Art Journal With Me: Making Peace With the In-Between
Can I show you something?
I sat down with my journal this morning and didn't have a plan. The light was coming through the window in that late-February way — pale, tired, but trying. That's how I've been feeling too, if I'm honest. Winter isn't quite done with us, but spring hasn't quite arrived either. We're in the in-between.
I made a spread about that.
Art Journal With Me: The "In-Between" Page
This isn't a tutorial with perfect steps. This is just... what I did. What felt right. Maybe some part of it will feel right to you too.
What I Started With
I grabbed my Strathmore Visual Journal (the 5.5x8" one — it's travel-size and I love it) and flipped to a blank page. I didn't like the blankness. It felt too expectant. So I did what I always do when a page feels too clean: I made it less clean.
I took a water-soluble graphite pencil and scribbled some loose, wandering lines. No shapes, no objects. Just movement. The graphite went down gray and dusty. I liked it immediately.
Adding Color (Without Thinking Too Hard)
I had three watercolors out from yesterday's mess: a dull ochre, a muted sage green, and this weird brown-gray that I never know what to do with. Perfect for late winter.
I wet the page in sections and dropped the colors in. Let them touch. Let them fight a little. The ochre pushed into the green. The gray settled in the corners like shadow. It looked like the view outside my window — brown grass, bare branches, that particular light that isn't golden yet but isn't gray anymore either.
I let it dry while I made coffee.
The Collage Layer
While the paint dried, I went through my ephemera box. That's just a shoebox where I throw interesting scraps — receipts, ticket stubs, pieces of packaging, fortune cookie fortunes, anything with texture or words.
I found a piece of a brown paper bag from the bakery down the street. It had a coffee ring on it already (not from me — it came that way, which felt like a gift). I tore it into an irregular shape — not a rectangle, something with teeth and soft edges — and glued it down with a glue stick.
The coffee ring landed right in the center. I love when accidents become the focal point.
The Words
I wasn't planning to write anything. But the page felt like it wanted language, so I listened.
I picked up my white Gelly Roll pen and wrote around the coffee ring, spiral-style, following the stain:
"Nothing is blooming yet. Nothing is dying either. We're all just... waiting. And that's okay. The in-between is still a place. It still counts."
Some of the words got swallowed by the dark paint underneath. That's fine. I know what they say. The partial visibility feels right for the theme — some things still hidden, not quite ready to be fully seen.
The Finishing Touch
I almost stopped there. But I noticed the empty corner in the upper right, and it felt too empty. So I took a ballpoint pen — just a cheap Bic from the jar on my desk — and made some small marks. Dots. Tiny circles. Little seeds of something that hasn't sprouted yet.
That's the page.
It's not my best work. The composition is unbalanced. The colors are muddy. If I posted just the photo without context, people might scroll past. But I don't care about any of that, because:
The process of making it helped me feel less anxious about being in my own in-between season.
That's the whole point.
What You Might Try
If you want to make your own "in-between" page, here's what you could do:
Start messy. Scribble, smudge, or stain the page before you "officially" begin. Break the perfectionism before it starts.
Use colors that feel like right now. Not the colors you wish it were. The colors it actually is. Late winter might be ochre and brown and that strange blue-gray of snow about to melt. Or it might be something completely different where you are.
Find one piece of trash. Seriously. Something destined for recycling. A receipt. A wrapper. A torn envelope. Give it a second life on your page.
Write what you're not saying. The thing you're sitting with. The feeling that doesn't have a name yet. Spiral it, hide it, let it peek through.
Stop when it feels done. Not when it looks done — when it FEELS done. Those are different things.
Supplies I Used (With Budget Alternatives)
Strathmore Visual Journal 5.5x8" mixed-media:
$12-18 at most art supply stores. Budget alternative: Canson XL mixed-media pad ($8-12) or literally any notebook you already own.
Water-soluble graphite pencil (I use General's Sketch & Wash): ~$2-3 each. Budget alternative: Regular pencil + water — scribble, then paint over with clean water. Same effect.
Koi Water Color Pocket Field Sketch Box: $25-35. Budget alternative: Prang watercolor set ($8-12) or even Crayola watercolors (~$5). For this technique, they work beautifully.
Gelly Roll white gel pen: $2-3. Budget alternative: Uni-ball Signo broad white gel pen ($2) or skip it entirely and use a ballpoint pen over light areas.
Glue stick: Elmer's washable, ~$3-4 for a pack. Any glue stick works. Don't overthink it.
Total for this page: If you bought the budget alternatives, you could make this spread for under $20 in supplies. And then make 50 more.
Before You Go
I want to say something about the in-between times. In art journaling, and in life.
We always want to be in the interesting part. The blooming, or the beautiful decay. We don't love the waiting. The almost-but-not-yet. The "I don't know what's next."
But the in-between is where we actually are, most of the time. And there's something sacred about acknowledging it. Putting it on a page. Saying: "This counts too. This is real. This is where I am."
Your journal doesn't need to be full of pretty things. It needs to be full of true things. Even the true things that feel messy and uncertain and not-yet-ready.
So if you're in an in-between season — with your art, your life, anything — I hope you make a page about it. Not to fix it. Just to witness it.
There's no wrong way to fill a page.
What does your in-between look like? Share if you want to. Or just make the page for yourself. Both are good.
This post contains affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend supplies I genuinely use in my own journals.
Art journaling is a wonderful self-care practice, but it is not a substitute for professional mental health care. If you're struggling, please reach out to a therapist or counselor. You can call 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline) anytime.