into the journal: phung banh
08
This feature series examines how and why people journal, because no two practices are identical. Appreciating the journal as a sacred inner world for uninhibited wandering and wondering.
If you have a journaling practice that you’d like to share about here, email me at evapberezovsky(at)gmail(dot)com.
phung banh
Hi! I’m Phung Banh, an illustrator, designer, and co-founder of Primary Blooms — a stationery brand rooted in intentional living and creative self-expression. I’m based in Dallas, Texas, where I design journals and paper goods that invite people to slow down, reflect, and make space for what matters. Our products are thoughtfully designed here and proudly printed in Vietnam, where both my family and creative journey began. Instagram here, TikTok here.
origins
I started journaling in middle school using kraft handmade notebooks and gel pens — mostly venting about family and school drama, sketching flowers, or drawing monthly bullet journal spreads. It was messy and unfiltered, but I loved the feeling of getting something out of my head and onto paper to better understand what I was feeling.
In early adulthood, I journaled less. But I found my way back to it in my mid-twenties during a period of burnout. Writing became a tool for self-regulation and clarity — a quiet, private space where I could be both reflective and creative without pressure.
language
I gravitate toward the word “journal” because it feels more spacious and forgiving. “Diary” sounds structured and confessional, like you're reporting events. “Notebook” feels more functional or academic. But “journal” feels like an open container and a place for plans, feelings, sketches, goals, and even nonsense to be together.
routine
I’m definitely a nighttime journaler. There’s something about the quiet of late hours that helps my thoughts settle. I usually write at my desk as a way to close out the day and process whatever’s lingering.
That said, I also journal in the mornings as part of my planning routine. I write quick to-do lists, set intentions, and give myself a calm start before the day begins.
current journals
I’ve always preferred journaling on paper. There’s something about the tactile experience that helps me slow down and feel more connected.
These days, I mostly use journals I’ve designed through Primary Blooms. My current one is The Keepsake Book, which has thick, creamy pages that are perfect for ink, collage, and layering textures. What I love most are the built-in prompts for both writing and scrapbooking. On days when I don’t know where to start, they offer a gentle nudge to help me get something on the page. There’s also a pocket in the back where I tuck dried petals, notes, receipts, stickers — little pieces I can use to junk journal later.
I also use The Essential Planner for my day-to-day planning. I write in it every morning to map out my day, every Monday to set my weekly intentions, and on the first of the month to plan for the weeks ahead. It helps ground me and structure my time.
Then there’s my brain dump notebook. It’s where I go to write freely — just stream-of-consciousness thoughts, messy and unfiltered. It’s not meant to be neat or deep, just a way to clear my head.
Lastly, I keep a small journal dedicated to my Buddhist practice. I use it for prayer, reflection, and writing about teachings that resonate with me. It feels more spiritual and quiet — like a space just for me and something bigger.
purpose
In general, I journal to untangle my thoughts. Journaling helps me process what I’m feeling before I can fully name it. Sometimes it’s for problem-solving — a way to work through an idea that’s still forming. I love doing the “morning pages” practice from The Artist’s Way — three pages of unfiltered writing first thing in the morning.
And other times, my journal is just a soft landing place. I’ll paste in receipts from a matcha date, press flower petals, or write down motivational quotes. It holds everything from mental clutter and grief to small joys, memories, and creative scraps.
evolution
My practice used to feel like something I had to keep up with. That pressure made it feel performative. Now, I see journaling as a toolkit I can turn to when I need it. Some days it’s pages of writing. Other days it’s five minutes of collaging. Letting go of the “right way” to journal has made it feel more intuitive, more joyful, and more sustainable for me.
rereading
I try not to reread! Mostly because I’m a perfectionist. If I look back, I start overanalyzing, critiquing, or wanting to rewrite things. I try to stay present with the practice instead of turning it into something that needs to be “good.” Right now, I focus on the act of journaling, not the archive.
utensil of choice
My favorite utensil is always my Lamy AL-star fountain pen. I love the feel of it, and the ink flows beautifully on the page. It makes journaling feel a little more intentional and a lot more enjoyable.
a recent entry
My last entry responded to a prompt from The Keepsake Book: “A moment that changed everything.” I wrote about getting my employee-sponsored green card — a moment that completely shifted my life.
I was journaling at La Souq, a cozy coffee shop in Dallas with big windows and really good lattes. The sun was setting, golden hour pouring in, and something about that setting made it easier to put it into words.
For five and a half years, I couldn’t see my family. They were in Vietnam, and my sister was in Canada. While I waited for my paperwork, I watched friends hit career milestones, travel freely, move wherever they wanted — and I just had to wait.
Now, that weight is lifted. I can visit my family whenever I need to, without a lot of fear or anxiety. My dad has been battling cancer, and lately, things haven’t been looking good. I’m deeply grateful that I can be there with him when I need to — that I don’t have to wait or wonder if I’ll make it in time. Being able to show up for him and my family now means everything.