Since I took Louise Fletcher’s free Find Your Joy mini-course, I have been obsessed with abstract painting. It’s a style of painting I thought would be forever out of my reach. It looks easy but to be good, it’s incredibly hard. In other words, making good abstract paintings takes lots and lots of practice.

That’s the key to any art practice. Practice. Play. Rinse. Repeat. Look for alternative tools to make marks. Set limitations with color or time spent on a painting. Pay attention to what feels good. Find out what you like and what you don’t like. All of these things help shape your visual vocabulary and unique style of painting (whether it’s abstract or representational).

Which leaves me in a sweet spot. I have a lot, I mean a lot of paper scraps in various weights, textures, and degrees of whiteness to practice painting on. They’re in odd sizes that won’t work for standard frames or large compositions so I don’t feel like I’m wasting precious paper.

What’s fun and delicious is to start with a scrap of watercolor paper that already has some paint and marks on it. I can layer more paint and marks, giving the painting more depth and texture. (I save the smallest scraps for working out a color palette for a painting as well as testing out techniques on a tiny scale. I don’t want to waste too much time on a theory that won’t go anywhere).

I do get a little serious in the beginning. I tape the sides of the paper scrap so that when I am finished I have a clean border around my mini-painting. Even though this is pure experimentation and not what I call “real paintings,” I could show, I still want the finished exercise to feel like a completed piece. That’s just me.

What I love about abstract painting is that it’s visual storytelling like no other. That story will be unique to everyone who experiences that painting. You may feel what the artist was feeling. There is the story the artist tells through color, shape, line, and gesture. Then there is the story you tell that comes from inside looking outward to the painting on the wall. You both, artist and viewer are changed in the exchange. That’s the beauty of art.

SMALL ABSTRACTIONS: Two quick examples of mini-abstraction paintings I did this week. They were done in half an hour each, yet I feel like I’ve accomplished something. I’m certainly learning as I go along.

ABOVE LEFT: Divide and Transplant. All the feelings I feel when I very carefully re-pot a house plant or divide overgrown plants in my garden. I equate the divide and transplant experience of plants with medical surgery. I hold my breath, trying to reduce the amount of trauma for both of us.

ABOVE RIGHT: Caught In A Rainstorm During Rush Hour. Ever been stuck in a downpour, with thunder and lightning crashing overhead as your windshield wipers are frantically keeping pace with your pounding heart? When an event like this happens (rarely, that it does, thank goodness), I am so grateful for the red tail lights of the cars ahead so I can see where I am going.

Your Turn.

Have you found a new artistic love lately? Are you looking to try something new creatively? If so, please, I would love to hear about it, including hesitations, successes, frustrations, and joys. I respond to all.

If you like what you see, please be kind and share!