A calendar page tearing off in the windDays going faster than you can hold them. Show the page mid-flight.
A footprint half washed away by a waveA moment that will not stay. Draw the sea's edge cutting across the print.
A matchstick burnt halfway alongA brief bright moment. Curl the burnt end and leave the rest clean.
A pocket watch lying open on a tableTime kept close. The chain curls away from it across the table.
A sandcastle as the tide comes inSomething built knowing it will go. The first wave reaches the moat.
A tree with a spring branch, a summer branch, an autumn branch and a bare oneA whole year, or a whole life, at once.
A wall clock whose hands have fallen to the floorA place where time stops mattering. The hands lie below the clock.
An hourglass turned on its sideTime paused, or a choice not to count. The sand lies still along the glass.
An ice cube melting on a warm stepSomething that cannot last. Draw the puddle bigger than the ice.
An old photograph with its corner curledA memory going soft at the edges. Draw the photo inside the photo in faded tones.
Old hands holding small new handsOne life handing on to the next. Draw the wrinkles and the smooth skin side by side.
The same doorway drawn twice, years apartChange. Draw it new on the left, worn and overgrown on the right.
Hope 12
A bird leaving an open cageBeing free to go. The cage door swings; the bird is already half out of the frame.
A bridge half built, reaching across a gapSomething not finished yet. Workers or birds on the unfinished end.
A key sitting in a door not yet openedA chance waiting. Draw the door closed, with light under it.
A kite pulling hard against the windRising because of the pressure, not despite it. The string goes taut.
A lighthouse beam cutting through a stormGuidance when things are rough. Draw the rain slanting across the beam.
A paper boat on a wide seaSomething small setting out anyway. Make the sea fill the page.
A path splitting in two in a woodA choice ahead. Draw one path in sun and one in shade.
A plant pushing through a crack in the pavementGrowing where nobody expected. Draw the cracked slabs heavy and the shoot small.
A single balloon rising above a grey cityLightness in a heavy place. Colour only the balloon.
A small boat steering toward one starKnowing where you are headed. A tiny boat, a huge sky.
Light at the far end of a tunnelThe way out. Draw the tunnel walls dark and let the end be white paper.
One lit window in a dark buildingSomeone still awake, or still there. Shade everything else first.
Together 12
A red thread tying two small figures togetherA bond across distance. Keep the thread long and loose.
A street of umbrellas with one in colourEveryone in the same rain. Grey umbrellas from above, one bright one among them.
A table set for many, with one extra chairRoom for one more. The empty chair is pulled out, ready.
Birds on a wire with one gap between themSomeone missing, or a place kept for them.
One hand helping another up a stepBeing lifted by someone. The top hand grips the wrist of the lower one.
One puzzle piece being handed to another personBeing what someone else needed.
Two mugs side by side on a windowsillQuiet company. Steam from both, curling into one.
Two pairs of worn shoes by a doorA long life lived together. Draw the creases where the feet bend.
Two people under one umbrellaSharing shelter. Draw the rain falling everywhere except under it.
Two people wrapped in one blanket, seen from behindWarmth shared. Two heads, one blanket, a view in front of them.
Two sets of footprints side by side in snowWalking the same way. One set small, one set large.
Two trees whose branches have grown into each otherLives that have grown together over years.
Home 12
A campfire circle with one space emptyHome is who is round you. Logs, a small fire, stones round it and a gap.
A favourite chair with a blanket on its armA person, drawn by their chair. The dent in the cushion stays.
A front door with a light on over itWelcome back. A step, a mat, a lamp above the door.
A kettle on the stove at nightBeing cared for. A dark kitchen, a lit stove, steam in the lamp light.
A key hanging on a hook by the doorBelonging somewhere. A small shelf, a coat, the key on its own hook.
A lamp left on in a hall for someoneWaiting up for someone. The front door, the lamp, a coat hook empty.
A nest in the fork of a bare treeA home made from almost nothing. Draw every twig of the nest, few of the tree.
A pin in a paper map, marking homeA place that matters. The rest of the map in pencil, the pin in colour.
A rowing boat tied up at its own jettyComing back. Draw the rope slack and the boat's name faded on its side.
A snowy roof with smoke from the chimneyWarmth inside, cold outside. The only warm colour is in the windows.
A tortoise asleep inside its shellHome as somewhere to rest. Only the tip of the nose shows.
Your street drawn as roots under a treeWhere you come from, holding you up. The houses sit along the roots.
Who you are 12
A backpack of stones, one being put downLetting go of something heavy. Draw the one stone on the ground, lighter in tone.
A caterpillar seeing a butterfly in a puddleWho you might become. The caterpillar looks down; the reflection has wings.
A child whose shadow is a grown-upWho you will become. The child small in the sun, the long shadow a grown figure.
A face half drawn and half left blankStill becoming who you are. Let the lines fade out across the middle.
A figure made of the things they loveA portrait without a face: books, a bike wheel, a cup, a dog.
A figure standing at the edge of a mapStepping into the unknown. The map stops at their toes.
A head opened like a chest of drawersWhat you keep inside. Each drawer holds something small and drawn in detail.
A mask held in the hand, not wornChoosing who to be. Draw the real face calm behind it.
A mirror showing someone slightly differentWho you are and who you see. Change one thing in the reflection.
A person-shaped window looking out onto skyWhat is inside is bigger than it looks. Draw a room with the window in its wall.
A small figure holding up a big umbrella in the windStanding your ground. The umbrella bends; the figure does not.
A tree with roots as big as its branchesAs much below as above. Split the page along the ground line.
How it works
Meaningful things to draw say something without words: a plant pushing through a crack in the pavement, a lamp left on for someone. Each of the 60 gives a reading and how to draw it. Press once, then choose a theme.
Read the full guide
Deep drawing ideas that stay gentle
Deep does not have to mean dark. The five themes are time, hope, being together, home and who you are, and every idea is one plain object or scene carrying the meaning, such as a paper boat on a wide sea.
Let one detail carry it
The meaning usually sits in one place: the gap between birds on a wire, the one bright umbrella in a grey street. Draw that part last and with the most care, and keep the rest plain.
Give the drawing a title. A few words underneath can turn a picture into a statement.
Use colour sparingly. One colour on a grey page points straight at the meaning.
Questions and answers
What can I draw that means something to a friend?
Together holds 12 for a friend or family: two people under one umbrella, a table set for many with one extra chair, two sets of footprints side by side in snow.
Do the meanings have to be the ones given?
No. Each is one reading. An hourglass turned on its side can mean rest or refusal; the drawing belongs to whoever looks at it.
Is anything on the list sad?
Nothing distressing. Some ideas are quiet, such as birds on a wire with one gap between them, but each is written to be drawn and shared without upset.