Blog - Ingrid Murray

Living, Intentionally

White blossoms on a branch in sunlight, backlit by a blue sky.

Today I turn another year older (and hopefully, another year wiser). I’m grateful I’ve given myself every chance to keep going, and am celebrating my softness, my childlike delight in the small things, my kindness, my creativity, my sense of humor.

A few lessons learned in my time on earth thus far:

All we are ever granted is the present moment. Make time for the good things, the off-screen things, the people and hobbies and activities that make our days meaningful. How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.
You are important. You are worthy of love and gentleness and peace and safety. Never, ever abandon yourself. Seek out the tools you need to trust yourself more, support yourself more, and be your happiest and healthiest.
The little things are, in fact, everything. Don’t wait for those rare moments of perfect euphoria; find joy in the everyday.
Art-making is a spiritual practice. Keep creating.

(There’s so much more goodness to come.)

How to Paint Like a Child

Children’s art is one of my greatest inspirations: it’s intuitive and impulsive, without the confines of “should” and “can’t”. Kids don’t have any sense of limitation, or any reason to doubt their own abilities.

Detail of a mixed media art piece, with brush strokes, scribbles, and splatter.

Picasso famously said “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” And, in one of my favorite talks ever, Do Schools Kill Creativity?, Sir Ken Robinson spoke about the confidence of a child drawing.

Today, I encourage you to pull out some paper, or canvas, and explore like a kid. Cheap materials work well for this kind of exercise: you’ll worry less about “wasting” your supplies and focus more on experimenting.

Try picking a color — paint, pen, pencil — and making random marks on a page. Close your eyes. Use your non-dominant hand.

Step back. What color is next? What color feels like it should come next? Add that.

Step back again, and look at what you’ve made. How does it make you feel? What is missing? What materials can you experiment with? What’s next?

I find that when I create like this, I wind up with tons of messy pieces, some that I’ll toss or paint over. But often, I also end up with some very surprising and joyful works of art that I would never have discovered had I not let go and experimented.

Let go and channel your inner child: curious and unafraid of failing. And most importantly — have fun.

January Mixed Media Art Showcase

I am currently showing mixed media art in the window of Atelier No. 5 in Cologne, Germany through the end of January. There’s something for everyone: larger pieces on canvas, wood panels, and paper, as well as smaller, more affordable pieces on paper (not shown here).

Square mixed media abstract piece. The primary colors are shades of turquoise, black, and yellow, with accents of white and neon pink. — “Delight Me”

Square mixed media abstract piece. The primary colors are black, orange, white, and blue, with accents of lime green and fuchsia. — “Delight Me”

Details of the above, in order:

“Delight Me”: mixed media on wood, 12×12 in (30.5×30.5 cm), 175€
“Clown Car”: mixed media on wood 12×12 in(30.5×30.5 cm), 175€
“All the Good Things”: mixed media on canvas, ca. 16×16 in (41×41 cm), 200€
“Flowers/Fireworks”: mixed media on canvas, ca. 16x16in (41×41 cm), 200€
“Hurry I-II”: Mixed media on paper, 8.3×11.7 in (21×29.7 cm) 90€ each

If you’re in the area, come by! If you’re not in the area, stay tuned—I’m going to a post-show sale for the first time in over a decade. (Eek!)

Things of Note, 2023

A 4x5 grid of photos of nature, art, travel, and a cat.

This year was hard. From my newsletter: “As a whole, [2023] was a one of wild — and often painful — growth. Though I’m happy to have it nearly behind me, I do appreciate the lessons it reinforced: community is everything; joy is everywhere; art is central to my well-being; and I am, unquestionably, loved.”

Navigating the complexities of moving to Germany. Celebrating our first anniversary alone and getting a visa in the same week. England and a lawyer. Early mornings on the train and a thick pink folder with all the documents. Receiving, finally, my residency permit. Learning the subway stations by heart.
A clean bill of health, again — something I’ll never not be grateful for.
Growing my art practice. Hanging a piece at Out of Order. Messy May. Joining a studio and selling my work. The Kindred Collective. Joining the Get Messy teaching team for 2024. Late nights painting and listening to audiobooks.
Seeking community. Game days. All the dogs at the Ministry of Brewing. New tattoos. A week with mom in spring. The Social Melting Pot. El Jem. Awkward first friend dates. Drinks and Mexican food and Weihnachtmärkte and the Thermalbad. Düsseldorf and Bonn; cookies in camping chairs. Barbecues. A visit from Kris.
A hot, hot summer. Days on the Rhine. Pasta salad. Naps with ice packs. Florence with E. Layers of art and history. Wine and pasta and limoncello with a new Israeli friend.
Moving, twice. Purging everything and seeing my things distributed among loved ones. Saying goodbye to a favorite home, sunbeams, and all my routines. Later, months of apartment hunting; a final, slow move just before the end of the year.
Practicing self care: the Lewis Museum, a luxurious bath, books, the Santa Clause, puzzles.
Surviving. Cat fights and real fights. Missing home and friendly faces. Exhaustion. Gloomy days and gloomy moods. Two trips to Tunisia. Sarcasm and frayed nerves and bed at dinnertime.
Going back home: kitties and kombucha and game day and the ER and puzzles and Chipotle. Dutch Blitz. Target and Savers. Texts and calls and The Mysteries. Being reminded, again and again, of how loved I am, and how missed.

Past year reflections.