A Little Trust

This year I was determined to face my greatest weakness...

My use of color.

If you’re like me, color is wildly intimidating. There are posts and videos everywhere explaining color theory, but it felt like a massive puzzle that I just couldn’t put together. So I tried what the great artists of the past did. I painted studies.

My first gouache study

I found fair use images online, printed them, and did my best to match the colors, values, and composition. Gouache was actually perfect for this. It has this magical ability to move, lift, and reawaken like watercolor and yet the ability to be fully opaque. The sticky paint wasn’t temperamental like acrylic, it didn’t betray every mistake like watercolor, and wasn’t as intimidating as oils. It was the perfect medium to experiment with. And I started slow, delicately.

I can see the fear in that first painting. The distrust of myself. The composition was imperfect, because I was too worried about what colors to choose. The colors are too cold and vibrant. But I was determined to try again.

And as time went on, I chose more challenging reference pictures. I pushed myself, challenged myself to make them identical. Just because I could. The colors grew steadily more accurate, the composition clearer.

Getting closer now

And somewhere along the way I realized I wasn’t bad at color-matching, I just didn’t trust myself to do it.

But the studies taught me about how to use warm and cool colors and how to balance value.

My instincts were good. If there was a rocky mountain in the distance, I would think: light, so white. Rocky, so brown. But distant, so blue. Then I would question myself. White, brown, and blue? That sounds like a strange combo. But I would try it, and it would work. These little steps of gently trusting myself made me realize so much of my fear was holding me back.

I just love the vibrant reds in this

The filming was holding me back too. I used to film myself every time I painted, but that habit died when I had my babies. My art studio became Winter's room, and I lost my beautiful backdrop.

These days I take a picture at the end if I’m pleased, but otherwise, there are no other eyes in my studio.

Just me.

The invisible eyes judging, urging me to hurry, make it interesting, make it perfect, when really this was the moment I needed to slow down. I threw them away. When I took those eyes out of the room, I slowed down.

I learned when I had kids that we have to make our own time to relax and take it easy. The time we've set aside to make art shouldn't be corrupted with little cameras watching. At least, as much as we can help it.

I still have a lot to learn, but I’ve discovered the skills I need to trust and the skills that still need some support.

I encourage everyone to test themselves, challenge themselves, and face your weaknesses head-on. You may find you’re not as weak as you thought.

See more little landscapes