Stimming Doodles
I've always been a doodler. For as long as I can remember I've been inking spirals and circles in the margins. I've also always been autistic. Though I've only known in the past couple years.
With this project I started to play with the idea of what we're supposed to keep hidden and what we choose to put on display. What's made to stay small and what's allowed to be big.
For a lot of my creative career I've made artwork for briefs or tried to recreate a face or craft a perfect style. It's only in having a really difficult few years that brought me back to my love of doodling. For a long time it was the only thing I could create for myself, a busy brain calmed by the repetitive motions. It was a therapist who encouraged me to doodle and scribble and make marks just because, she helped me realise this was a form of stimming (thanks Yasmin!)
Stimming is defined as a repetitive motion or behaviour that helps regulate, sooth or manage energy and emotions. Autistic people can stim when we're happy, stressed, overwhelmed, and many more reasons. Stimming also looks different for everyone. It can be as unique as a fingerprint.
This year, I've constantly had a small sketchbook in my pocket which I'd whip out to doodle in. Sometimes to calm me in a stressful public transport situation or help me concentrate better during readings at my local writers group or D&D sessions. You can watch me flip through of two of them below.
I wanted to work on something big, but my confidence had taken a beating and I didn't think I deserved to make a big project. I didn't have a distinct style or anything important to say. Until I realised I've already been working on something.
It had been living in my pocket this whole time.
It's like there was this nasty perfectionist voice in my ear, searching for the "perfect" artwork, when all along the cool thing I had fun making was there in the margins. That's like being autistic and masking and hiding stimming, I was trying so hard to carve this perfect person when the most interesting things about me are intrinsically linked to me being autistic.
It's like there was this nasty perfectionist voice in my ear, searching for the "perfect" artwork, when all along the cool thing I had fun making was there in the margins. That's like being autistic and masking and hiding stimming, I was trying so hard to carve this perfect person when the most interesting things about me are intrinsically linked to me being autistic.
Once I looked back at these drawings I started to see patterns (my autistic brain is usually pretty good at that), and they reminded me of some of my favourite studies by Giuseppe Penone (one giant piece covering a whole wall at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park in particular) and artwork by Olinda Reshinjabe Silvano (which I saw in 2023 at the Arctic/Amazon: Networks of Global Indigeneity exhibition.)
Since I started making a living out of my creative skills, creating promotional content for theatre shows, social media graphics, music videos and more, my personal art had started to feel stressful and filled with pressure. I wanted to create something that I enjoyed, and drawing these worms over and over again make me feel happy.
When I'm creating art for a brand, taking photos for a show, or even just doing something for Instagram, I'm constantly in my head and criticising what I'm doing. What will other people think, how will they see it, is it good enough? When I draw the worms I'm not thinking about any of that, I'm just thinking how good the pen feels sliding along the page and where I'm going to fit the next line.
I have no idea what it will look like when it's done, and that doesn't matter.
Who decides what is shameful and hidden and what's celebrated in the spotlight?
These sketchbooks have also felt like a reflection of finding autistic, queer joy in community. What I thought was just a mindless, silly repetition, others noticed and celebrated. Friends and strangers have commented on my doodles, showing genuine interest and asking to see more. They've been compared to fingerprints, a brain, a map, smoke, a maze, and my favourite "little worms".
I was ashamed of my stimming for a long time, shunned by teachers and employers.
"It's unprofessional to bite your nails."
"Why are you rocking back and forth?"
"Don't flap your hands like that."
"Stop doodling in your notes, don't you see how messy it looks?"
Maybe it's time to not just think outside the box, but draw outside it too.
"It's unprofessional to bite your nails."
"Why are you rocking back and forth?"
"Don't flap your hands like that."
"Stop doodling in your notes, don't you see how messy it looks?"
Maybe it's time to not just think outside the box, but draw outside it too.
Here are some of my favourite doodles.
Stimming Book is acrylic on canvas 59cmx49cm.
Here are some of the digital doodles and experiments, drawn on Procreate.
