Artist Mindset – Kirsty Donald

How to use a sketchbook as a guide for your abstract painting

Feeling lost in abstract art can be a common experience, but it’s also an opportunity for growth and self-discovery. Using a sketchbook to guide your intuition can be a powerful tool in finding your purpose in abstract art. Here are some steps to help you along the way:

Embrace the Uncertainty:

Understand that feeling lost or uncertain in abstract art is normal. It’s a genre that encourages exploration and self-expression without strict rules.

Set Intentions:

Before you start, take a moment to set intentions for your artistic journey. Ask yourself questions like: What do I want to express? What emotions or ideas do I want to convey? What is the message I want to share?

Experiment with Different Materials:

Use a variety of materials in your sketchbook, like pencils, charcoal, ink, watercolours, acrylics, etc. Each medium can evoke different feelings and textures.

Free Your Mind:

Allow yourself to let go of preconceived notions or expectations. Don’t worry about making a “perfect” piece. Instead, focus on the process and the emotions you want to convey.

Practice Mindfulness and Introspection:

Spend some time in a quiet, comfortable space. Close your eyes, take deep breaths, and try to clear your mind. Reflect on your emotions, experiences, and thoughts. This can help you connect with your inner self.

Start with Gestures and Lines:

Begin with loose, flowing gestures and lines on your sketchbook. Let your hand move freely without overthinking. This can help you tap into your subconscious and intuitive thoughts.

Respond to What Appears:

As you make marks on the page, pay attention to what emerges. It could be shapes, textures, or forms that evoke certain feelings or memories. Allow these elements to guide your next steps.

Experiment with Layers and Textures:

Build layers of colours, shapes, and textures. Use different techniques like blending, splattering, or scraping to create depth and interest.

Reflect and Analyze:

Periodically step back and observe your work. Consider what resonates with you and what doesn’t. Reflect on the emotions and thoughts that arise as you look at the piece.

Seek Inspiration and Learning:

Look at the works of other abstract artists. Attend exhibitions, read books, and watch documentaries about abstract art. This can provide fresh perspectives and techniques.

Document Your Journey:

Keep a journal alongside your sketchbook. Write down your thoughts, feelings, and observations about your artistic process. This can be a valuable record of your growth and insights.

Trust the Process:

Remember that finding your purpose in abstract art is a journey. It takes time and patience. Trust yourself and your instincts.

Ultimately, finding your purpose in abstract art is a deeply personal and evolving process. Allow yourself to explore, make mistakes, and learn from your experiences. The most important thing is to enjoy the process of creating and expressing yourself.

The Secret to Art That Resonates

In the quiet spaces of my studio, where the world fades away and only the canvas and I remain, I’ve discovered a secret, an intangible force that breathes life into my creations. It’s the very essence of art-making – the key to crafting works that don’t just hang on walls but resonate with the viewer.

Vulnerability: The Birthplace of Connection

Art isn’t just an expression; it’s a revelation. It’s in those unguarded moments when I let my emotions flow through the brush that something magical happens. The viewer isn’t just seeing a piece of art; they’re witnessing a piece of me as the painter. Vulnerability bridges the gap between the artist and the audience, forming an unspoken bond.

Universal Language: Emotions Unveiled

The beauty of art lies in its universality. It’s a language that transcends spoken words, a silent conversation between souls. By channelling these universal emotions, I create pieces that speak to something deep within us all.

Mastery: The Hand that Guides the Heart

The technique is the silent conductor, harmonizing with the emotions that flow. It’s the marriage of skill and intuition. Through years of practice and endless exploration, I’ve used my craft to create my vision.

Courageous Innovation: Pushing Boundaries, Defying Norms

Art isn’t static; it’s a living, breathing entity. To truly connect, I’ve learned to embrace the unknown. It’s about pushing boundaries, experimenting with unconventional mediums, and defying the constraints of convention. Innovation breathes life into my work, inviting viewers to see the world through a fresh lens.

The Dance of Intuition and Craftsmanship

In every piece, there’s a dance – a delicate balance between instinct and expertise. It’s where intuition meets technique, where vulnerability intertwines with mastery. It’s an invitation extended to the viewer, a quiet whisper that says, “Come, share this moment with me.”

Ultimately, the secret to creating art that connects isn’t confined to any canvas or medium. It’s a journey of self-discovery, a dance with the intangible, a language spoken from the heart. It’s about embracing vulnerability, channelling universal truths, mastering the tools of the trade, and fearlessly venturing into uncharted territories.

So, as you stand before a piece of art, remember that it’s not just pigment and canvas; if you listen closely, you might just hear the heartbeat of the creator echoing through the strokes and colours. This is the secret to crafting art that connects.

How to move beyond perfectionism to find your creativity

You’re sitting in front of your painting, and it’s just not feeling right, and then that dreaded defeated feeling creeps up, that deep-seated worry, and you think, ‘maybe it’s not good enough’.

