reflection Archives - Page 2 of 4

Proof of Life

As 2023 approaches, I am reflecting on the past and planning for the future. It’s my favorite part of winter: How did I grow? What do I hope for in the coming year? What is most important to me?

In addition to my art journal, I primarily use three kinds of journals to guide me: a planner, a commonplace notebook, and a log book.

Planner: Clever Fox Weekly Planner
In early 2020, I bought my first Clever Fox planner. It includes space to create a vision board, identify goals and break them down by month and week, track habits, reflect on weekly and monthly wins, and, of course, keep a daily planner.

There are also ample dotted pages at the back for whatever is important; I keep my address list, book list, and other notes and things to reference here. There’s also a pocket in the back (my grandmother’s speech for our wedding reception is tucked inside).

A turquoise Leuchtturm notebook with a Charm City Threads holographic sticker of an umbrella with the words "It'll be alright".

Commonplace Notebook: Leuchtturm1917
I’ve been keeping some kind of journal for decades. Lately, I’ve loved the Leuchtturm notebook: it’s numbered and has a space in the front for an index list and plenty of creamy blank pages to write and doodle. I make it my own with a sticker.

Read more about my commonplace notebook.

A black Moleskine pocket planner with 2023 embossed on the cover.

Log Book: Moleskine Daily Planner
Since reading about Austin Kleon’s practice of keeping a log of things done (rather than a to-do list), I’ve kept my own. This practice has been simple: right before bed, I write down in bullet points what I’ve done, people I’ve talked to or spent time with, and any major world events.

It’s also been a very meaningful habit: I now have more than two years’ worth of daily memories that I very likely otherwise would’ve forgotten. In 2020, I shared some entries from the pandemic.

Note: This is not a sponsored post, nor does it contain affiliate links. All opinions are my own.

Capturing the Chaos

This is what life has looked like recently: chaotic, unpredictable, and all over the place.

Since I first began art journaling, the pages have been a place to express — first in words, then over the years through marks and color and other symbolism — the ups and downs of my life.

I can open a journal to any spread, and it will transport me to a different moment in time: college, living in Philadelphia, studying abroad. What a gift it is to be able to have that record of a years-long conversation with yourself, to have evidence of your experiences and your struggles and your joys!

Looking Up

One great aspect of storing all my photos in Google Photos is the ability to search through years’ worth by keyword. It helps me notice what I pay attention to.

Here are the past few months of my life, as captured by photos of the sky.

Ode to Summer

The heat in Baltimore has finally broken and it’s under 90°F for the first time in months. It’s lovely — my windows are wide open for much of the day, my cats firmly planted on the windowsills. It’s also a reminder that fall is just around the corner.

When this time of year hits, I spend more time in the present, soaking up every bit of sun and warmth, like Frederick the mouse, and noticing and appreciating all the little things about the season that will soon be a memory. This summer, especially, I am gathering up all the things about this season and this neighborhood.

Change is on the horizon: after five years of living in my current home, this is the last summer I will be here. I want to remember all the little things I have noticed and loved, to remember when it’s cold and dark and I am homesick.

Especially, I want to remember how early summer’s fireflies transition to the late summer sound of cicadas and crickets, and how the goldfinches gather in the thistles in June and July and make their way to the echinacea in August. I want to remember the deer who graze mostly unfazed on the hill behind the new development (and the foxes who played there last winter).

I want to remember the turn of each road, the walks with friends, the little libraries, the impromptu dog park, and how the ghosts of other seasons linger in kinesthetic memory as I pass — snow and holiday decorations, the lilacs and magnolias in bloom, wild cicadas making their 17-year debut in 2021, pumpkins and fourth of July banners.

This is a bittersweet moment. Change always is. For now, I will be present and soak up every moment.

And when he told them of the blue periwinkles, the red poppies in the yellow wheat, and the green leaves of the berry bush, they saw the colors as clearly as if they had been painted in their minds.”
Leo Lionni

First Art Journal

This is the first spread in my first-ever-completed art journal. I dated the page: September 20, 2009.

This journal was a book I bound, made with sturdy colored paper, and was large — 9.5 by 12.5 inches. I decorated the cover with green, yellow, and blue collage with red splatter, and covered that with packaging tape to protect it.

I still have the journal, and I still love many of the pages within it.

My first art journal opened fully to view a green, blue, and yellow cover. There is red splattered accents, a hand-drawn hand pointing, and in ballpoint pen: "Art Journal, 2009-2010, by Ingrid Murray."

The colorful edges of art journal pages.

My style has evolved so much over the past near-thirteen years. In that time, I’ve experimented with acrylic paint, tissue paper, candle wax, stitching and weaving, pockets, flaps, paper towel, image transfers, stamps, staples, found notes, modeling paste, India ink, stickers and the extra white space around stickers, washi tape, white out tape, sewing patterns, and magazine images.

These days, my favorite materials are vintage book pages, graph paper, security envelopes, acrylic ink, oil pastel, and paint pens.

You can see most of my old art journal pages here.