A weekly mother and daughter conversation about art, attention, and how we look at the world. <br/><br/><a href="https://scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast">scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com</a>
Scribble, Doodle & Bleed Podcast
Claim This Podcastby Leah & Michelle Scott-Kirby
8 episodes
Updated Daily
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Podcast Overview
A weekly mother and daughter conversation about art, attention, and how we look at the world. <br/><br/><a href="https://scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast">scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com</a>
Language
🇺🇲
Publishing Since
2/5/2026
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Recent Episodes
June 3, 2026
Knives & 1970s Sitcoms
<p><strong>Knives & 1970s Sitcoms</strong></p><p>We’re back! After a short hiatus filled with travel, schedule changes, new jobs, Mother’s Day, and the general chaos of being alive, Scribble Doodle & Bleed has returned.</p><p>This week’s words were <strong>knives</strong> and <strong>1970s sitcoms</strong>, which somehow led us toward laugh tracks, finger knives, Edward Scissorhands, black eyes, lucky pennies, missing bagels, and a surprisingly passionate discussion about bangs.</p><p>After catching up, we did what we always do and started by definition-dipping. A knife, we learned, is a tool or weapon consisting of a sharp-edged blade attached to a handle. A 1970s sitcom comes from what many consider the golden era of socially conscious television, tackling topics like divorce, racism, the Vietnam War, and the women’s movement, all within the comforting structure of a half-hour comedy.</p><p>Michelle’s piece, Laugh Track, explored the strange coziness of classic sitcom worlds: avocado-green living rooms, neighbors who drift in without knocking, and problems small enough to fit neatly between commercial breaks.</p><p>Leah headed somewhere considerably weirder with a story about a person showing off their new “blades,” only to accidentally blind a loved one with the reflected light. The result involved tears, chamomile tea, finger knives, and an ending that left us both thinking of Edward Scissorhands.</p><p>As usual, the conversation wandered. Duh.</p><p>We talked about collage projects, pickle-covered journals, and art shows. Leah shared a story about a customer named Penny who was genuinely distressed about the disappearance of actual pennies and worried that her namesake might disappear with them. Michelle lamented having a painting accepted into a show that she didn’t actually want accepted. We discussed Mother’s Day, forgotten bagels that somehow migrated into a freezer, and whether anyone should ever trust themselves to cut their own bangs.</p><p>There was also an update on Leah’s black eye, courtesy of an enthusiastic dog and an unfortunately placed bone. Fortunately, no eyeballs were lost in the making of this episode.</p><p>Before signing off, we pulled next week’s prompts: <strong>Tornado</strong> and <strong>Not Necessarily</strong>.</p><p>Which feels like it could go absolutely anywhere.</p><p>If you create something inspired by this week’s words, we’d love to see it. Send us a photo, a story, a sketch, a recording, or whatever form your creativity decides to take.</p><p>And if you have words you’d like to add to our jars, send those too. We’re always collecting possibilities.</p><p>Stay Weird,</p><p>Michelle & Leah</p> <br/><br/>Get full access to Scribble, Doodle, & Bleed at <a href="https://scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4">scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com/subscribe</a>
March 30, 2026
Grizzly + Closed
<p><strong>A Friendly Grizzly</strong></p><p>This week’s words were <strong>grizzly</strong> and <strong>closed</strong>, which of course pushed us toward bears, cabins, and places that may or may not be safe to enter.</p><p>After a few minutes of bantering, we began, as usual, by definition-dipping. A grizzly isn’t just the bear. It can also mean gray-haired or gray-streaked. Huh! Who knew.</p><p>Leah brought a drawing of a very sweet-looking grizzly, done in ink and colored pencil, with extremely kind eyes for an animal that is known for ripping things apart, including parting people from their own scalps.</p><p>Leah also shared <strong>“Margot and the Unexpected Guest,”</strong> a story about a woman living alone in a remote cabin who decides to welcome a mysterious visitor in from the cold. </p><p>Michelle followed with <strong>“Grizzly Closed,”</strong> a quieter, dreamlike piece about an abandoned art shop with a single painting titled Grizzly. </p><p>Somewhere in the middle we noticed that both of our grizzlies ended up feeling… kind. gentle. </p><p>Then we drifted into real bear (grizzly or otherwise) stories. Leah once nearly biked straight into one in the dark. Another time a DoorDash delivery (the delivery, not the driver) was eaten by a cub plopped down just outside her gate.</p><p>And then a surprise guest arrived: <strong>David Kirby</strong> (Leah’s dad, Michelle’s husband), who joined us by phone from just a few rooms away to tell a Yosemite camping story involving a bear ripping open a tent!!!</p><p>Yup. That’s how it goes around here.</p><p>If you came up with anything from this week’s prompts, please send it to us. A photo, a text, a voice note. We’d love to see what you created, and we’d love to share it too.</p><p>And if you have any words to add to our jars, send those along as well. :)</p><p>Next week we have: 1970s Sitcoms + Knives (that should be interesting)</p><p>Stay Wild,Michelle & Leah</p><p>Listen to us on Spotify! </p><p>Leah’s Piece:</p><p>Michelle’s Piece:</p><p>Grizzly Closed</p><p>The art shop on Main Street had been closed for weeks.</p><p>A “For Sale” sign clung to its windows</p><p>their glass dim with dust</p><p>like sleepy eyes that had forgotten how to blink.</p><p>When Tress stepped inside,</p><p>the bell above the door did not ring.</p><p>It sighed.