After four decades of painting, you figure out what works for you—and what doesn’t. Some things I’ve picked up along the way and left behind. Others have stuck. The tools I use now, the way I work—it’s not about habit. It’s about trust. These are the things that have earned their place over time.
The Medium
I work wet-on-wet, and I’ve been doing it since the beginning. My mix of oil and solvent is something I’ve fine-tuned over the years, and it hasn’t changed much. I don’t talk about the exact recipe—it’s personal—but it lets me move paint the way I want to. I know how it’ll behave, how long I have to work into it, and what kind of surface it’ll leave behind.
Board Over Canvas
I paint almost exclusively on board now. I like the way paint sits on it. It doesn’t soak in like it does with canvas. You get a cleaner finish—almost semi-glossy. Sometimes it reminds me of stained glass, especially when the layers build up just right. There’s a clarity in it I’ve grown to rely on.
Brushes, Knives, and Whatever Works
I’ve got two brushes I use regularly. They’re nothing special—cheap hardware store brushes with pig hair bristles. I’ve owned every fancy brush you can name, but I always end up back with those two. I also use a palette knife, depending on the painting. I started experimenting with knives when I was sixteen or seventeen, trying out more abstract work back then. I came back to it seriously about twenty years ago. Now I move between knife and brush, and sometimes I’ll just use a rag or my fingers. You adapt to what the painting needs.
Confidence Is Everything
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that confidence matters more than technique. You need enough of both, but without confidence, nothing holds. Not every painting works out. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been at it. But you have to show up and trust your instinct anyway.
That’s the part that takes the most time to learn—just letting go of the outcome. Some of the best paintings come from instinct, not overthinking. And sometimes they fall apart. That’s fine. You move on to the next one.
It’s Not About Getting It All In
When I was younger, I cared more about getting everything right—reproducing what I saw exactly. Now I care more about what catches my eye. What made me stop and look. Usually that’s the light, or the way a shape sits in the composition. I just try to paint that part. The rest can fall away.
I still experiment. I still get it wrong. But the difference now is I know when to stop chasing something that’s not working, and when to keep going. These tools, these techniques—they’ve stayed with me because they do what I need them to do. That’s all I ask.
