For many years, I have championed the idea that practice makes better. I recently saw something to add to that from James Clear, author of Atomic Habits. “Two simple rules: 1.) You get better at what you practice. 2.) Everything is practice.”
Sometimes, with my art, I wonder if I’ve improved and, if so, how much. There are days when I feel like I’ve grown in leaps and bounds and other days when I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten how to paint entirely. But knowing that it’s all practice is such an encouragement, Even the paintings that go directly to the trash are practice. The sketches, studying, reading, and observing all add up. My animal painting improves my still lifes. My still-life painting improves my color mixing. My color mixing improves my landscapes. And everything I do from photography to writing to decorating to gardening is all a part of practice.
In most cases, getting better is hard-won, not because it’s difficult but because it takes persistence. You have to show up regularly and do the things that aren’t glamorous. You have to push through the plateaus, put in the time when you feel uninspired, and keep plugging away, trusting it will all add up. Growth is slow and steady.
The good news is, this doesn’t have to be daily, but just regularly enough. More often than not.
So, let me share some of my past work and the painting I just finished a few days ago. This orange still life was done in 2023.
While I do like the practice of painting directly from life, I always take pictures of what I’m looking at in case I want to revisit it later. So, I printed up the picture and decided to try to paint it again. Since the first one was painted less than two years ago, I wasn’t sure if I would see much of a difference. Here is the one I finished a few days ago.
If I scroll between the two, I can see my drawing is more accurate and I captured the depth of the still life better. In the 2023 version, I sort of flattened things out. I can also see that my color mixing and transitions have improved. Overall, it’s a similar style, but a bit more refined.
So, let’s go back a bit further…
I painted this still life in 2022 for my Alla Prima class with Jeanne Oliver...
And I painted this one last week…
Again, I can see my drawing and color mixing are better. I’ve gotten particularly better at painting more nuanced whites. But, I still think we’ll see more growth if we go further back…
The next two were painted in 2018 for my 100 Oil Stills series. I finished painting 100 landscapes for the 100 Meadows Project and I felt like I needed to focus on painting from life. This was just the focused practice I needed to work on my observation skills and to show myself that I didn’t need to rely on photos.
I didn’t paint this exact photo again, but a variation of it with blackberries instead of blueberries. It’s also on a linen towel with a crease instead of a flat white foamcore board.
When I look at the comparison, the handling of the whites is the area of growth that smacks me in the face. I’m also more comfortable with letting the darks be really dark. I used to struggle with that.
I think I saved the most dramatic evidence of growth for last. This was number 20 in the 100 Oil Stills Series from 2018…
And this one was painted a couple of days ago…
Do you see what I mean about the handling of the whites as well as being comfortable with darks? I can also see how much better my drawing is. The word that comes to mind when I compare the two is sensitivity. I’m more sensitive to the changes in color and light and I know better how to express it with paint. I’m not only painting better, but I’m seeing better.
I want to point out that when these two still life paintings from 2018 were painted, I had been painting in oils regularly for about a year and had completed over 100 small paintings. Yes, you see growth after 10, 20, 50, and 100 paintings, and I did, but the growth compounds and becomes more noticeable as you get into the hundreds and then thousands of sketches and paintings. If you feel like your fifth painting stinks and isn’t what you want it to be, well, welcome to the club of being a beginner. If you enjoy it and it’s something you want to pursue, keep going.
I haven’t kept track of my painting total, but I think it’s safe to say I’ve painted well over 1,000 paintings. Even with all of those under my belt, I’m still studying, reading, and learning. I’m still not satisfied with the level of my work. I still see so much room for improvement, so I will keep painting and keep practicing…
19 Responses
Wow, your last example of the transferware cup and clementine is just a striking difference indeed! Your latest version of the scene is what I would call more of a Realist look.
In all of these comparisons, it isn’t that one of the paintings is “good” and the other one “great,” but rather that they are both just stylistically different, and either one could be enjoyable depending on what style one is after.
You’re definitely painting darker and with less detail.
You have certainly improved; not to say the first paintings were not good. Refined. Plus your art sells out in no time. I used to draw a lot but put it aside. Now that I’m almost an empty nester and have more time, I’ve been wanting to get back to it. I’ve also been wanting to do your online classes. Winter is a nice time to burrow in and be busy inside.
I can see a big difference too. Personally, I prefer your older paintings because the colors brighter and more vibrant and the details are clearer. The newer still life paintings are darker and the details look blurry and not as crisp as before. But that’s the great thing about art – everyone has their own style. I admire your art journey and wish I had the time to paint as often as I’d like.
Love the older ones, but the new ones…wow! Especially the clementine. Has a very old world feel!
Please make the last painting available as a print… It is beautiful!!
I can see how more refined your newer creations are but I have to admit I love the originals . I think it’s the brightness of them or is it just the pure charm.
Thank you for showing this. I painted in high school decades ago and have wanted to do so again. I didn’t think I would be able to remember enough to make it worth trying, but now, after seeing how much difference a few years can make, maybe I could. If I am willing to try. I really appreciate how you were willing to go outside of what felt comfortable and allow the darks to be dark. Thank you again. It encouraged me greatly.
Wow! Just wow! My goal this year is to have fun doing crafts, watercolor and needle felting. Since I don’t have your rigor with practice, I can’t expect your leaps of improvement, but I can hope for some change for the better.
Wow! I can see the differences. The brush strokes seem so much less obvious and def more lifelike renditions of the objects. Bravo for your tenacity!
Will you be selling the pics?
I would be interested in a small dark blueberries.
Yes, all of the new ones will be available in my next original art sale later this month.
WOW
Thank you so much for being so real and sharing both levels of your work. It has to be an encouragement to all of us.
Happy New Year!
My plan this year is learn to embroider, and work on as many different mediums I can get my hand into! Marian, do you have a blog of when and how you decided to jump from painting furniture and sewing to painting still life, landscape etc with oils. Did you enrolled in classes?
I am in awe of anyone that can paint. Your last one is my favourite. I asked my daughter the other day if she can teach me how to paint, don’t hold much hope for myself. My artistic skill is cooking.
I’ve followed your painting journey and was fascinated to watch the growth in just the first series of 100. this was such an inspiration. I love the last one. For me, it is always the play of light in a painting that pulls me in.
Your new work stands on a surface. The bowl is round. The fruit has light spots but also shadows, giving it depth. Well done <3
What a beautiful message for the artists and learners in all of us. This reminds me of a phrase I heard some years ago which I think applies specifically to photographers (as admirers can often say, “what a lucky shot!”) but applies to many things in life: The more I practice, the luckier I get.