Musings at Minkiewicz Studios LLC

The Dented Can: Creating Imperfectly In An Imperfect World Part III

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Thu, 02 Apr 2026 12:17:00 +0000

Introduction to Part III

Welcome back! We’re at the conclusion of this three-part series on imperfection as it relates to arting, particularly equine realism. We’ve come a long way on this journey, having discussed several weighty issues that pertain to the difficulties of making art when perfection is the goal. Because — blorg! What an impossible task! To attempt to make a “perfect” realistic equine piece is literally to forge off into a futile, doomed mission with no end! No wonder why perfectionists tend to spin their wheels so much. Their goal post keeps moving!

It’s said that Leonardo da Vinci quipped, ”Art is never finished, only abandoned.” Whether or not you agree with that, the point is, there comes a time when you just have to quit with this endless pursuit of perfection and call “done” only because you — if you’ve been paying attention — come to realize you simply cannot produce perfection. It’s just not ever in the cards, no matter how hard you try and redo and redo and redo. Maybe you’re exasperated, maybe you’re fried, maybe you’re bored, maybe you’re confused, maybe you just want to be done. Whatever the reason, it’s your inner voice telling you to stop chasing that windmill. Your horse is exhausted. Because perfection, in all its forms, is absolutely impossible in an imperfect world, in an imperfect universe, in an imperfect reality. So stop. But how do we process this release of perfectionism when our pieces have to be as perfect as possible? Well, we’ve explored that theme throughout this series, so let’s bookend it now with two important components to this journey…so let’s just gun it and go!…

The Imperfect Dream

Another thing I’ve learned in over thirty years in this biz is this: Most collectors don’t necessarily want realistic equines — they want dream equines, and that’s a very different order to fill. So despite all their espousing of realism this and realism that, of accuracy here and accuracy there, when push comes to shove, this community tends to choose what tugs at the heartstrings and the imagination over what tugs at the technicalities. They want to be enchanted more than anything else and reminded why they love horses in the first place. It's understandable. But I see it all the time, even today when ABC judging is the dominant evaluation platform. But here’s the thing: If you can ping both, that’s where the real magic happens! So aim for that! The gist of it is though: Don’t just focus on technical accuracies and workmanship — those are simply the incidental baselines to our art form, the “givens” that have to be there anyway. What you should also be focused on in equal measure are three additional things:

Narrative: What story are you telling in your piece? What sort of context, backstory, theme, or overarching tone or theme does this piece embody?
Heart-grabbing: Does my piece speak to the heart and soul of the viewer in equal measure? It should remind people of why they love equines in the first place.
Novelty: What new territory am I exploring with this piece whether a new way to express technicalities, your knowledge base, skillset, narrative, composition, concept, technique, media or what not? Seek to push yourself in some new direction with each piece.

So all this is to say that what the community says it wants isn’t necessarily what it wants. At its core, despite all the brouhaha and espoused demands, it really just wants to be inspired, to be reminded of why equines are our focus, our muse, and our passion. So if your work can do that along with technical accuracy, you’ve got it on lock.

Recommended reading:

Top Hat n’ Tails: Steppin’ Out With Style

The Imperfect Plan

To get all these sensibilities in tow and moving forwards, we often do better with a plan, a map to get us to our goals. The thing is though, each artist must plot their own course according to their individual needs, so every map is different. But there are certain myths when it comes to map-making because what we definitely don’t need are:

A perfect map or plan
A perfect, flawless portfolio
A perfect, amazing CV
A five-year strategy or business plan
Being “ready” to start

Nope. You see, all that will build and morph along the way on its own plus if we stick too hard to a fixed route on our map, we can find ourselves in the weeds pretty quickly all the same. In fact, our first maps can be wrong, be off-course, or become outdated to what we’re evolving into. And stay open to the random opportunity that may seem out of left field, but segues with our Voice nicely. So the trick here is to keep our map buildable and adaptable to our ongoing evolution while not betraying our Voice. So on that note, here’s what we do actually need for your map:

