My brushstrokes were tentative. A blank canvas, at first, can be intimidating.

I had earlier tinkered around on a painting I began last summer, mostly touching up or reinforcing a work that is, or might be, almost complete. A few details were finalized and now I’ve got a day or two to figure out where it goes next.

So, I moved on. I had to.

Yesterday was the day I decided I was going to, again, paint. I hadn’t for months, choosing to occupy my mind with another artform. Yesterday seemed right.

Composition was, vaguely, in my head. My colour story was planned, but likely will be altered in the days, or weeks, ahead. I fussed around with the tubes of oil paint, mixed and measured as I progressed, and then I just painted.

I had to.

The underpainting marked the placement of the work as I worked through what should be where and where it will go. It is a commitment to the art. For me, it always gets messy at this stage as I tend to alter my tact as I see how the paint responds to the canvas, and my intentions. This is where my mind engages as I determine future layers.

Oil painting requires a patience I once didn’t possess. The nature of the medium requires time; it forces you to slow down as you wait between layers. Years ago, I always had a problem with the waiting.

I tend to paint “fat”. While the initial layer seems thin and transparent, each subsequent application of paint takes on more oil as the layers begin to define themselves. Still too early in the process to consider textures, the tonal range starts to become obvious.

The canvas, at first, is very one-dimensional. While it first seems big and threatening, after spending time with it I am no longer intimidated. This is art, and it has a level of comfort that begins to envelope me. 

In the days and weeks ahead, I must enhance the depth of the work. Yesterday my vision came into play and further possibilities became present. More importantly, I was present. I had to be.

Yesterday was a day to get started. Today will be easier as I have an idea where I am going.

© 2026 j.g. lewis