Learning how to create without fear is so important. It gives you the freedom to explore without the focus being on the end result. But where to begin?

What if there are no mistakes?

For me, it was learning to accept the mistakes I was making, that with every piece I am learning, developing my style and skill, and in this process, acknowledging that it’s ok if I’m still finding my way.

This section felt flat in this painting, so I added some movement with charcoal. It felt like a mistake at first, but it made this section of the painting less flat and reflected the marks in the landscape.

Mistakes can be magic

The mistakes we make can often make the painting work, that little bit of magic we didn’t anticipate happening. The ink may have flowed or splattered; the paint gave an uneven texture, and the palette knife made a bolder mark than you expected. These ‘mistakes’ can all add to your work, and you’ll begin to learn which mistakes you want to keep.

This section of black really dominated this area in the painting and drew too much focus. Using a palette knife, I pulled across this blue, hoping for an even texture, but actually, I much prefer the broke look of the paint, which reveals the layers of colour below.

Creative editing

Editing doesn’t mean getting the gesso out and starting all over again. Step back and evaluate what works in your painting before painting over anything. Make a mental note, or keep a studio journal with a photo of your artwork and really assess your painting:

What do you like about it?
What sections work? Is the composition balanced?
How were you working when things were going well?
How are you going to develop this practice?

Towards the end of making this painting, I decided that the white path looked flat and needed more interest as a focus in the painting. I used a light shade of grey t give a better impression of the stone slabs. This gave it a more natural look rather than being so stark.

Painting with honesty

Mistakes, imperfections and flaws are all parts of what make us human and connect us with others. As artists, we put what we see on paper or canvas and learn to do it without censoring ourselves; we express our honest interpretation of what we see and experience.

Perfectionism keeps us from expressing ourselves freely, and it’s this freedom and energy that makes a painting. When you let go, you’ll develop so much more as a painter and really find your voice through the paint.

Is it too late to become an artist?

During my fine art degree, the paintings I produced weren’t the daring taxidermy or Perspex creations of my peers. At this time, I was making work that featured semi-abstract florals, some more earthy than others, that featured poppies in a ploughed field. My feedback from my tutor was that ‘it looks like a dirty protest’. Those words most certainly stuck with me and made me want to run out of the studio, screaming never to touch a paintbrush again. If I am completely honest, it has taken me ten years to finally find the courage to paint again and show my work to people.

I kept drawing for myself, teaching art workshops to children and interning in Art Galleries, so I never gave up on art or the process of creating. I think that my passion for making art never left despite the discouragement. In the face of these doubts, I decided why not! As Georgia O’Keeffe said: “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life, and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do”.

I began tentatively, getting a feel for the paints again, practising techniques and going through many bad paintings and double sides of the paper to start finding my feet. I started painting landscapes, and I could feel a real connection to the surroundings I was painting. This idea of a sense of place, a sense of belonging and connection, had been stirring since being a curatorial assistant and working with a collection where each artist featured was influenced by the identity of place. Below is a painting by Sheila Fell, who’s work has provided so much inspiration.

Sheila Fell RA, (1931 – 1979) Yorkshire Moors (1968-70)

These initial works were much more representational, but I began to feel that I wasn’t conveying how I felt when standing in the hills or out on the moorland; I wanted to feel the weather. I began creating my first collection last year, and I haven’t looked back. I keep moving forward to discover my style and artistic goals; like most artists, these will be ever-changing.

Wild Swimming (2022)

Finding your starting point

Finding what inspires you is one of the most essential parts of creating art. When you look at artworks in books, art galleries or Instagram, what excites you about these works? When you begin to notice what attracts you to particular artists or artworks, begin to compile an inspiration board (Pinterest, art journal, cork board), and this will help you get a clear picture of the direction you want to work in.

Freedom to create

When you begin in your chosen medium, don’t be precious. It’s difficult, but knowing you are not setting out to create a masterpiece or even a finished work certainly takes the pressure off. Sketchbooks are a great way to loosen up; start with making marks on the paper, get a feel for your materials, and begin mixing colours, so you have swatches to refer to if you create something you like. Use your reference material to begin forming your work, and with each passing day, you’ll feel yourself reaching for it less as you ease into the process. The great thing about a sketchbook is that it’s entirely for you; you have the freedom to create anything.

Don’t throw anything out

When you first start making paintings, if you’re like me, you won’t be happy with every picture you make, but these are all great learning tools. You might not like the composition; it may have become murky because the paint hadn’t entirely dried before adding another layer, the colour palette might be off, or you feel you’ve played it too safe and it’s just not hitting the mark. As you can probably tell from this list, I have faced these problems and many more, but you certainly learn from every painting you make.

So is it too late to become an artist? Never! Some of my mistakes have led me to find a much more creative approach; things don’t always go to plan, but learning to overcome the fear of making art is the only step forward.

I’d love to know what led you to take up the paintbrush again.