Ingrid Murray, Author at Ingrid Murray

Here’s the Thing

Between a pandemic and relentless capitalist culture — and also this question of “What is your quarantine masterpiece?” that still lingers over my head a year into COVID — I am getting increasingly frustrated with the idea of being consistently productive in the face of such overwhelming circumstances.

In his newsletter last week, Austin Kleon shared this video by Ali Abdaal (titled, not subtly, “How Writing Online Made me a Millionaire”). Yes, Ali’s thoughts are interesting and helpful and inspiring…

… but this still emphasizes an end product that is the result of extreme focus, and at this point in time I find it laughably depressing. If you do everything I do, maybe you can find even find your life partner, Ali says in the video above. Okay.

During the pandemic, I have mastered the art of stacking dirty dishes high in the sink. My cats are still alive. Netflix has been nearly conquered. Most of the time, both my day pajamas and the night pajamas are clean.

Sometimes I paint. Sometimes (maybe once a month, if I’m feeling it) I journal.

And most of the time, I feel like I’m failing, wasting time, and that I need to be more productive in order to prove my worth.

So — to Austin and Ali and everyone else who is driven and consistent and has a huge amount of work to show for it: I am seriously impressed. And sure, I am jealous. And I’ll get there someday, but for now, I’m going to keep myself and my furry companions alive and get through as best I can.

Covid & Hobbes: Week 11

Things of Note, 2020

In no particular order, and inspired by Austin Kleon and Malaka Gharib:

Rescuing baby rats from my car engine and a stray cat from my sidewalk. Meeting my neighbors and graciously accepting their help. Adapting to a new normal, zoomies and all.
Reading more than 20 books, including Deacon King Kong, Where the Crawdads Sing, Zealot, Parable of the Sower, and Austin Kleon’s trilogy.
Focusing on my mental and physical health. Shedding 20 pounds. Resuming therapy. Running a 5K.
Reuniting with my fiancé for the first time in 10 months because of the pandemic. Climbing Koenigswinter. Exploring the empty botanical garden in the rain. Playing Secret of Mana. NYE in three languages.
Connecting with other artists. Weekly art nights with Viv. Live art journaling with Katie Licht. Austin Kleon on Zoom. Malaka Gharib zine workshop.
Going on daily walks. Seeing goldfinches on thistle and the Saturn/Jupiter conjunction. Taking an accidental six-mile hike at Lake Roland. Getting to know the neighborhood dogs by sight.
Dad beating cancer and celebrating his 60th. Flying kites on the beach. Orange crushes. Mini golf in masks.
Exploring new interests and establishing new habits. Starting a logbook. Using the Clever Fox planner for the first time. Obsessing over Elvis and learning how to play “Don’t be Cruel” on the guitar.
Seeing my mom for the first time in a year. Bailey. Walking in the rain at Long’s Park. Sharing food on the front porch.
Visiting friends safely. Watching Hocus Pocus on a projector screen outside. Walking with Liz and Micaela. Thanksgiving with the Gramcocks.
Creating COVID & HOBBES and keeping it up for 100 days. Finally finishing the Busy Day Book art journal.
Practicing random acts of kindness. Supporting BLM and those struggling because of COVID. Providing transportation for a stranded family in the middle of July. Helping with a pharmacy bill.
Getting an iPad.
Obsessing over Elvis and learning “Don’t be Cruel” on guitar.
Bearing a long and stressful election season and celebrating its conclusion with friends. Starting the February debate inside sharing food and watching the last debate outside in masks. Taking a walk when the election was finally called, and grabbing food in the evening.
Supporting artists: Emma Howell, Aydin Hamami, Emily Cucalon, Tyler Thrasher, Se7en Captures, Mona Schaffer, Pamela J. Bates, Chocolate and Steel, Stacey Bradley, JennyJen42.
Receiving surprise mail from Jana Clinard Harris. Cards from my stepmom and notes from my cousin. Care packages. Collecting more handwritten notes.
Pre-COVID outings: Dad’s gallery show in York, PA. Seeing Wicked at the Hippodrome. Visiting the History of Black Abstract Art exhibit at the BMA.
Creatively engaging with loved ones from afar. Family games over Zoom. Surprise virtual birthday party planned by my brother. Long calls with Amin. Regular check-ins with elementary school classmates and reconnecting with old friends.
Challenging perfectionism and the fear of starting.

More Creation, Less Perfectionism

The more uncertainty and fear and there is — like, say, in this apocalyptic year — the more I desperately try to hold on to control of anything within grasp. Perfectionism and control go hand in hand; perfectionism, really, is having ultimate control. But that attitude is crippling and focusing on perfectionism stifles everything from creativity to racial justice.

Being human is messy. We’re complicated beings filled with emotion and impulse. It’s how we have evolved, and it’s generally served us well. We are adaptive, creative, and innovative. We’re empathetic and have survived millennia by caring for and leaning on one another. The shiniest bits of this year have been these things.

But we’re also obsessed with “more” and “better”. At its extreme, your inner goblin may be chanting: You’re not special unless you are the best and the brightest and everyone knows it. You are not an artist — and shame on you for having pride in your work — unless you are the most perfect. If you’re not, don’t even try.

Brené Brown is a researcher, author, and decades-long advocate of challenging this inner voice and tearing down the impossible expectations we set for ourselves. She has a whole book about the gifts of imperfection. She says:

Perfectionism is a self destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought: If I look perfect, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame.

But what if we redefined “perfection” as actually leaning into the messiness and the emotion of existence? Maybe perfection is actually showing up as, and celebrating, the whole complicated human you are.

In a heavy, heavy year, art is what will help us process and work through all the worry, fear, frustration, and uncertainty. Art, one of the most ancient human practices, allows us to express all that we feel and experience where words fail. It’s served us for thousands upon thousands of years.

Art is a place to show up as your messy, human self.

You deserve the best, the very best, because you are one of the few people in this lousy world who are honest to themselves, and that is the only thing that really counts. – Frida Kahlo

We may have little control over this pandemic or politics or even our own lives right now, but we can create. We can acknowledge and embrace all that we’re thinking and feeling. We can name our selves and our experiences through the stroke of a brush or the movement of your body or a trembling note that encompasses your own humanity.

And that’s more than enough.