Your Journals This Week: 6 Pages That Reminded Me Why This Community Matters

Hey friend,

I spent yesterday morning flipping through the pages you've shared with me — screenshots in DMs, tags on Instagram, comments with descriptions of what you made. And I kept thinking: this is why I do this.

Every single journal is different. Every approach is valid. Some of you are making these gorgeous layered spreads with professional watercolors and vintage ephemera. Some of you are working with a ballpoint pen and a notebook from the dollar store. Both are perfect. Both are yours.

Let me show you what I mean...

@messy_pages_maria

Maria shared a spread she made after a hard therapy session — blues and grays washed across the page, with the words "still here" written small in the corner. She said she cried while making it. The page is simple, almost stark, and it's one of the most honest things I've seen this week. Maria, thank you for trusting us with that.

@artandcoffee_jen

Jen's page is the opposite — layers on layers, collage from three different magazines, paint pen doodles over everything, a tea bag glued in the corner. She captioned it "I just kept adding stuff until it felt done." That's exactly how art journaling works. No plan, no pressure, just adding until it feels right.

@quiet_lines_sam

Sam sent me a photo of a page with nothing but thin black lines — geometric shapes, some straight, some wobbly, filling the space like a meditation. They said they can't do "messy" art, it stresses them out. So they don't. They do this instead. Sam, you're doing it exactly right. Your journal doesn't have to look like anyone else's.

@retired_and_creative

This reader (who didn't share a handle) emailed me a photo of her first journal page — EVER — at age 68. She used crayons. Actual crayons from the grandkids' art box. She wrote "I don't know what I'm doing but I liked the smell of the crayons." FRIEND. That IS the point. The smell, the feeling, the not-knowing. You're doing it.

@paint_splatter_alex

Alex made a page that looks like a disaster — paint everywhere, words scribbled out, a magazine cutout of a fish for no reason. They almost didn't share it. Then they remembered I show my messy pages, and they hit send. Alex, this is my favorite kind of page. The ones that don't make sense yet. The ones that just needed to exist.

@gentle_journaler_taylor

Taylor's spread is delicate — pressed flowers, soft watercolor, neat handwriting quoting a poem. It looks "pretty" in the traditional sense. But Taylor told me they made it during a panic attack, and the carefulness of it helped ground them. Gentle and slow is just as valid as wild and messy. Whatever your nervous system needs.

What I Notice When I Look at All of These Together

None of them look alike. None of them followed a "right" way. Some took 10 minutes, some took hours. Some used expensive supplies, some used found objects. Every single one was honest.

That's the thing about art journaling — it's not about the page. It's about the making. The sitting down. The putting something on paper. The permission to not know what you're doing.

If you're reading this and thinking "my pages don't look like any of these" — good. They shouldn't. Your journal should look like you.

Want to Be Featured Next Week?

Share your pages — messy, pretty, weird, simple, complicated, colorful, monochrome, whatever. Tag @artjournalblog on Instagram, comment below with a description, or DM me directly. I feature beginners, experienced journalers, and everyone in between.

There's no selection process. I don't pick the "best" ones. I pick the ones that show the range of what this practice can be. Your page is part of that range. I promise.

Keep making. Keep sharing. Keep reminding each other that there's no wrong way to fill a page.

— Renna