What Does My Art Need From Me?

This is a question I’ve been reflecting on recently. I already know that I need to focus on what feels good and avoid what doesn’t. I need to allow room for experimentation and play — something I now teach others as well.

But lately, I’ve been digging deeper to understand what truly makes my art work, and what causes it to fall short.

Let me start by saying that these insights will likely be different for everyone. What works for me might not work for you. Still, I think you might find value in the ideas behind my new approach.

Much like developing your own style, discovering your art process requires a lot of experimentation and trial and error.

But it also requires something more — a deeper understanding of the "why" behind your art. Why do you paint? What drives you? What are you hoping to communicate? Who are you trying to connect with? What do you want people to think, feel, or wonder when they look at your work?

The clues to these answers are scattered in many places: in what you read, what you watch, what you do, what you photograph, what you wear, and what you talk about. They are present in your previous work and in the art of others. Which pieces speak to you, and why? Whose art do you love, and what draws you to it? Often, these reasons can be traced back to your childhood. But more than anything, they are revealed through the act of creating itself. The more you create, the more you discover about yourself. And the more you discover, the better you can cultivate the right environment for future work.

For a while now, I’ve known that I want my work to be raw, authentic, and expressive. I don’t want any visible traces of overthinking. (Of course, I’ll always be thinking — but I don’t want it to show.) I want to transfer my feelings directly onto the canvas, without letting my brain filter or interfere.

I think this desire stems from a lifetime of people-pleasing. I’ve always admired people who "say what they mean and mean what they say." For most of my life, I’ve said whatever would keep the most people happy. It’s something I’m getting better at, but I know overcoming people-pleasing will be a lifelong process.

That’s probably why I crave honesty and rawness in my art. I want to strip away all the filters and simply express how I feel. Of course, that’s easier said than done. My tendency to "prettify" things or make them less offensive often ruins paintings that were on the right track.

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about how my process can support this desire. How can I ensure that my inner people-pleaser doesn’t interfere?

I’ve come up with a few ideas... I plan to work on multiple paintings at once, expand my palette, and make more space for color mixing. Most importantly, I want to apply paint in ways that defy control.

Depending on what you want from your art, you might reach different conclusions — every artist does. But the key is understanding your "why."

That’s what unlocks all the other decisions you need to make.