pastel and then stayed in “relationship” with it—sitting and listening to it as I might sit with a friend who had come to visit.

Our art, according to Barbara Ganim and Susan Fox (1999, p. 2), is “a connection to our soul’s wisdom.” It can offer messages when we are willing to slow down and listen. The authors write, “it is a wisdom that sees beyond the rational mind’s fragmented interpretation of life events into a deeper vision that reveals our inner truth and the purpose inherent in all our experiences.” If you are reading this blog now, maybe you will explore whether this is true for you as well. Maybe this is not true for all people, but in my experience, it is very true. I have experienced many gentle reminders from my own “soul’s wisdom” that have left me with a sense of awe.
As I looked at my image, I returned my attention inward. I noticed my body sensations and listened for any words that arose.
The words that surfaced were: Movement. Freedom. Flight.
At that moment, a sense of hope emerged. It was a knowing. I did not evaluate or attempt to interpret the image to gain this awareness. I sat with it. I waited. The sensation rose up within me.
Returning to the Process
The following morning, the unresolved situation that had stirred many emotions was still percolating, as unresolved situations involving others often do. I decided to return to the scribble process.
This time, the sensations and feelings I identified were: Suppressed. Unappreciated.
Confused. Tired.
As I worked with the second scribble, another image emerged. I saw a large blue hand and a figure inside a womb-like shaped circle. Next, an eye appeared.

A very important step, one many of us may overlook—simply because we have never been taught its importance—is witnessing the art.
What does it mean to witness an image?
Begin by writing down everything you see. Start literally. Describe what you see.
Continue writing until there is nothing more that wants to be written. There is no need to analyze the image or decide what it is “supposed” to mean. Just remember to remain present, notice, and listen.
I completed this witnessing process with both of my scribbles. It led me toward greater clarity and gentleness with myself.
Without sharing every word I wrote, the message I received was simple:
Just wait.
Stop.
It was gentle internal guidance reminding me: Like a bird waiting before it takes flight, sometimes I must also wait until it is time to fly.
I will know when the time comes to "fly". I do not need to rush toward an answer or worry my way into certainty.
An Invitation to Scribble
If you would like to try this process, begin by observing what sensations are present inside your body. What sensations are present? What emotion or emotions are connected to the sensations? Write down one or two words, at the top of the page, that describe the physical sensations or emotions you are experiencing before you begin.
Tape your paper down to prevent it from moving. Close your eyes and stay with those sensations. Choose two colors, one for each hands, and allow yourself to scribble for 15 to 20 seconds. Close your eyes, if doing so feels comfortable and safe, to prevent yourself from controlling the outcome of your scribbles. Move both hands. Let your body sensations or emotions guide the pressure, direction, speed, and size of your movements.
When you are finished, slowly turn the page and notice whether anything draws your attention. You may add to what you see, outline part of it, or leave the scribble exactly as it is. As you look at the scribble now, return your attention inward and write down one or two words, at the bottom of the page, that describe what you are experiencing physically or emotionally.
Then spend some time witnessing the image. Write down what you are seeing. If any words arise, you can write those down as well. For me, and for many others who have tried this method, the words that emerge can become like poetry.
Do not feel pressured to find a message or interpret the image. This may be your first time trying this.
Simply stay with it for a while, as you would a friend who came to visit. Honor that friend with time and silence, allowing it the space to share and talk with you. Listen.
I would love to hear about your experienced through this process. Please reach out and share it with me.
If you are interested in exploring Expressive Arts Therapy through individual therapy, learning more about visual journaling, or understanding the educational and professional pathways toward becoming a Registered Art Therapist or Registered Expressive Arts Therapist, please reach out to learn more about the services, education, and consultation I offer.
Resources:
Capacchione, L. (2015). The creative journal: The art of finding yourself. Ohio University
Press.
Ganim, B., & Fox, S. (1999). Visual journaling: Going deeper that words. Quest Books.




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