From Old Growth 2026

The passing of each year brings new lessons and growth! My creative practice has a way of teaching me things I didn’t expect. When I sit down with my paints, I often find clarity, growth, and inspiration from unexpected pathways. Here are 5 of the most important things I've learned from my painting practice last year.

1. Limiting Supplies Sparks Creativity

I often catch myself thinking that having more tools will automatically make my work better. But I’ve learned that limitation actually invites deeper creativity. When I give myself fewer options, I experiment more freely and with greater intention.

By sticking to one brush, a limited palette, or just a few familiar colors, I’m forced to truly understand how they interact. I learn how to mix, blend, and create depth with what I have, rather than reaching for something new. That focus almost always leads to work that feels stronger and more cohesive.

I like to remind myself of this when painting simple colour studies using only three colors, like a soft white, blue, and a touch of Paynes Grey. Keeping the palette restrained helps me understand my pigments better and sharpens my sense of color harmony.

When I feel stuck, I return to this practice. I choose three paints and make a few test swatches, just to explore their range. Each time, I’m reminded that fewer choices often bring a surprising amount of freedom.

2. Relaxing instead of Rushing

My best work doesn’t come from rushing, it comes from rest. I’ve noticed that creating under pressure rarely brings out anything meaningful, especially with watercolor, which responds best to a calm and steady mindset.

When I paint while rested and unhurried, my brushstrokes feel more intuitive. I make clearer decisions about color, composition, and restraint. When I’m tired or rushing myself, the process quickly turns into frustration, and the joy drains out of it.

I try to build rest directly into my creative practice. On days when my energy is low, I choose simple, forgiving projects gentle studies of simple techniques. These quieter sessions allow me to stay connected to painting without the weight of expectation.

I remind myself often: rest isn’t lost time. It’s how I refill the creative well.

3. Permission to move slowly

I used to feel guilty during slower seasons, especially when I wasn’t painting as much as I thought I should. This year, I’ve learned that periods of rest are just as essential as periods of productivity.

Not every season is meant for making finished work. Sometimes my focus naturally shifts toward learning, experimenting, observing, or simply living. Those quieter stretches aren’t empty they’re replenishing the well I draw from later.

When inspiration feels distant, I turn to small, gentle projects: hand-painted post cards, simple washes, or soft sky studies. These low-pressure exercises keep me connected to my materials without demanding anything grand.

I’m learning to give myself permission to move slowly. Art, like everything alive, needs space and air to grow.

4. Reflecting on past work

Revisiting my old work is both humbling and encouraging. When I look back at earlier paintings, I’m often surprised by how much I’ve grown without ever noticing it in the moment.

Taking time to study older pieces helps me see the quiet changes, stronger colour choices, better proportions, more intentional compositions. These shifts didn’t happen all at once; they unfolded gradually while I was simply showing up and creating.

Whenever I feel stuck or unsure of my progress, I return to my old work. Without fail, I can spot improvement I hadn’t given myself credit for.

Sometimes, I even repaint an earlier piece using the skills I’ve developed since then. It’s one of the clearest ways to see how far I’ve come and a reminder that growth is always happening, even when it feels invisible.

5. Letting Go of Perfection

As a younger artist, I spent hours trying to make everything perfect and highly detailed. Over time, I realized that perfection only slows progress, while consistency quietly builds it.

Simply showing up matters more than producing flawless work. Even short, regular painting sessions add up. When I paint often, my brush control improves, my sense of colour broadens, and my creativity feels more natural. I stop overthinking and begin to trust my instincts.

Whenever I want to grow my creative practice, I return to consistency. even one small project each week is enough to create real momentum. Simple, repeated effort has a way of transforming both skill and confidence. Itdoesn'thave to be mindblowing, and it doesn't need to be complered, simply started is good enough sometimes.

The Take Away

Growth in art doesn’t come from pushing harder, it comes from showing up with intention and patience. Limiting my tools helps me focus and experiment more deeply. Rest gives my work clarity and keeps burnout away. Not every season is meant for producing; slower periods are just as valuable for learning and refueling inspiration.

Consistency matters more than perfection, and progress often happens quietly. When I look back at old work, I can see how far I’ve come, even when I didn’t notice it at the time. By honoring rest, embracing limits, and returning to my practice again and again, I give my art the space it needs to grow naturally.