I've always felt that my watercolor travel journal is the one thing I absolutely cannot leave behind when I'm packing for a flight. Sure, I've got my phone and a decent camera, but there is something fundamentally different about sitting down on a crumbly stone bench in a quiet piazza and actually looking—really looking—at the way the light hits a building.
When you take a photo, it's over in a fraction of a second. You click the button, maybe check the exposure, and move on to the next landmark. But when you're trying to capture a scene with paint, you notice the weird shade of turquoise on a shutter or the way the shadows are actually a deep violet rather than just grey. It changes how you experience a place.
Why you should bother with the extra weight
I know what you're thinking. Packing is already a nightmare with baggage fees and tiny overhead bins. Why add a book and a tin of paints to the mix? Honestly, it's about the memory. I can look back at a page I painted three years ago in a rainy cafe in Edinburgh and I can almost smell the coffee and damp wool.
A watercolor travel journal acts like a physical hard drive for your sensory memories. Because you spent twenty or thirty minutes focused on that one spot, your brain encodes the experience much more deeply than it does with a digital snapshot. Plus, it's a great way to kill time during a long layover or a train ride through the countryside.
Putting together a kit that won't annoy you
The biggest mistake people make is trying to bring their entire home studio with them. I've been there, lugging around a giant wooden palette and fifteen different brushes, only to realize I only used two of them the whole time. If your kit is too bulky, you won't pull it out.
Keep it small. A pocket-sized tin with 12 half-pans of paint is usually more than enough. You don't need every color in the rainbow because you can mix almost anything from a basic warm and cool set of primaries.
The magic of the water brush
If you haven't used a water brush yet, it's going to change your life. It's basically a plastic brush with a refillable water reservoir in the handle. You just squeeze it slightly to dampen the bristles. It eliminates the need for a separate water jar, which is a total lifesaver when you're painting on a cramped airplane tray or a windy beach. No more worrying about knocking over a cup of dirty blue water onto your white jeans.
Choosing the right paper
Don't cheap out on the journal itself. You want something with at least 140lb (300gsm) paper. If the paper is too thin, it'll buckle and warp the second you touch it with a wet brush, and that's just frustrating. Look for "cold press" if you like a bit of texture or "hot press" if you prefer a smooth surface for detailed pen work.
Getting over the "blank page" anxiety
There's nothing more intimidating than a brand-new, expensive-looking watercolor travel journal with crisp, white pages. It feels like every stroke has to be a masterpiece. Here's a secret: it doesn't.
In fact, some of my favorite pages are the ones where I messed up the perspective or the colors bled together in a way I didn't intend. To get past the fear, I usually dedicate the very first page to "scribbles." I'll swatch my colors, test my pens, and maybe write a quick note about where I bought the book. Once that first page is "ruined," the pressure is off.
Start with a light sketch
You don't have to dive straight in with a brush. Use a light pencil—something like a 2H—to block out the big shapes. Don't worry about every tiny brick or leaf. Just figure out where the horizon is and where the main subject sits.
If you're feeling bold, you can skip the pencil and go straight in with a waterproof ink pen. I love using a fine-liner first and then "coloring in" with the watercolors. It gives the journal a classic, illustrative look that's very forgiving if your painting skills are a bit rusty.
It's more than just landscapes
A lot of people think a watercolor travel journal has to be full of sweeping vistas and architectural wonders. It really doesn't. Some of the coolest entries are the small stuff.
- The label of a local beer you tried in Prague.
- A quick sketch of the weirdly shaped pastry you had for breakfast.
- The pattern of the floor tiles in your Airbnb.
- A ticket stub taped to the corner of a page with a wash of color behind it.
Mixing media is a great way to fill space and make the journal feel more personal. I often find myself writing notes in the margins about things I heard or how I felt that day. It turns the book into a hybrid of a diary and a sketchbook.
Dealing with people watching you
This is the part that scares most beginners. If you sit in public and start painting, people will look. Most of the time, they're just curious and will give you a quick "that's nice" before moving on.
If you're shy, wear headphones. Even if you aren't listening to anything, it sends a signal that you're in the zone and not looking for a long conversation. But honestly, I've met some of the most interesting locals because they stopped to see what I was drawing. It's a natural icebreaker that transcends language barriers.
Finding the time to actually do it
We've all come home from a trip with an almost-empty journal because we were "too busy" seeing the sights. The trick is to stop trying to make every painting a three-hour epic.
Set a timer for 15 minutes. Capture the essence of the place, throw down some color, and call it done. You can always add details later when you're back at the hotel and winding down for the night. The goal is to capture the feeling of being there, not to create a photographic replica.
Using your phone as a backup
If the weather is terrible or the spot is just too crowded to sit, take a quick photo. You can use that as a reference later in the evening while you're sitting in bed. It's not quite the same as painting on-site, but it still counts toward your watercolor travel journal. It's your book; there are no rules.
Keeping things clean on the go
Watercolor is relatively tidy, but it can get messy if you're rushing. Always carry a small rag or a few paper towels. You'll need them for dabbing your brush or cleaning off your palette before you snap it shut.
If you have to close your journal while the paint is still slightly damp, stick a piece of wax paper or even a plain tissue between the pages. It'll stop the paint from sticking to the opposite page and ruining your previous work.
The best souvenir you'll ever own
At the end of the day, your watercolor travel journal is for you. It's not for Instagram (though you can certainly post it there), and it's not for an art gallery. It's a messy, colorful, imperfect record of your time on this planet.
When you get home and the jet lag finally wears off, flipping through those pages will take you back in a way that scrolling through your phone's camera roll never will. You'll see the smudge where a raindrop hit the page in London, or the slightly wonky line where someone bumped your elbow in Rome. Those imperfections are what make it real.
So, next time you're packing your bags, toss a small sketchbook and a travel set of paints in your carry-on. You might find that the time you spend painting is the highlight of your entire trip. Just start somewhere, keep it simple, and don't worry about being perfect. Happy painting!