Blog - Page 3 of 24 - Ingrid Murray

These Past Months

Two outreached hands, spray painted in black onto a wooden fence, extend index fingers as if to touch, a la Michaelangelo's God and Adam on the Sistine Chapel.

The summer solstice fell on June 21st this year. Then the midway point of 2023 passed, and I finished James’ Clear‘s Atomic Habits a few weeks later. All of this has culminated in a pressing need to take a moment to pause, be present, and ask myself: How are things actually going?

The little things become the big things

Atomic Habits’ entire premise is that “small habits don’t add up. They compound.” The book explores the psychology of and misconceptions about habits, and suggests that building the lives we desire is possible through small, consistent daily choices and actions.

I highlighted nearly every other sentence; each on its own contains a multitude to parse out. It was Clear’s comments on self reflection, though, that jumped out at me as the mid-point of the year had just passed. He writes:

Reflection and review enables the long-term improvement of all habits because it makes you aware of your mistakes and helps you consider possible paths for improvement. … Personally, I employ two primary modes of reflection and review. Each December, I perform an Annual Review, in which I reflect on the previous year. … Six months later, when summer rolls around, I conduct an Integrity Report.”

I reflect and set intentions just before each new year, and I do have a sort of quarterly/seasonal reflection via my newsletter. Until now, though, I haven’t dedicated any thoughtful time mid-year to checking in on the goals I dreamed up the winter. And given that I’m progressively more stunned by how quickly time speeds by (and often bewildered as to how to recapture my days and be the agent in my own life), a summer review is a practice I’m adopting, starting now.

Two open mixed media art journals stacked on one another. The one at the bottom has black brush strokes! The one on the top is made of brown craft paper and has minimal collage and energetic marks and drips in neon pink and black.

What I’ve achieved

In a wild and literally life-changing year, moving to Germany was the biggest goal — everything else, really, was icing on the cake.

But I am proud of what else I’ve made happen: I chased some big dreams (took part in Messy May, applied for a freelance writing gig with an author I admire, called about a studio space), prioritized mental and physical health (journaled, meditated, felt all the feels, went on many walks, upped my fruits and veggies), and emphasized delight (attended an intimate Vivaldi performance, traveled to Italy, took part in some Oliver Burkeman workshops, tried new restaurants in Cologne).

Looking ahead

I’m stealing something from Clear’s Integrity Report — identifying and centering core personal values. Similar to years past, the values that resonate most with me are curiosity, creativity, joy, security, and connection. (This is a great tool I’ve found for narrowing down your own.)

How can I better embody my core values in my daily life?

Curiosity. “What if…?” Buy and try new art supplies. Explore new things, with permission to move away from them if they don’t feel right.
Creativity. More art-making, and embracing of imperfection. Stylistic exploration. More making things with my hands: knitting/crocheting (coasters), carving stamps, collaging, big paintings, jewelry, sewing (clothes). Make home home. MORE WRITING.
Joy. Get out of the house and see musicals, go ice skating, pet the dogs, go to a Weihnachtsmarkt, travel. Chase the things that make me so excited I want to throw up. Go on noticing walks several times a week. Reflect more on what brings me delight.
Security. Financial: Put more in savings by the end of year. Sell some art in some way. Self care/having my own back: regular reflection, writing, asking self Qs that help. Get better sleep. More movement, veggies, self love.
Connection. Stay in touch with old friends. Nurture new friendships. Have a regular virtual game day with family. Buy ticket for home. Read more books. Pick up the phone and call my parents.

Ultimately, in a few months, when I look back to what I have achieved from this point, I want to have written more, to have stretched my linguistic muscles and shaped my ephemeral and fleeting thoughts into words. I want to have cultivated joy and ease and connection, and above all to have been gentle with myself.

Street art of Bacchus nursing a hangover with aspirin and Alka-Seltzer

A look up at the intersection of two buildings early in the morning

ICAD 2023

An acrylic portrait — atop a collaged background — of a smiling Asian child in a green shirt and pigtails.

An acrylic portrait — atop a collaged background — of a smiling man with a white goatee, in a blue shirt and black hat.

This year for the Index Card a Day (ICAD) challenge, hosted by Tammy Garcia of Daisy Yellow, I decided to step way outside my comfort zone and tackle something I’ve always been interested in exploring: portraits.

