This project started quietly.

I began coloring as a way to get through the winter. Short days, long nights, and a lot of screen time for work made me crave something slower and more tactile. Coloring gave me that. No pressure. No outcome required. Just time and focus.

Eventually, I had a growing stack of finished coloring pages. Bright florals, layered patterns, bold colors. They were complete, but they also felt unfinished in a different way. I didn’t want to store them. I didn’t want to frame them. And I definitely didn’t want them sitting in a pile.

So I started turning them into journals.

From Coloring Pages to Covers

Instead of treating each coloring page as a final piece, I began using them as material.

I chose my favorite pages and cut them down to size for covers. Some stayed whole. Others were trimmed, layered, or paired with subtle textures. I added a protective finish and bound them with plain paper inside.

The contrast is what I love most.

Color and pattern on the outside.
Clean, simple pages on the inside.

It feels balanced.

The Binding Process

I have a small binding machine now, and honestly, that changed everything.

There’s something incredibly satisfying about lining up the pages, punching the holes, and watching a loose stack become a finished book. Each journal is sturdy, functional, and completely one of a kind.

No two covers are the same.
No mass production.
No rush.

It’s hands on in the best way.

Why I Use Plain Paper Inside

I intentionally keep the interior simple.

Plain paper leaves room for anything. Writing, sketching, lists, notes, journaling, or absolutely nothing at all. The journal doesn’t tell you how it should be used.

That feels important.

As someone who lives very clutter free, I don’t love excess. These journals are meant to be useful, not precious. They’re meant to be written in, tossed in a bag, folded open, and lived with.

Giving Them Away

I give them to family and friends.

Each one feels personal, even without customization. The cover carries color and care. The inside stays open for whoever receives it to make their own.

It’s a small gift, but a thoughtful one. Something made by hand. Something that started as a quiet winter habit and turned into something shareable.

A Different Kind of Creativity

Most of my creative work is structured. Strategic. Designed with purpose and deadlines.

These journals are different.

They’re slow.
They’re imperfect.
They don’t need approval.
They don’t need a plan.

They exist because I wanted to make them.

And sometimes, that is more than enough.