books Archives - 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

Bird by Bird

I just finished reading Anne Lamott’s insightful (and wickedly funny) Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. I hadn’t actually heard of her before picking up the book in a little library in my neighborhood — but her words found me at the right time.

I’m deeply curious about other creatives’ practices, and the writing process is still somewhat of a mystery to me. How can anyone take a feeling or experience, something so big and complex and nuanced, and capture it in something as limited as language?

But this kind of question can ensure that we never put pen to paper. Perfectionism, really, is the antithesis to play and exploration and learning. Lamott gives you permission to write badly: one of her first pieces of advice is to “write really, really shitty first drafts.”

“You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something — anything — down on paper,” she says. If you write and it turns out laughably awful, you are still doing something right. (Kind of like making ugly visual art: if you’re creating, you’re on the right path. Make ugly art, or terrible first drafts. Just don’t not create.)

The only thing to do when the sense of dread and low self-esteem tells you that you are not up to this is to wear it down by getting a little work done every day.”

Lamott also speaks about writing as a lifelong journey, with no fool-proof formula: you can only show up, pay attention, create terrible first drafts, seek feedback, learn from your mistakes, and try again. Writing, like any other kind of creating, is a process, one of self exploration and expression — and it’s the work (the verb), not the work (the noun) that is ultimately most valuable:

You’ll find yourself at work on, maybe really into, another book, and once again you figure out that the real payoff is the writing itself, that a day when you have gotten your work done is a good day, that total dedication is the point.”

(Emphasis is mine.)

Books About Art Journaling

I first discovered the idea of using books as an creative medium back in high school. I was in Ms. Madsen’s art class, and I still remember picking up and flipping through Bev Brazelton’s Altered Books Workshop and feeling the simultaneous excitement of and hesitancy about using paint and collage in a perfectly good book. It felt forbidden — how often have we been taught not to damage books but to treat them with utmost care? It seemed wasteful.

But Bev’s book.. it was a spark.

Since then, I’ve spent hundreds and hundreds of hours reading books and blogs and scrolling social media accounts, seeing how others approach art journaling and testing out new ideas. I’ve filled dozens of books with my own art, art journals journals that I’ve made by hand and others that started as thrifted books. I’ve ripped out and burned pages, weighed them down with weavings and found objects, experimented with realism and abstract art and a household full of art supplies. I’m no longer afraid of a blank page.

Art is never a waste of materials.

Above is a selection of books about art journaling and creating that I’ve owned and loved over the past 15+ years (and a few I still have on my wishlist). Click through to see details. While these are all linked to Amazon, they’re not affiliate links, and I encourage you to consider buying these books from your local independent bookstore.

(Thanks, Ms. Madsen.)