My Artistic Process

How I Paint

A blank canvas. The most exciting or terrifying aspect of being an artist!

How it is transformed into a finished artwork is called an artist’s “process”: their well-worn methods of preparation, set-up, equipment, timescale and methodology. I thought it might be interesting to share mine?

Generally speaking, unless it’s a commissioned artwork, my initial inspiration about WHAT to paint comes from the Scottish landscape. When I can, I make provisional drawings “plein air”, so my sketchbooks are often rain-splattered and wind torn. I like using either indigo chalk, charcoal or watercolour pencils to start so I can move the marks around with a wet brush.

I sketch a scene over and over again, and take hundreds of photos, so that once I’m back in my studio there’s a muscle memory of the line of a horizon, or the colours of autumnal trees.

By the time I’m sitting in front of that blank canvas, I try not to look at those photos or sketches again, instead painting the scene from memory so that I can better capture what has remained with me.

The feel of the landscape, not the recreation of something photo realistic.

Most of my paintings are on stretched canvas, or canvas-covered board, so that’s where I begin first outlining, then blocking-in colours. Liquitex or Golden acrylic paints are my go-to, they’re expensive but worth it for the thickness of paint and depth of colour.

I love the surprises that can come at this stage: the unexpected dribbles or smears can add extra interest and uniqueness.

Each layer needs to dry, so I often work on several paintings at the same time to avoid any sludge and keep the colours fresh. My natural impatience means I will likely never be an oil painter: too much drying time in between layers!

Next, it’s adding fine details: a sunbeam reflecting off a wave, a smear of pink in the sky, or hint of purple heather on a hillside.

The final stage of my art process is the one I often struggle with (and I know I’m not alone in this!). The “is it finished yet?” question is enough to drive many artists round the bend!

If you’ve read one of my posts on Instagram this week you’ll see that I was recently reminded that Peter Howson once confessed to a friend of mine - at his OWN lifelong retrospective at the City Art Centre in Edinburgh, no less - that he was itching to whip out his paintbrush to make some improvements to some of his works on display….

And so, the blank canvas - once daunting - becomes something else entirely. A container of memory, mood, movement.

A place where the colours of a hillside or the curve of a distant shore are reimagined through the lens of feeling rather than fact.

For me, finishing a painting is less about perfection and more about peace: a quiet moment where the work feels whole, and I can finally step back and say: “yes, this is what I wanted to share.”