Make Bad Art: How I turned a sketchbook into my full moon ritual

I grew up with the kind of mom who would excitedly tell me to “look at the moon!” all the time - whether it was full, half-full, or just a sliver of a crescent.. Even when I moved across the country for college, she would text me every month to let me know the moon was full.

I’ve always felt the connection to and the magic of the moon, but I never used to make moon water, charge my crystals, or do any sort of moon magic until a few years ago, at a time in my life that was rife with heartache.

I learned that the full moon was a time for releasing what no longer serves me, and I had a long list - feelings of grief, anger, and space in my heart for people that didn't keep me in theirs. I started to make my full moon ritual a priority, originally out of a need to process painful feelings, but eventually, it became a peaceful, reflective time each month.

In a world where I am constantly consuming content - emailing at work, listening to the news, watching TV, scrolling Instagram - my full moon ritual became the one time a month I could count on myself to be still. To turn inward and reflect. To feel my feelings, rather than brush them aside.

However, I found myself gravitating toward the picture-perfect altar set-ups I found on social media. But trying to pursue that for myself every month had me getting overwhelmed and skipping the ritual altogether, missing out on the mindfulness that grounds me every month. This desire for an aesthetic setup or making art with a “purpose” has long been present in my life and has ultimately served as a barrier from me spending time creating.

I decided to sit with that discomfort, and figure out a new path. I grabbed one of my many unused journals just sitting and waiting for me to fill it with “perfect” artwork, and turned it into a safe space for me to be messy, inconsistent, and vulnerable. This shift took my full moon ritual from performative to real, attainable, and satisfying.

If you remember having a Wreck This Journal in high school like I did, it draws from those principles: experiment, embrace imperfection, get messy, and make bad art. All of this is meant to challenge you to overcome perfection, the fear of a blank page, and encourage creativity.

So now, every full moon, I only commit to do two things: I watch the moon rise and I journal. In my journal, I write affirmations, reflections, and gratitude. I rip off a corner of the page, write down something I want to release, and I burn it. I draw. I glue in pressed flowers. I tape in more paper to scribble on. I cross things out. I paint. I make a mess. I breathe.

There are no rules in this journal. Sometimes I do take the time to set up an altar, pour wine, make snacks, light candles, do spellwork, and spend a couple hours journaling. Sometimes, I simply manage to write one single sentence. It is inconsistent, imperfect, and strangely vulnerable.

Essentially, I hope your takeaway from this is that you can make your ritual however much or however little that suits you one month at a time. There is no one correct way to experience the magic of the full moon, nor does it demand perfection. In fact, making very imperfect, “bad” art is an excellent way to release the thoughts and emotions you carry.