Author: Ingrid Murray

Ingrid is an American self-taught mixed media artist and art journaler living and working in Germany. This website is human-generated.

Things of Note, 2022

A grid of twenty photos taken throughout the year. They include: a tabby cat; feet of a bride and groom on cobblestone; a orange wall and bikes; several notes; one of which says "You can do hard things"; a pine tree that looks like it's giving multiple middle fingers, and an arm and hand giving the middle finger back to the tree; a purple flower; the sign at Pike's Market in Seattle; a pile of mixed media ICAD cards; a stone with the message "Sing for joy" written on it; a digital collage; a backlit orange flower; the sign to the German embassy; a very happy sleeping cat; the ocean; red autumn leaves against a blue sky; board game pieces; details of a mixed media piece; a storefront at the beach; river ice; trees in fog.

As I wrote in my December newsletter, 2022 was a year of extremes. I feel like I’ve seen the bare bones of life: joyful new beginnings and bittersweet endings, the importance of community and togetherness, and the knowledge that nothing lasts forever.

  • The highlight of the year, by far: getting married in a perfect, intimate ceremony in Denmark. DIY wedding dress alterations. A surprise send-off. Hives of anticipation! Burgers in Copenhagen. Calling my mom while getting ready. Swans. Sushi. Cake. Family calls + screenshots. The very best weekend that has sustained us for an entire year.
  • Deepening friendships and leaning into belonging and unconditional love. Ani’s kindness and support. Fake tattoos and Schitt’s Creek. Bethany Beach. Wing night. Madeline at the splashpad. Reconnecting with old friends. Chimney swifts. Assateague. Dinners with my crew. Art-making at R. House. AVAM.
  • Rituals and habits: family game days. Art nights with Viv. The second full year of using a logbook. Running. Blogging daily for a whole month. Visiting the deer. Keeping a commonplace book. 1SE for an entire year. Learning to slow down, and remembering that small, consistent actions are the key to sustainability.
  • Our wedding reception in July. Seattle. Kayaking. Trash talking over MarioKart. Celebrating with family and friends; wedding speeches. Visiting Grandma. Smartfood and flirting and escape attempts.
  • Challenging lows. Biopsies and scary medical news and surgery. “Wait to panic.” Two grandparents diagnosed with cancer. Waiting and waiting and waiting for a visa. Packing up a whole home. Losing a perfect apartment.
  • A rich year of art, including two finished two art journals. Out of Order. Joan Mitchell exhibit at the BMA, twice. ICAD. Doing a collaboration with Max Devereaux. Being a featured artist for Under the Influence Art Journaling. Making so many new connections with artists online and in person.
  • Building new skills, including Photoshop and Illustrator. Playing with digital collage. Trying out Mastodon (and loving it). Launching my newsletter. Learning to use a Gelli plate.
  • Witnessing loved ones’ highs and lows. Pets traveling over the rainbow bridge. Multiple relationships ending. Mom’s 60th birthday. Ani’s wedding. Dad’s new kitten. A surprise promotion. Remembering that life is deeply precious and equally precarious.

Past year reflections.

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Top Nine (2022)

Here are my top nine most loved posts on Instagram this year:

A three-by-three grid of nine square Instagram posts. Two images are index cards with mixed media; six are open mixed media art journal pages; and one is the spine of a handmade art journal with a map cover.

And here are my own top favorite posts:

A three-by-three grid of nine square Instagram posts. Two images are index cards with mixed media; the rest are open mixed media art journal pages.
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Darkness Before the Dawn

Today is the winter solstice — the shortest day of the year, with more than 14 hours of darkness.

After today, the light returns.

These past few months have been a struggle. There are 4,000 miles of distance between me and my husband. I am waiting for a visa while clearing out a home, with no real timeline for a final move. Time stretches before me endlessly and, at the same time, I’m unable to plan anything more than a few weeks out.

Several friends have also been waging their own personal battles. Kids and marriages and divorces, health challenges, healing from trauma, so much stress and anxiety. After two (almost three?!) years of a pandemic, we’re all exhausted.

“I appreciate that we can be messes together,” I texted friends tonight. And it’s true. Having friends that show up messy, who love you through your messes, are everything.

But from here, it gets lighter. I’m holding on to that.

My quarterly newsletter goes out on the first day of each season. Read the winter 2022 issue — and sign up, if you like — at ingridmurray.substack.com.

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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.

A salmon pink Clever Fox planner with a fox logo on the cover.

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.

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