At Appointed, the tools we make are only half the story. The other half is how our Notebooks and Planners find their way into real creative lives. In the Making is a new series about the people who bring Appointed into their process, from artists and designers to anyone who plans by hand. Each feature steps inside a creative's world and the small rituals behind their craft.
First up is Laura Naples, an abstract painter in Cleveland, Ohio, and a friend of our Senior Graphic Designer, Lauren. Laura begins nearly every day with morning pages in The Workbook. Here is how she makes her work, and her days.
Tell us about your work and how you'd describe what you make.
For more than a decade I’ve primarily focused on painting in abstraction: works about wonder, unseen mysteries, and how to access them. More recently, I’ve become interested in how art, words, and energy carry messages, and in the felt experience of being the sender and the receiver. I’m developing a project, Evidence of Hand, with another artist, Sarah Lesher, in which we explore, practice, and share the art of modern correspondence.
The links between these modes closely mirror my fascinations since girlhood, including painting and drawing, books, stationery, sanctuary, and movement. I extend this investigation into my local community in my work with Peg’s Foundation and Gallery, where I help visitors experience art that sparks reflection and deepens connection around mental health.
Walk us through what a typical workday or studio session looks like for you.
I’ll “arrive” by lighting incense and pausing for a brief moment—sometimes in guided meditation, other times just stillness with my breath. Then I turn on music (I make monthly studio playlists) or a podcast (if I want to learn: creativity, spirituality, energy work, the mind; if I want to laugh, it’s Good Hang with Amy Poehler).
Then I can attend to the project of the day, whether a commission, new series, or writing task. I keep some blank sheets of paper or small canvases nearby to work out half-baked impulses and use up excess paint or ink in playful experimentation. I work for about an hour at a time, take a break for perspective, then return again. I often sing and dance along to music while I work, which brings me out of my head and into my body.
Where does planning or writing things down fit into your process? Is it functional, ritual, or both?
Writing is an essential part of my creative process. The pages reveal questions, answers, themes, and how I make sense of the world inside and outside of me. I take this information, which tends to be more cerebral, and apply it through mark-making and material selection, which is gestural and sensory. In a synthesis, I find my desired expression.
I begin most days writing morning pages by hand in my Workbook. This stream-of-consciousness ritual clears the cobwebs from sleep and is something I look forward to; it gets me out of bed. I write while I drink coffee and eat breakfast, my favorite meal of the day. Then I carry the Workbook along with me, using it to sketch, plan, or record something notable. The entries are dated to serve as a chronological record of my thinking and feeling. I reference these often to recall previous dates or seasons, so I keep each book once it’s full. I have a stack of Workbooks (always Natural Linen or Dove Gray) dating back to 2020.
At the end of the day, I’ll often reach for the Workbook again and make a list called “THE GOOD”, in which I reflect on what I’m grateful for or learning. Here I capture synchronicities, surprises, and blessings so I train my attention toward noticing them more.
Is there a specific point in your process where you reach for a notebook or planner rather than a screen?
Hand to paper is how I prefer to begin and end each day, and start out each week. I reach for the Weekly Task Pad on a Sunday or Monday to plan the week, a ritual called Hour One that I learned from a coach, Sindy Warren. I go through my digital calendar and transcribe by hand any appointments, tasks, or notes—always in pencil, so I can rewrite if necessary. Then, I tear off the sheet for the week, fold it in half, and tuck it inside the Workbook.
What does your workspace look like, and how has it evolved over time?
Currently my dining room is my painting studio until I find my next space. My daughter just left for college, so I’m using a work table in her bedroom for drawing, calligraphy, and making stationery. I have a vintage writing desk in my bedroom dedicated to writing morning pages, correspondence, and narrative experiments. I compose my two Substacks, Laura Naples Studio and Evidence of Hand, on my laptop at my kitchen table. I’m also writing a guidebook about returning to letters in the digital age, which I like to do at a nearby coffee shop, to tap into a social creative current. Since my tasks are so varied, the intention is that the different atmosphere of each location helps me focus on what’s in front of me.
Are there objects, tools, or rituals you consider non-negotiable to how you work?
My Muji ballpoint 0.38mm pen is a non-negotiable tool, and it fits perfectly inside the spine of the Workbook so I’m never without it. On my writing desk I like to have Micron pens in varying widths, a black LePen, a Muji fine point mechanical pencil, and a Blackwing pencil. Aside from that, I always have water, coffee, or herbal tea. Also, I’m becoming dependent on my readers so I have a growing collection of those, too.
How do you think about the relationship between structure and spontaneity in your creative practice?
I have to be open to both, experimenting with structure while allowing spontaneity. I work in bursts of sudden creative impulse (I’m a Manifestor in Human Design.) Yet as a professional creative I have to always be in the process that supports being ready when that happens: at the canvas, at the work table, at the desk. Right now, working from home and having access to those entry points is one way I keep structure and spontaneity integrated. When I’m working at the gallery, I tend to use my Workbook to record any urges, then revisit them when I come home to my creative spaces.
Who or what is currently inspiring you?
I generally look to people who are older or younger than me for inspiration—they seem to have perspective on what’s true and worth emphasizing. I reference artist Michele Oka Doner on how to lead with wonder and craft a life. My fiancé and I are reading Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird as a compassionate and funny writing teacher. My grandmother inspires me as a lifelong letter writer (and of course, I connected with the fictional Sybil van Antwerp from The Correspondent.) My children are both entering new phases of independence, and showing me new levels of courage, openness, and kindness. I’m inspired when I see someone who cares deeply, directs their attention deliberately, and shares their inner nature bravely.
Begin your own ritual
What stays with you from Laura's studio is how she dedicates herself to little rituals alongside her creative practice. The incense, coffee, dated entries: each one is a small way of showing up before the work does.
That's the idea behind In the Making, and the tools that support it are meant to be used exactly this way. If Laura's practice resonates, start with a Notebook or Workbook for morning pages and free-form notes, then add consider the Weekly Grid Planner to plan the week ahead. Explore more in our Notebooks and Journals collection, and stay close for the next studio in the series.
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