Postscript: this was written in early April, 2022. The entirety of the text was already here, with the addition of the words “Law of diminishing returns” at the bottom. As with my recently shared poem, I’ve decided that “old” work should either be scrapped, repurposed or shared.

And no, the irony is not lost on me that I left a post about accepting not finished art not finished for nearly two years.

You can’t beat that feeling of beginning a new painting: the idea, the exhilaration, the conviction. The warmth of the sun grazing over your right shoulder, the light beaming onto the work that has yet to be developed, the reference photo gleaming from a screen, the same brief playlist on loop, the blank yet brightly underpainted canvas. Learning to paint and calling myself an artist is a challenge that is foreign, new, and intoxicating.

Through beacoup books (far too many, if we’re being honest) I’ve accepted that goals are accomplished through a means of daily actions. Got it. I lift every day and I’m stronger. I moisturize and use retinol and glycolic acid on alternating nights and my skin looks better. I stretch and I get closer to whatever preztel-y yoga pose I’m aiming for. I’m mindful about eating and see results. I take my vitamin D supplement in the morning and I don’t go batty (more on that another day). Check, Check, Check.

Painting isn’t so crystal clear–the progress isn’t as linear. You can wake up one day in a bad mood, ignore all of your more pertinent responsibilities and create a painting that completely surpasses your expectations, decide that clearly you have a talent and begin to prepare yourself for amping up productivity and following up with a business plan–only to find out that you aren’t necessarily going to replicate that quality on the regular.

…not that this oddly specific scenario happened to me, or anything. But if it did, it probably would have happened as a result of this painting of wildflowers I did last June:

I can’t even tell you the painting I completed directly after this one. I have a hunch, but I’m pretty sure I’ve excluded it from the “Portfolio” file in my iphone images and I certainly removed it from the wall.

Why isn’t my painting improving?

If this is what you’re asking yourself, don’t fret! It’s not that you’re not as good of an artist as you were when you completed your last work. It’s not that your “favorite” painting was a fluke, either. There are so many variables in painting that an amateur is bound to fall short of their own expectations.

The quality of painting can suffer due to:

• not being intentional with color palette choice
• the dimensions of the canvas being different from the dimensions of the reference
• poor color/s chosen for the underpainting
• too little effort put into “drawing” the lines of the painting before the painting gets started, throwing off dimensions or leaving too many questions unanswered too late in the work
• inconsistent brush use
• too few brush options due to other brushes not being clean
• disregarding the importance of where the viewer’s eye will move as they view a work, and neglecting to add or omit features from the reference accordingly
• an attempt to “fix” a mistake leads to inconsistent brush style throughout the work
• coming to the painting with too much underlying stress
• coming to the painting with the wrong mindset
• rushing the painting
• overworking the painting–trying to “fix” too much, resulting in more issues
• bringing a different mood to the painting between sessions, internally or externally (through music or lighting)
• attempting something above your skill level (which is good) but expecting the result to be as good as a past work (not so good!)
• choosing a reference photo that doesn’t resonate deeply with you
• leaving too much time between sessions and losing the continuity of the painting

These are all issues I’ve run into–time and time again. I’ve found that the last one, leaving too much time between painting sessions, is my biggest downfall due to the impressionist style of my work, so it’s my number one rule in regards to painting:

An average sized impressionist painting shouldn’t take more than a few days to finish.

The master impressionists often worked en plien air, in one session. The reference was gone tomorrow and the light was changing minute by minute, so it was crucial to complete a work with a quickness that is difficult to replicate if you’re not recreating that hurried way of painting–hurried, yet not rushed!

Other issues that arise if you’re spending too much time on an impressionist painting:

• paint dries on canvas, so sections that are “okay” in the moment become texture set in stone
• paint dries on the palette, so colors must be remixed
• if the same precise color isn’t created when remixing, you’ll have to work the new color throughout the painting to make it look cohesive
• you lose the zest you brought to the canvas when you first sat down for the painting
• without zest, you’re left with: work. completing a work of art without the zest that lead you to the canvas turns a work of art to another task on a to-do list

Quitting is okay

One of my recent works, Downtown Fairfield Connecticut, was faced with many of the issues that can arise with a painting that I listed above. Stress, time, poor planning, mindset–it ticked nearly all of the boxes. I didn’t give up on it because I hoped if I powered through, it could be in line with two of my other favorites, that I’ve yet to share in their own individual posts:

I powered through the painting, and I’m glad I finished it because I confirmed what I already knew: you can’t fake the effortlessness that is hallmark to an impressionist painting.

Give up already

Ha! Look, I’m not trying to turn myself into a demotivational speaker, but I am advocating for giving yourself some grace. Whether it’s an impressionist painting or another creative endeavor, don’t find yourself mimicking Sisyphus pushing a rock uphill. A painting is never finished, after all—so listen to your intuition: are you having trouble with a work, or have you already learned all that you can from it?