Maybe our site should be called Young Shadowbox Love — I can’t get enough of them. I’ve filled shadowboxes with all sorts of sentimental items: calendars with special dates circled, old keys from previous homes, and pieces of wedding memorabilia. I love the idea of displaying objects that trigger good memories instead of packing them away in a closet where they’re forgotten.
Ever since we started writing our book, I’ve been collecting little reminders of the process. From the very first outline to the final layout, tiny artifacts accumulated: the pencils we used for edits, printed manuscript pages, textured wallpaper samples, fabric swatches, and the small, personalized rock that reminds us of Burger. All of those things felt meaningful, so I decided to bring them together in a shadowbox as a way to honor the whole experience.
One of my favorite bits to save was the editing pencils. They began long, but after hundreds of pages and many rounds of revisions they wore down to stubs. We used different colors depending on which round of edits they belonged to — one color for automated checks, another for our editor’s notes, and a different hue for our own changes — so the stacks of paper that passed back and forth started to look like a chaotic little rainbow only the typesetter could decipher. Over the months, those pencils accumulated marks, nicks, and lots of character, and I wanted that worn look to be part of the display.
At first I thought about arranging just the pencils in the frame, but it felt more special to include other tiny artifacts that tell the full story. I gathered a small selection: a strip of textured wallpaper that inspired the book’s look, a fabric swatch from a project meeting, a postcard that arrived mid-process, and the small rock painted with Burger’s name from a secret project we worked on. Each piece represents a moment in time, and together they make a small, personal timeline.
I already had a 6 x 6″ shadowbox from Ikea, so I trimmed the wallpaper to fit the frame and used a clear-drying glue to secure everything in place. I took care to let the glue dry completely before handling or hanging it — once the box is on the wall, gravity starts to be a problem for anything not firmly attached. The next day, after I confirmed everything was set, I slid the finished composition into the frame and closed it up.
The shadowbox found a cozy spot in our hall bathroom. At first I considered placing it in our hallway gallery of frames, but it seemed more appropriate to give it its own little place of honor. It’s now hung where we see it every day while spending time in that room — it’s where Clara takes baths and practices sitting on the potty, so we naturally spend a lot of moments there. We weren’t worried about steam damaging the contents because Clara’s baths are cooler and we don’t use that bathroom for showers.
Small details in the room also bring me joy. For example, there’s a whimsical bike-patterned towel that was originally bought as a dish towel, but now it works perfectly for drying hands. Little practical touches like that help tie the space together and make it feel lived-in and personal.
Creating this shadowbox was a simple, satisfying way to celebrate a long creative chapter in our lives. It’s an everyday reminder of the months of work, collaboration, and small moments that led to something meaningful. Do you collect little tokens from projects or life milestones? Whether it’s worn pencils, fabric scraps, ticket stubs, or postcards, displaying those small items can turn cluttered keepsakes into a meaningful focal point that tells your story.