Why I Don’t Want to Learn Watercolor

As you might know, I’ve been doing some daily sketching for the past few weeks. It’s a simple practice that I usually do in the mornings, working mostly from life, sketching in ink, and adding color with watercolor paints.

It’s quickly become one of my favorite parts of the day. I’ve never had a daily art practice that felt this welcoming, enjoyable, or easy to come back to. And as I’ve been doing it every morning, I’ve had a funny realization: I don’t think I want to learn watercolor.

Let me explain.

I’ve used watercolor paints for quite a while now, mostly as a way to add color to paper. I have a great admiration for watercolor artists. To me, it feels like an intimidating medium to use properly because there aren’t many places to hide your mistakes. And when it comes to painting, I make a lot of mistakes. So I have a great appreciation for artists who work in this medium and for artists who want to learn it.

As I’ve been doing these daily sketches, my brain does what it always does. It starts questioning everything. Am I supposed to paint this way? Is this good or bad? Should these colors be mixing together? Maybe I shouldn’t add splatters to every sketch because people might think they look messy. Do real watercolor artists do it this way?

Normally, thoughts like these have a way of taking over and messing with my practice. Let me tell you, they certainly do when I’m oil painting. But with these little sketches, my brain quiets pretty quickly. The questions fade away. I’m not worried about doing it right or wrong. I’m just happy to be doing it. And I think it’s helped me make more art too.

And that’s when it hit me. I don’t want to know how to do this “right.”

Before you misunderstand me, I should probably say this: I love learning. If I had unlimited time and money, I would spend most of my days traveling to art workshops, learning from artists I admire, and hanging out with other creative people. It has honestly become one of my favorite things!

Most of the workshops I’ve taken have revolved around oil painting because that’s the medium I’ve chosen to study most seriously. I work in a variety of mediums and enjoy them all, but oil painting is at the top of my personal hierarchy. For now at least.

Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about color, values, edges, brushwork, composition, and all the techniques that can help create a stronger painting. I genuinely enjoy becoming a better painter, and I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.

But all of that knowledge also comes with something else. When I’m oil painting, those ideas are always running through my head. I’m constantly evaluating, adjusting, and wondering if I’m making the right decision. And it gets even more overwhelming when there’s conflicting advice because every artist paints differently and has different ways of achieving a good painting.

That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s simply what happens when you spend years intentionally studying a craft and care deeply about the results.

And that’s really the heart of this post. It isn’t actually about not learning watercolor. It’s about protecting curiosity and giving yourself one place in your creative life that isn’t focused on improvement or mastery. It’s about allowing yourself to remain an amateur on purpose and holding on to that childlike wonder of making art with zero expectations.

I have a tremendous appreciation for watercolor. It just looks a little different. For me, watercolor has become the place where I don’t have to know all the answers or understand all the traditional techniques.

I can simply take what I’m looking at, put pigment on paper, make strange marks, let colors run together, add splatters, overwork things, and see what happens. Sometimes the results are beautiful, and sometimes they aren’t. But I’m able to enjoy the process without caring quite so much about the final result.

Lately, I’ve realized that I spend enough of my creative life trying to improve. I don’t think every creative practice needs to carry that responsibility. And maybe not every practice should.

The more something matters to us, the more we feel like we should get better at it. Somewhere along the way, play can quietly turn into pressure.

I don’t want that to happen here.

I’ve spent years intentionally studying oil painting, and I hope I never stop learning. But I think there’s room for something else too.

Maybe that’s the reminder I’m trying to give myself and offering it up to you as well. Not every creative practice has to become another thing to improve, perfect, or master. Some things can simply be a place to play, experiment, and stay curious.

Maybe one day I’ll decide I want to formally study watercolor. Maybe I won’t. But for now, I’m perfectly happy putting a little pigment on paper every morning and seeing what happens. And perhaps this loose and playful approach will seep into my practice in other mediums. I can only hope.

Is there something in your creative life that you intentionally don’t want to master because you love it exactly as it is? I want to know all about it. Leave a note it the comments below.