Divination tools have always fascinated me. I experimented with many of them, knowingly and unknowingly, until I realized that one of my most natural tools was a pencil. Drawing, scribbling and entering a flow state are all divination tools. They have been used in this way across cultures, artistic movements and spiritual traditions for centuries. 

As humans, we’ve long used mark-making to connect and communicate with non‑physical planes. The earliest forms of communication are markings: a way of transmitting meaning that predates the written word. The idea is simple: you draw while in a meditative/enlightened state. The markings left behind become a catalogue of the transcribed message.  

Many cultures have traditions built around this. Locally, on the Haldimand Tract, Indigenous nations have long used visual tools to commune with the subtle forces around us. Among the Ojibwe, birchbark scrolls, called wiigwaasabakoon, serve as a ceremonial tool within the Midewiwin (Grand Medicine Society). Inscribed on the scrolls are pictographs of complex knowledge that serve as a preserved artefact and guide.  

Across the ocean, one of many African traditions is the Yoruba ọpọn Ifá tray, where a diviner invokes spirit and transcribes messages through sacred markings. In East Asia, the ancient Chinese used oracle bone cracks as a means of divining meaning. The Arabic ilm al-raml (science of the sand) is a form of divination that uses intuitively created patterns drawn in the sand. Across these traditions, the underlying principle remains the same: marks reveal messages and drawing becomes a bridge between the physical and the unseen.  

Academically, it can be explained as automatic drawing. We can see it in the early 20th-century surrealists who used this method as a way to access the subconscious or psychic realm. Hilma af Klint produced drawings while in trances that she described as “guided” by spiritual entities. 

As humans, we have always been interested in transcribing messages from unseen forces. I have been conducting intuitive and psychic readings professionally for over a decade, but I only incorporated drawing once I learned to trust that, as a visual artist, the pencil is simply the tool my body knows best. 

My ritual always begins by connecting with my body and the land. I set an intention for the session and protect my space. When reading for someone, I often ask them to write their name or place their energy on the paper. I have learned that consent and intention matter when you are opening a channel.  

For collective readings, I will write the question on the page. Then, I enter a flow state and draw automatically—with a pencil or crayon—and let the image emerge. Sometimes I will draw with my nondominant hand if I’m having a harder time getting into a flow. Intuitively, there is a moment when you know you’re done. Sometimes the messages come through as riddles; sometimes they’re startlingly literal. I’ve drawn things in sessions that were far too specific for me to have known: details about a client’s childhood home, a symbol from their grandmother’s jewelry, a recurring dream image. 

When I do collective readings, I believe the viewer’s interpretation is as important as mine. These drawings are inherently multi-layered and speak differently to each person. 

For this month, I asked: What does the collective need to know—or remember—over the next two months? 

The main thing I received from the image was a colourful light figure moving downward through what appears to be a dark but starry sky. The colours blue and yellow felt significant, and the motion didn’t feel menacing—more like a gentle dive. The figure seemed to be reaching a kind of catharsis through this downward movement. Blue and yellow, to me, suggest themes of confidence, voice and communication. The feeling is both enthusiastic and nervous. The figure in the dark sky suggests a landscape full of wonder and mystery. 

So perhaps the interpretation I would offer for the coming end of season is this: move toward what makes you both enthusiastic and nervous—it will likely fill you with light and colour. 

I have my interpretations, but I invite you to look at the image yourself. Notice what symbols stand out. Notice what feelings arise. Your reading is an important part of the message, too.

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