I started a curiosity jar because I wanted a gentle way to collect the small, interesting things that otherwise drifted away in a busy week: a funny word overheard at a café, a scrap of torn wallpaper that had a great pattern, the memory of a scent that made me think of childhood. What began as a glass jar on my kitchen shelf has become a creative ritual that turns tiny discoveries into months of playful projects and surprising insights.

What is a curiosity jar (and why it works)

A curiosity jar is exactly what it sounds like: a container where you drop notes about things that catch your attention. But it's more than a physical object—it's a habit designed to sharpen attention and nudge you from passive noticing into active making. Psychologically, it uses two simple moves that make it powerful:

  • Externalising ideas: Putting something in the jar frees mental space and makes the idea feel more tangible, increasing the chance you'll revisit it.
  • Ritualised revisiting: Scheduling a time to open the jar turns curiosity into action, transforming scattered sparks into deliberate projects.

    • What you'll need (very little)

    You don't need fancy tools. I started with a Mason jar, some sticky notes, and a pen. If you prefer a digital approach, Evernote or the Notes app works just as well. Here are options depending on how tactile you like to be:

  • Glass jar or tin (Mason jars are inexpensive and pretty)
  • Small slips of paper or Post-it notes
  • A pen or a pack of colourful gel pens for variety
  • A small box or accordion folder if you want to sort notes by theme
  • Optional: a notebook like a Moleskine for longer thoughts

    • How I capture curiosities — a simple daily practice

    I keep the jar within sight—on my kitchen shelf—in part because visible prompts are the best prompts. Whenever something piques me, I write a single-line note and drop it in: "ask Ana about her hand-dyed scarves," "weird plant in the corner of the train station," "recipe: lemon & thyme shortbread." The note doesn't have to be tidy; it's a trigger, not a finished idea.

    Here are the kinds of notes I find most useful:

  • Questions: Who made this? How is this made? Why is this tradition still around?
  • Small observations: A colour combo I liked, a word I didn't know, a smell that felt nostalgic
  • Micro-project seeds: "mini-photo series: lampshades," "try fermenting carrots"
  • Resource reminders: book titles, podcast episodes, a shop name

    • Turning notes into a routine

    Not every slip becomes a project—and that's okay. The goal is to curate, not hoard. My routine is deliberately low-pressure:

  • Weekly: Every Sunday I empty the jar and skim the notes. I sort them into three piles: do this week, save for later, and maybe never. The do this week pile usually contains 1–3 ideas.
  • Monthly: On the first Saturday I pick one bigger seed from the jar to be my monthly curiosity project. I block 2–4 hours across the month to explore it—sometimes it's a photo walk, other times it's a small DIY or recipe test.
  • Quarterly: Every three months I review saved notes and pull out a theme for a more involved project (mini-exhibition, zine, longer research, or a road trip).

    • Project ideas to get you started

    When you open your jar, deciding what to do next can feel overwhelming. Here are practical, approachable project formats that fit well with tiny seeds:

  • Micro-experiment: Try one variation of something—bake three versions of the same cookie to test ratios, dye one scarf using a local plant, or photograph the same street at different times of day.
  • Mini-essay or micro-blog post: Pick a curiosity and write 300–500 words. I started many Discoverblog Co pieces from these short reflections.
  • Photo series: Collect five images around a single motif—door handles, mismatched chairs, shadows on walls.
  • Swap or share: Turn a find into something to give—postcards made from prints, a small jar of homemade chutney, a playlist inspired by a place.
  • Make a zine or mood board: Collage notes, images, and snippets into a physical booklet for a tactile keepsake.

    • How to schedule without killing curiosity

    The trick is to keep things light. If you turn curiosity into a strict to-do list, it stops feeling like play. Here are some scheduling tips I use:

  • Limit: Choose one monthly project and one weekly micro-task. Too many commitments kill momentum.
  • Time-box: Commit a fixed block of time—90 minutes is enough to learn something new or produce a small outcome.
  • Ritualise the opening: Make the jar-emptying itself enjoyable—brew tea, light a candle, play music. Rituals not rules.

    • Adaptations: for kids, couples, and solo organizers

    I've used the curiosity jar with friends, and it's charming with kids. For children, use pictures and stickers, and let them draw as their notes. For couples, make it a shared jar and plan a monthly date around the chosen seed. For solo folks who like digital tools, try a dedicated Evernote notebook or a Trello board with columns for captured, queued, and doing.

    Practical tips that keep the habit alive

  • Be specific on the slip: "Interesting craft" is less useful than "local basket weaver's instagram @username".
  • Use colour-coding: Different colour notes for ideas, resources, and tasks help when you empty the jar.
  • Set a visible deadline: If something is time-sensitive, write the date so it pops out.
  • Keep a tiny camera or use your phone: Sometimes an image is the best note—you can print and fold it into a jar slip later.
  • Don't aim for perfection: The point is discovery, not a polished result.

    • Example 12-month map

    MonthSeedProject
    Januaryword I love: "sonder"300-word reflection + postcard series
    Februaryold recipe cardtest and adapt into modern shortbread
    Marchstreet shadow photosfive-image photo series
    Aprillocal herbalist tipsmall tincture experiment (safely)
    Maypattern on a tilestencil and print on a tote
    Junesong stuck in my headcurated playlist + short note on why
    Julyfound postcardmini-zine about the place
    Augustflower press specimenbookmarks or framed mini-art
    Septemberfavourite market vendorprofile interview
    Octoberold map fragmentcollage and map-inspired print
    Novemberhandwritten recipedocument family variations
    Decemberyear's favourite slipscompile into a scrapbook

    When a project fizzles — how to pivot

    Not every seed will sprout. If a chosen project stalls, I either scale it down (from a full essay to a simple note) or set it aside in a "maybe later" envelope. The jar is forgiving: what felt dull in spring can feel irresistible in autumn.

    If you're curious to try this on Discoverblog Co, think of the jar as a companion to the things I write about: small curiosities, approachable experiments, and unexpected perspectives. Whether you use a tactile jar on a shelf or a digital notebook, the aim is the same—notice more, collect more, and turn a year of tiny finds into a richer creative practice.