</p><p>Inside, the quiet gathered softly</p><p>in the way old libraries and winter mornings are quiet</p><p>Books long untouched,</p><p>mornings that never quite wake</p><p>It was empty other than a few dustballs.</p><p>A breeze from a cracked window brought up a loose piece of</p><p>bubblewrap trapped skidding in a corner.</p><p>Kinda eerie, she thought,</p><p>this vast emptiness.</p><p>Except on the far wall she saw a single, large painting.</p><p>She approached it and read</p><p>a brass plate beneath it:</p><p>“Grizzly”</p><p>The paint was thick,</p><p>rough,</p><p>Lush</p><p>Rivers of brown and gold ran across the canvas,</p><p>shadows</p><p>folding into deeper darkness</p><p>threads of lights seeping,</p><p>peeking through</p><p>here</p><p>and there.</p><p>It looked less like a painting</p><p>and more like a feeling someone had trapped in color.</p><p>Not really something seen,</p><p>Something remembered.</p><p>Tress stood very still</p><p>looking closer, trying to find a grizzly…</p><p>She listened</p><p>not with her ears</p><p>but with that small hidden place inside each of us</p><p>where wonder lives</p><p>The painting seemed to breathe.</p><p>Strangely, this did not frighten her.</p><p>It only made her curious.</p><p>Instead of turning away, she stepped closer.</p><p>Just one more step, and the world softened around her</p><p>like snow melting into water.</p><p>And then, just as Alice stepping through the looking glass,</p><p>Tress stepped through.</p><p>A forest opened</p><p>stretching wide and patient,</p><p>trees rising like pine green towers.</p><p>Wind moved through the branches</p><p>like a lullaby the earth had been singing.</p><p>A lullaby too old to have a beginning.</p><p>There were no wars here.</p><p>No shouting leaders pounding their chests and</p><p>boasting like restless boys.</p><p>No borders scratched into the soil.</p><p>Only grizzly.</p><p>A great many grizzlies.</p><p>Soft giants with fur the color of mountains at sunset.</p><p>They moved through the forest like slow rivers of life.</p><p>Powerful</p><p>Steady</p><p>Peaceful.</p><p>A cub tumbled out of a patch of clover,</p><p>soft and unsteady as laughter.</p><p>An old one leaned into an ancient tree,</p><p>scratched its back</p><p>as though time itself lived in the bark.</p><p>Everything breathed together</p><p>The forest,</p><p>The light,</p><p>the quiet turning of the world.</p><p>It felt like a deep breath the universe had finally finished taking.</p><p>Tress walked into a meadow</p><p>where tall grasses brushed her hands,</p><p>and sunlight fell in warm, scattered pieces.</p><p>The same cub found her</p><p>It came without fear</p><p>and sat beside her</p><p>as though she had always belonged.</p><p>And in that stillness she understood…</p><p>This place was not wild like storms or fire.</p><p>but of kindness,</p><p>A quiet kingdom where the only rulers were</p><p>forests, rivers,</p><p>and gentle grizzly hearts,</p><p>made of strength that did not need to rise,</p><p>because nothing here asked it to.</p><p>No voices broke the air.</p><p>No lines divided the earth.</p><p>There was only the steady hush of living things</p><p>being exactly what they were.</p><p>The cub leaned against her.</p><p>Warm.</p><p>Real.</p><p>In that moment Tress felt she had not stepped into another world at all,</p><p>but into the peaceful dream</p><p>the earth had been trying to</p><p>remember.</p><p></p> <br/><br/>Get full access to Scribble, Doodle, & Bleed at <a href="https://scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4">scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com/subscribe</a>
March 20, 2026
Jonathan + Nail Polish
<p>A Little Polish, A Few Jonathans</p><p>This week’s words were <strong>Jonathan</strong> and <strong>nail polish</strong>, which sounds like the start of either a very specific apology letter or the world’s strangest beauty tutorial.</p><p>We began with our usual definition-dipping and learned that Jonathan comes from Hebrew meaning gift of God, though Urban Dictionary would have you believe it’s actually the name of the world’s most interesting man with an eight-pack. As definitions go, we’re choosing to believe both are technically possible.</p><p>Leah shared a piece addressed to the many Jonathans she’s encountered across a lifetime: the funny ones, the frustrating ones, the writers, the politicians, the quiet boys who turned out to be something else entirely. It’s part letter, part memory collage, and part reckoning with the strange way people echo through our lives long after they’ve left the room.</p><p>Michelle brought a wildly imaginative apology letter written to the <strong>sun</strong>, confessing to a catastrophic mistake involving bright yellow nail polish and an attempt to make the universe just a little shinier. The result? A cosmic disaster, a guilty conscience, and a narrator who may or may not be Jonathan Livingston Seagull.</p><p>Along the way we wandered through writing prompts, the chaos and freedom of the 100-Day Project, Italian language practice, seagulls with questionable personalities, and the creative magic of constraints that accidentally turn into entire stories.</p><p>That’s the rhythm of it. Two words, a handful of stories, and a reminder that creativity usually begins somewhere between curiosity and complete nonsense.</p><p>Next week’s words are <strong>Grizzly</strong> and <strong>Closed</strong>.</p><p>If Jonathan or nail polish sparked something in you, send it our way. And if you have words for the jar, keep them coming.</p><p>Stay Curious,Michelle & Leah</p><p></p><p><p>Scribble, Doodle, & Bleed is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.</p></p><p></p> <br/><br/>Get full access to Scribble, Doodle, & Bleed at <a href="https://scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4">scribbledoodlebleed.substack.com/subscribe</a>
8 total episodes available
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This podcast updates daily.
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