Planche de scribing illustrant le flow, avec un personnage au centre hésitant à entrer dans un flux dense d’idées et d’informations colorées. Scribing board showing the flow, with a central figure hesitating to step into a dense, colorful stream of ideas and information.

The flow

Scribing, a magic mirror

Scribing works like a magic mirror. It reflects and reveals what is said, thought, imagined, and felt. It triggers powerful moments of awareness. Ideas, concepts, and topics become visible and shared. They exist outside the mind of the person who created them. It’s a passage from the intangible to the tangible, turning thoughts into material for discussion, exchange, and growth.

Focus and immersion

When I started scribing seven years ago, I was all in, all the time. Listening, understanding, synthesizing, connecting ideas, choosing visual styles and tools, while still listening. Making links, abandoning others, failing, letting go. Not imposing my own ideas, staying empathic, expanding and narrowing my attention. Letting the line flow, merging with it, forgetting myself to come back clearer. Talking with participants, smiling, laughing, reacting, all of it live. After a while, the brain becomes so connected with the environment that everything happens automatically. And it’s pure joy. When I scribe, I can laugh, applaud, and cry in the same sentence.


Coming back to myself

The only thing I used to dread was the end of a session. It felt like a shock, a violent shift back to myself. Leaving the sensory space to explain my mural, my inner process, after eight hours of mental fireworks. Coming back to myself felt confusing, almost impossible. Each time I tried to act normal, I just glitched. I couldn’t even speak. Since then, I’ve learned to pace myself, to set boundaries and pauses, to let go of the need for completeness, and above all, to stop pretending.