The Surprising Place I Find Inspiration

For years I’ve kept a studio journal. This is a place where I can record any ideas or realisations that come to me; where I can record my changing tastes; where I can think through any challenges; and where I can record my journey.

I know journaling isn’t everyone’s favourite thing. In fact, when I teach it in my course, I often sense a little resistance.

I understand it. Truly. If writing isn’t your natural language, being told to make lists or scribbling down thoughts can feel like yet another task.


But here’s the thing: the more I paint and the more I journal, the more I see that life and art are inseparable. What happens in one affects the other. Every day in the studio is also a lesson in how I live, and every page of the journal seems to echo back into my art.

This year in Find Your Joy, I recommended that students begin a list of likes and dislikes - in art and in life. A couple of people felt this was a pointless exercise as they already knew themselves well enough. And yet, that’s exactly the trick our mind plays on us: we think we know, so we shortcut the thinking process. We don’t believe we have anything left to discover.

But the act of writing so often reveals something hidden … a forgotten passion; two seemingly unrelated things that suddenly click together; a thought that had been waiting in the wings, ready to spark an entire body of work.

Just the other day, I had a significant personal epiphany simply because I sat down and wrote a few words about what had happened in the studio. Nothing complicated. Just noticing. And in the noticing, something unlocked.

A few days before, I sat and made a list of the things I am currently responding to in other peoples’ work. Just a list of words - it didn’t take long. But in writing the list, I sparked the realisation that some of those elements were missing from my own, and I started to play with ways to bring them in. 

These ideas wouldn’t have happened without writing in my studio journal. Journaling unearths truths that we would otherwise skim past. Without it, we risk sailing along the surface, never diving into the depths where the real treasures lie.

Journaling also helps us uncover the root cause of blocks. I can wrestle with an issue for weeks in my studio, but if I take it to my journal, things quickly become clear. SWe hold so much wisdom inside us, but I find I can’t access it just by thinking - for some reason. The act of a pen moving across paper releases answers in a different way.

Finally, my studio journals also provide a record of where I’ve been. I can look back and see how I have changed, and how my ideas have developed. I can also flip through looking for clues to what might come next. In this way, my notebooks become a trusted creative partner.

So if you don’t currently journal about your creative process, I recommend giving it a go. Sometimes I use sketchbooks and sometimes i just use a simple note book like this one.

Often I paste in images of my work in progress or images of work that inspires me. Sometimes I paste in quotes that make me think. But often the pages are just filled with writing, doodles, and drawings of my dog.

The type of book is not important. They way you use it is not important. All that matters is that you find your own way of reflecting on your work and your process. It will be an endless source of inspiration, clarity and comfort.

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