This morning I ended up showing to my dad the art of other students I had been in the same art classes. Particularly I really like the recent series of Jarrod Bai who has done some nocturne paintings in oil. Then I also told him about the pencil work of Leo whose work I also admire.

My parents have always been supporters of my artwork. I always find it interesting how much they enjoy seeing my creations, and how much that must make a difference in a child’s life.

While they may not be great art connoisseurs, the expression of praise and liking my creations went a long way to me continually working and improving. It is those little words that ultimately make a big difference in the end, no matter what work you are making.

The discussion from the morning somehow helped me to just sit down to work on something.

Getting over paralysis

There is this moment that is always challenging to start a piece. Today, I scrolled through the reference photos I collected. As I was reaching the end, I started realizing my inaction to start was propelled by my flipping through photos, looking for that “inspiration” or connection to a piece to my mood that day. Nothing came.

Somehow, I told myself it didn’t really matter which one I had tried starting, just to pick one. I ended up picking one that didn’t seem too challenging, which was a wall with lanterns. The “ease” factor somehow helped. Maybe I dread making something that I fear will look “bad” in the end.

Getting over the awkward teen phase of the painting

In every watercolour, there’s this in between phase. The beginning looks great, when you’re still inspired with your vision of how it will look.

Then it goes downhill. It’s full of second guessing. This is because the mid-tones don’t have the full contrast the end will have. Everything kind of looks maybe washed out. It’s the point where it’s very tempting to go over areas you’ve already worked on, muddying up sections.

Alternatively, it’s where I’ve abandoned paintings, ideas that seemed good but then really seemed to go in the wrong direction.

Over time, I’ve learned to quiet the critic that is screaming for me to give up. It’s a little bit of faith that if I just keep working on it, it will be ok. If I brace through that valley – just like the moments of where life appears to be dark and hopeless – then I come out to the other side, not only breathing but doing better than I imagined.

Embracing the fear of “ruining” the painting

In today’s painting, it turned out better than I expected. I was reminded of the Toronto Watercolour Society workshop I took recently online on waterfalls. One of the reminders was to not be afraid to add many dark paints.

It was much easier during the class as the teacher kept talking about the many layers and concentrations of paint he was mixing. When on my own, I had to embrace the fear that some parts were too dark.

It’s the acceptance that actually contrast is one of the best parts of the painting. For that to work, you have to have significant differences in values (light and dark) so the right parts pop.

The end result of the painting is a positive feedback loop. Being happy with the result makes me more inspired to start the next day.