Ingrid Murray, Author at Ingrid Murray

Art Journal FAQs

What type of journal do you use?

I make my own art journals. They measure about 4.5×6 inches (11×15 cm) and are filled with watercolor paper. They’re simpler to make than it looks; the only special materials you need are chipboard, an awl, and waxed linen thread. Check out the tutorial I use here.

In the past, I’ve also used thrifted books or handmade books by other artists.

What supplies do you use?

I use many different kinds of paper for collage, from graph paper to security envelopes to vintage book pages to other things I’ve collected over the years. For adhesive, I use a regular glue stick.

When adding color, I use a variety of mark-making tools, acrylic paint, tempera paint sticks, and acrylic ink.

What is your process?

Lay down some collage
Scribble
Add some paint
Add some drips

I always let the wet media fully dry before adding new layers.

How do you take and edit photos of your work?

I take photos with my phone in natural light, placing my art on a white foam core board. I used to edit the shots with A Color Story, but it stopped being usable. Now I use Snapseed. Both apps are free.

More questions? I’d love to hear from you. Reach out through my contact page or on Instagram!

“To Feel” List

There are just 30 days left in 2022.

This entire year has sped by; it feels like it should still be May or June. I am focusing on spending this final month as intentionally as I can. This means slowing down, paying attention, and being mindful.

Somewhere on Instagram, I saw the suggestion to create a “To Feel” list. (I can’t remember where, unfortunately. I need to jot down more in my commonplace book.) I love this idea because it helps to clarify not just what we need to do, but how, or even if, we want to do it.

My “To Feel” list includes:

Confidence
Wonder and curiosity
Delight
Pride (in both my choices and accomplishments)
A sense of safety and belonging
Peace and groundedness

Now, I’ll backwards plan and prioritize decisions or events or opportunities that spark these feelings.

This process will be helpful going into the new year, too: centering your values, and assessing to what extent your current life overlaps with them, is a useful tool for goal-setting.

This, Too, Shall Pass

An out-of-focus photo of a dark room and a window.

This time of year is so difficult. It’s dark, it’s cold, and the holidays bring all sorts of mixed feelings. On one hand, there’s the promise of joy and charity and togetherness, and on the other the reality of rampant consumerism and the unrelenting pressures of maintaining a veneer of cheerful holiday spirit, no matter what.

Remember to breathe. Remember to find ease. Remember that your own reality is, in fact, real. Find moments of peace wherever you can.

This, too, shall pass.

Wild Things

Lately, my art has skewed more maximalist and energetic. Even when abstract, it’s impossible to separate oneself from one’s work: the joys, concerns, and experiences seep into the process. As Jackson Pollock said: “Art is coming face to face with yourself.”

Impermanence

I’ve been thinking a lot about how nothing we share online is guaranteed.

We take it for granted that our Instagram posts will be there to refer back to years later, or that the connections we make on Twitter will last no matter how many times the company changes hands. But really, like everything else in life, change is a constant and nothing is promised.

Over more than a decade, I’ve built a little community of online friends through social media who are kind, generous, and talented artists. There’s Jana Clinard-Harris and Tammy Garcia and Hanna Andersson, who have inspired me and challenged me and encouraged me for years and years. I’ve bought art from Aydin Hamami, Pamela Bates, Emma Howell, Courtney White, and Reneesha Wolfe. I’ve exchanged materials and art with Erin Knepp and Anna Okrasinski Maddox. I did a collaboration with Max Devereaux and joined Under the Influence Art Journaling thanks to a social media introduction.

In short: the connections we make online are real and meaningful and wonderful, and also, due to the nature of social media itself, vulnerable.

I carved out this corner of the world, this website and my newsletter, in part to “own” a little bit of land on the internet. No matter what happens with my accounts elsewhere, this is my home. I’ve also dipped my toes into Mastodon in hopes that a decentralized system may allow for online connections for a longer period of time.

With all that’s going on in the digital world right now, I encourage you to preemptively seek out and save the names and websites of those whose art or virtual company you enjoy. Join their mailing lists. Share yours, too.

(Now, there’s always a chance that everything online will disintegrate at some point, but that’s why I have a paper journal, too.)

Edit: “What happens when the world’s knowledge is held in a quasi-public square owned by a private company that could soon go out of business?“