The only index cards I had on hand were just 2×3″ (5×7.6 cm). I added collage, chose an reference image from Google, and tried my best to capture the light and shadow in a loose way while generally capturing the spirit of the model.

After nine portraits, I’m moving on to creative processes I enjoy more — but to be clear, I’m not leaving this project with shame or guilt for having not finished or wishing that I’d pursued something different. In fact, I feel proud that I not only tried something new, but I gave myself permission to walk away when it became something I had to do, not something I wanted to do. Year of ease, remember?

Here’s what I learned during this experience:

When starting out, make it simple. These cards were way too small, and I didn’t have the right brushes to paint something with such tiny detailed elements. If I make more portraits in the future, I’ll give myself more room to work with and make sure that I have brushes that will allow me to capture the level of precision that I need.
Even a short repeated attempt at something new will build new skills. I learned a lot during this process: open-mouthed smiles are hard to capture, layering diluted paint adds depth and detail, and I really love painting kids and dynamic shadows.
Prepare to make mistakes! I have a pile of portraits I started then abandoned, either because they were overworked or I wanted to start on them afresh.
Stepping outside your comfort zone to try One New Thing in one way gives you permission to not only make what you’ve committed to, but to expand in other ways as well. I’m curious about making tiny abstract works on the rest of these index cards and look forward to experimenting with new compositions and processes.

Read more about ICAD here. See previous years’ work here: 2022, 2021, 2019. (I skipped 2020.)

Messy May 2023

An open mixed media art journal. A layer of mostly neutral collage (and one large teal painted paper) is topped with energetic marks and drips in black, neon pink, white, orange, and blue. Most of the background shows through.

Over the weekend I took part in a Creative Hour conversation with Caylee Grey, Meg of Meg Journals, Claudette Hasenjager and more than 100 other art journalers. Caylee is the founder of Get Messy, and Claudette, Meg, and I are three of thirty artists leading this year’s Messy May, a free daily art journaling project.

Connecting with other creatives is something I treasure. Sharing processes, challenges, inspiration, and habits reminds me both of how deeply personal creating necessarily is, and also how universal and innately human creativity is. I am always humbled and inspired, and leave more curious about and committed to my creative practice.

Thank you to all the participants for joining, and to Claudette, Meg, and Caylee for a fantastic conversation.

PLAY in Messy May

For me, creating is a practice of tapping into childlike wonder and intuition. There is no room in my art journal for criticism or perfectionism — only curiosity, joyful exploration, and reflection. As a Messy May featured artist, I encouraged participants to let go of expectations and tap into playfulness and possibility.

Check out the video above for a time lapse of my process, and some additional creative prompts to encourage playfulness.

And below, just a few of the many, many responses to the PLAY prompt. Click on any image to be taken to the artist’s feed. (If you decide to give it a go, please tag me on Instagram! I’d love to see what you make.)

Pinch Me

A fluffy gray and white cat sleeps upside down in a sunny windowsill.

A view looking up into just-leafing trees in early spring.

This morning, six weeks after moving to Germany — and after years of wanting this to be my reality — I marveled that I’m here. This happened.

My husband and I came back a few days ago from a trip to see his family in Tunisia; though we saw ancient ruins and the ocean and had a wonderful visit, the most magical part was coming home. We live together. This is our everyday life.

It still feels like vacation.

Why abstract art?

Open mixed media art journal. A layer of collage (graph paper, security envelope) is topped with energetic abstract marks in teal and turquoise, green, neon pink, and dark blue. Much of the background shows through.

I admire photorealism: it takes a huge amount of patience and technical skill to represents external reality well.

What I love about abstract art, though, is the conveying of emotion, experience, thought, and existence through form, color, movement, texture, and composition. It represents internal reality.

When I create my work, I tap into a sense of childlike wonder, letting intuition and joy lead the creative process. I choose colors that feel right in that moment. I scribble and splatter. I react to what’s on the page; nothing is preplanned.

Last year, I went to see a Joan Mitchell exhibition at the Baltimore Museum of Art. Joan’s paintings are huge and inspired by “remembered landscapes that I carry with me — and remembered feelings of them, which of course become transformed. … I could certainly never mirror nature. I … like more to paint what it leaves me with.”

The point of abstract art is expression and curiosity, not perfection.