Last week, I talked to you about finding new inspiration in the skies of the Eden Valley. I described the excitement of inspiration and shared some photos like the one below.

But the most important part of getting inspired is the part that comes next. 

It's the part where you take that initial spark and fan the flames so that it becomes something more than just an idea. And from my teaching, I know that this is where people sometimes fall down. They know how to get excited about something but they're not sure how to nurture that small seed into something that takes on a life of its own.

I think the biggest issue is that many of us try to jump from spark to finished series of paintings. We've decided there's something we want to express, so we begin immediately trying to express it. But this is like hoping a baby will become a fully grown adult without going through any of those difficult stages on the way. No terrible twos, no grumpy teenage years - just baby into grown adult overnight!

Of course that cannot happen in life and it cannot happen in art. You have to nurture your idea as if it was a child. You have to feed it the right nutrients and set boundaries and teach it how to exist in the world. And you can't do it all alone - you need the help and wisdom of others. 

So what does this look like in practice?

I think it's different for every artist but I find I have to take a very unstructured, loose approach at the beginning of a body of work. I have to be willing to allow the idea to be whatever it will be. It might grow into something wonderful or it might fade away, leaving nothing but a memory of my excitement.

And if it does grow, I have no idea which direction it will take, so I have to allow the freedom for growth in any direction. Initially I will experiment with a number of different approaches. I'll work in sketchbooks and on paper and on wood panels and on canvas. I'll paint large and small. I'll use various media ... most likely mixing and matching in all sorts of different ways.

(Some artists do this experimentation on their boards or canvases which is equally valid - it's just not how I do it).

I won't be trying to make pictures -  I'll be trying to make discoveries. I'll be testing out things that most likely won't work. I'll make things that are ugly and things that are boring. I'll mix up colours that clash and try compositional elements that fall flat. None of that will phase me because I will at this stage I am not attached to the outcome. I am simply curious about the next experiment.

At some point, I will start to clarify my ideas a little bit. I'll keep choosing what works and discarding hat doesn't until I have an approach and a set of chosen materials and maybe even a colour palette or two. Only then will I start to make paintings that I think might, one day, if I'm lucky, turn into something that other people will see.

Making art this way is a slow process, but it gives you a solid foundation. It means that you have a sense of direction and clear boundaries for your paintings. It means you know when something is done (because you know what you were aiming for) and it means you can speak confidently about your work for the same reason.

As I said, you might work on paper as I do, or you may start immediately on canvas, but what you MUST not do is start to try to make 'good' things immediately. Because by doing that, you shut of all the wonderful possibilities that exist, and you limit your own growth and development. 

Last week I urged you to make space for inspiration. This week I'm urging you to make time for experimentation. Both are vital if you are to fulfil your potential as an artist.