Choosing Growth: Returning to the Student Within

I have always believed that artists are lifelong students.

We don't learn everything we need to know in four years of art school. Those years give us a foundation, a way of seeing, and the tools to begin our journey, but the learning never truly stops. The growth happens through years of practice, observation, curiosity, and simply showing up to the canvas again and again.

Over the years, my live wedding painting practice has grown into my profession. It has become an incredible privilege to be trusted with capturing some of the most meaningful moments in people's lives.

Live Wedding Painting on Madeline Island, Wisconson. 18 x 24" Oil on linen Live Painting at the Douglas County Fair - Alexandria MN 18 x 24 Oil on canvas.

Through countless hours of painting on location, I have learned how to work quickly, make decisions, adapt to changing light, and create under pressure.

There is something amazing about painting a wedding day. There is also something humbling about realizing your paint is drying differently than expected, the wind has decided your easel needs a little adventure, and you have three hours left to somehow make everything come together.

Not to mention the unexpected surprises that come with painting live events, like watching your carefully chosen palette transform into every shade of neon when the black lights come on over the dance floor. (Yes, that has happened!)

Every live painter knows there is always a little negotiation happening between the artist, the environment, and sometimes the unexpected.

But somewhere along the way, when painting becomes your job, it is easy to become comfortable with what you know works.

It is easy to focus on executing the familiar. The brushstrokes you trust. The process you have practiced. The decisions that reliably get you to the finished piece.

And while I am always learning and evolving, I found myself asking a deeper question:

Could my work become more powerful? More emotional? More connected?

This is not about starting over.

It is about building upon everything I have learned so far.

Every painting, every commission, every challenge, and every moment spent creating has shaped the artist I am today.

My goal is not to erase that experience, but to expand it.

This is why I am choosing to make more time for study and practice. I am learning to value the quieter moments away from commissioned work as an important part of my growth as an artist. I am stepping into a new chapter of focused study through plein air painting. And if I am being honest, there is something wonderfully humbling about becoming a beginner again.

The beginner stage is where we ask more questions. It is where we experiment, make mistakes, and learn to see differently. It can feel uncomfortable, but it is also where growth happens.

As I have been studying master works that inspire me, I keep coming back to the same realization: the paintings that truly stay with us are not always the ones with the most detail.

The Cliff, Étretat, Sunset (1883) by Claude Monet; Claude Monet, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

They are the ones that make us feel something.

When you spend time with a great painting, especially in person, you begin to see the decisions behind it. How did the artist build the work? Was it painted alla prima with confident, immediate choices? Was it layered slowly over time? How did they use color, value, edges, and brushwork to create emotion?

When you look closely, you realize it is still just paint.

But it is paint used with intention.

This has been especially meaningful as I study landscape painting. The connection often does not come from perfectly rendered tree branches or every tiny detail being explained. It comes from the relationships between color and value. It comes from atmosphere, light, and the feeling a place creates.

I have also been learning the importance of simplifying shape and form.

An example of simpliying form using the Notan Desingn technique from Will Kemps Art School.

As artists, we often want to capture everything we see. Every detail feels important. Every little mark seems like something we need to include.

But years of painting weddings and working with limited time have taught me something valuable. I have learned to look beyond the details and recognize the larger shapes, forms, and relationships that tell the story.

I believe this is one of the first steps toward creating paintings that communicate feeling rather than simply representation.

  Geraniums: Barry John Raybould

To simplify is not to remove meaning. It is to discover what matters most.

Through studying light, color, and atmosphere, I have come to realize that color is what speaks to me most. It is the vibrancy and harmony within a painting that bring it to life and draw me in.

My hope is to continue learning how to create paintings that invite someone to pause, feel, and connect.

I am honored to begin this journey as a member of the Minnesota Outdoor Painters. I know I have much to learn, and that is exactly what makes this season exciting.

This is my commitment to myself as an artist: to stay curious, keep practicing, and always leave room to grow.

Because the moment we stop learning is the moment we stop discovering.

Stay curious my friends!

With Love,

Leanne