"Yellow Teapot, Porcelain Cup" • Oil on Panel • 5x5 inches
“Yellow Teapot, Porcelain Cup” • Oil on Panel • 5×5 inches

I can’t usually find much to say about the day to day activities of making paintings in the studio.

I know it’s something inherently interesting, and people always want to learn more about it.

But to me, it’s just what I do every day, day in and day out, and it all seems perfectly ordinary.

Painting requires a lot of focus and concentration, but it isn’t physically demanding work. I put in long hours, but so does everybody else.

Making paintings is my job, and to me there isn’t anything dramatic about it.

It certainly isn’t a struggle.

Except when it is.

This painting was very much a struggle for me.

It took about 3 times longer than these pieces usually do.

Parts of it were repainted several times, and I spent several days just on the top section of the teapot alone.

It felt like a battle that was never going to end, and one that I certainly wasn’t going to win.

I usually feel a subconscious “click” when I know a whole or part of a painting is done. Once I feel that, I know I don’t have to do anything more with it.

But I never got that feeling with this painting.

Somebody (I don’t remember who) said that works of art aren’t finished, they’re just abandoned. It’s one of those witty remarks that is occasionally true.

It’s not a mystery why this happened.

Lately I’ve wanted to explore new ways of lighting my subjects to create more dramatic compositions, and the lighting was quite different in this painting.

New things mean new challanges.

Solutions that had always worked before suddenly didn’t work so well, requiring different thinking, experimentation, and exploration.

And a lot of slow, careful looking at what was in front of me.

In theory, at least, the difficulties with this painting should make the next one like it easier.

Or maybe that one will be a struggle too…

This article was originally sent to my subscribers, along with my latest painting.  Subscribers see new paintings a week before anybody else.  If you’d like to learn more, please visit my subscription page.

"Yellow Teapot, Porcelain Cup" • Oil on Panel • 5x5 inches
“Yellow Teapot, Porcelain Cup” • Oil on Panel • 5×5 inches

I can’t usually find much to say about the day to day activities of making paintings in the studio.

I know it’s something inherently interesting, and people always want to learn more about it.

But to me, it’s just what I do every day, day in and day out, and it all seems perfectly ordinary.

Painting requires a lot of focus and concentration, but it isn’t physically demanding work. I put in long hours, but so does everybody else.

Making paintings is my job, and to me there isn’t anything dramatic about it.

It certainly isn’t a struggle.

Except when it is.

This painting was very much a struggle for me.

It took about 3 times longer than these pieces usually do.

Parts of it were repainted several times, and I spent several days just on the top section of the teapot alone.

It felt like a battle that was never going to end, and one that I certainly wasn’t going to win.

I usually feel a subconscious “click” when I know a whole or part of a painting is done. Once I feel that, I know I don’t have to do anything more with it.

But I never got that feeling with this painting.

Somebody (I don’t remember who) said that works of art aren’t finished, they’re just abandoned. It’s one of those witty remarks that is occasionally true.

It’s not a mystery why this happened.

Lately I’ve wanted to explore new ways of lighting my subjects to create more dramatic compositions, and the lighting was quite different in this painting.

New things mean new challanges.

Solutions that had always worked before suddenly didn’t work so well, requiring different thinking, experimentation, and exploration.

And a lot of slow, careful looking at what was in front of me.

In theory, at least, the difficulties with this painting should make the next one like it easier.

Or maybe that one will be a struggle too…

This article was originally sent to my subscribers, along with my latest painting.  Subscribers see new paintings a week before anybody else.  If you’d like to learn more, please visit my subscription page.

"Yellow Teapot, Porcelain Cup" • Oil on Panel • 5x5 inches
“Yellow Teapot, Porcelain Cup” • Oil on Panel • 5×5 inches

I can’t usually find much to say about the day to day activities of making paintings in the studio.

I know it’s something inherently interesting, and people always want to learn more about it.

But to me, it’s just what I do every day, day in and day out, and it all seems perfectly ordinary.

Painting requires a lot of focus and concentration, but it isn’t physically demanding work. I put in long hours, but so does everybody else.

Making paintings is my job, and to me there isn’t anything dramatic about it.

It certainly isn’t a struggle.

Except when it is.

This painting was very much a struggle for me.

It took about 3 times longer than these pieces usually do.

Parts of it were repainted several times, and I spent several days just on the top section of the teapot alone.

It felt like a battle that was never going to end, and one that I certainly wasn’t going to win.

I usually feel a subconscious “click” when I know a whole or part of a painting is done. Once I feel that, I know I don’t have to do anything more with it.

But I never got that feeling with this painting.

Somebody (I don’t remember who) said that works of art aren’t finished, they’re just abandoned. It’s one of those witty remarks that is occasionally true.

It’s not a mystery why this happened.

Lately I’ve wanted to explore new ways of lighting my subjects to create more dramatic compositions, and the lighting was quite different in this painting.

New things mean new challanges.

Solutions that had always worked before suddenly didn’t work so well, requiring different thinking, experimentation, and exploration.

And a lot of slow, careful looking at what was in front of me.

In theory, at least, the difficulties with this painting should make the next one like it easier.

Or maybe that one will be a struggle too…

This article was originally sent to my subscribers, along with my latest painting.  Subscribers see new paintings a week before anybody else.  If you’d like to learn more, please visit my subscription page.