Re-direction

De-programming my creative habits

After finishing the painting from my last art post, I was excited to start on the large canvas I set up—the largest I’ve worked with so far.

Because the space was so vast, every aspect of the painting process was magnified—especially the parts I didn’t like, that were frustrating or stressful. I struggled specifically with the accuracy of colors and details, and creating a sense of depth… which is basically most of the whole process.

One of the cool things about this residency program is that I get the chance to meet with a faculty advisor every couple of weeks or so to discuss my work and seek guidance. I mentioned to my advisor the fact that, even though I had set out to not just reproduce photos in paintings, that was exactly what I ended up doing for the first several days of working on this one. She asked me: Do you enjoy realism and striving for accuracy in the painting process? It’s okay to enjoy it and want to focus on that.

I realized I didn’t. Striving for realism was something I felt like was “necessary,” rather than desired. Deep down, a part of me believed perhaps painting something that looks real would demonstrate that I’m capable as an artist; I did it for validation from myself and my imagined audience. In reality, trying to make things look realistic turned my creative process into constant self-criticism, disapproval, and fixing and fixing and fixing. No wonder I struggled with my creative voice; realism created a blockage.

In response, my advisor and I came up with a set of strict rules that would force me to not be able to reach for the same instincts that I usually did, in an effort to de-program this internalized habit. It was like creating a dam for a body of flowing water to prevent its well-worn path and see what alternate route it would take. The rules were as follows:

1. No reference photos

2. No sketching before painting

3. It can’t resemble anything

4. No mixing colors on a palette (though blending on the canvas is allowed)

5. No usual colors

I started with the long vertical canvas that i had created from the trimmings of the largest one. I got new paints that I liked the color of straight out of the tube (or close), which was something I’d never done before since I usually opted for versatile mixing colors. I started off just doing truly randommm stuff, even if I didn’t think it looked “good”. It was definitely uncomfortable but definitely freeing to not constantly feel the pressure of looking to a reference photo and toiling over how the grass isn’t the right shade or the hills don’t look far enough.

After realizing using a big canvas just to “try some random stuff out” isn’t really the most efficient approach, I cut 4 smaller ones, about 6in x 12in each to continue. The first landscape-looking piece does break the rule of “it can’t resemble anything,” but in my defense, I tried specifically to use forms we don’t usually find on earth (flat clouds, concave mountains, gaseous grounds). Forcing myself out of my “realism supremacy” mentality actually allowed me to recall previous explorations that I had brushed away or forgot about because they didn’t fit into what I thought I should value in my work. For example, I totally forgot about the piece below that I made just for fun in October 2025 while pet-sitting, but forms from within the piece started making their way into my current explorations.

Perhaps the biggest lesson in this challenge was realizing that I can’t just brainstorm my way to ideas, because I can’t access all of my ideas in any given state. The act of iteration itself reveals ideas, and there isn’t really any way around it. This echoes what I’ve been thinking about my decision to pursue an art career; all I know is that I’ve felt called to follow this path right now, but along the way, I’m allowing what I meet on this path to point me in the next direction. It might be that I continue with art, but I can’t limit myself to what I see from my current state. I just have to keep doing until more is revealed.