A direction or goal: What do you want to accomplish in your art career? Be honest. And your direction can be a bit murky as it will probably morph along the way.
Your Voice: Your driving sensibilities that dictate which routes you take, even the nature of your destination.
Adaptability: Your resilience and ability to bounce around lets you reroute, get into new lanes, backtrack, and find new on-ramps and off-ramps as you need them.
Keep showing up: Participate in the community, with your peers and colleagues and partners, make good use of social media, and engage your art in the happenings going on. But even more, keep showing up for your work — keep making it no matter what. Indeed, your love, perseverance, patience, determination, innovations, growth, curiosity, and courage will come into play in a big way as you keep on, failing forwards and growing.
Identification of guideposts: Who are your mentors, teachers, peers, colleagues, and partners who not only correct your map, but point you in the right direction, even new directions.
Doing the work: Hard work, sacrifice, diligence, and follow through to completion are all necessary to walk the Path. Not “someday,” not when you feel “ready,” not when things are “perfect,” not when you have more money, time, or confidence, or skill — now. The truth is there is no perfect time to start, so just start now! Confusion you can fix with information, fear you can fix with courage, roadblocks you can shove aside with help, but procrastination is 100% on you and will 100% burn your map to ashes. You’ve got to do the work.
Willingness: How willing are you to learn, to make the sacrifices, to put in the hard work, to question and challenge (especially yourself), and above all, to fail and still keep going? Your powerful will is the fuel you’ll need to get where you want to go.
Curiosity: How much are you jazzed by learning new things? How pro-active are you in self-education and expanding your knowledge base and skillset? How prone are you to challenge your own conventions, biases, blindspots, and sensibilities? Are you eager to follow your curiosity or do you tend to choose safe comfort zones and convention, particularly your own?
Humility: Are you able to be a newb again…and again and again and again as needed? Are you okay with failing spectacularly in full public view? Can you process embarrassment, shame, mistakes, bad art days, and other artistic oopsies effectively, especially in public view? And even more, can you always give credit where credit is due? Are you apt to openly recognize the contributions of others to your map? Remember the adage, “Be nice to everyone on the way up, because you’ll meet them again on the way down.”

That’s what will serve you best on your Way, that’s what will get you to your destination on the most flexible, responsive, and effective Path. Because once you’ve given yourself permission to learn, to make mistakes, to be a newb, to question, to feel awkward and uncomfortable, and to always try again, you’ve laid down a solid foundation for growth, exploration, and building an exciting studio. Because all those other things like contracts, licensing, CVs, portfolios, agents, gallery relationships and all the rest will pop up on their own along the way, but if you don’t have those foundation gumptions from the beginning, it’s just a self-sabotaging endeavor. In a nutshell then, the question really isn’t “Am I ready?,” it’s “Am I willing?” So, are you?

The Imperfect Art

All said and done, we should realize that realism is an intrinsically imperfect art form. No matter how hard we try, no matter how skilled we are, no matter how big our knowledge base, no matter how long we’ve been doing this, no matter how keen our Sight, no matter how many classes we take, we’ll always — always — fall short of our mark. Why? Well, it’s pretty simple: Only Nature can create a perfect horse, only DNA can achieve perfection. Yet even then, no horse is perfect! Like thumb through an auction magazine to see the plethora of individuality in the equine form, just like us — so who’s to say which one is perfect? And hooooo boy, ask a group of people what makes a perfect horse and watch the flamewar start! Yet to add more fuel to the fire, even Nature is flawed through all its variations, genetic errors, mutations, and all the rest — and much of it still works all the same, just like our art! So one can say that our actual attainable goal is to achieve as much realism as we can muster to trick the eye just enough into believing it’s more than just an HSO (horse-shaped object), in the full knowing that means different things to different people. Like someone may look at a painted sculpture and be fooled in an instant while another may look at it and immediately see all the illusion-popping errors. The more esoteric those errors get though, the less likely they’re going to be identified. But there’s always a tell, that’s the point. So the goal isn’t to achieve perfection, but enough accuracy to do the job, and that’s significantly more attainable…thank goodness!

Then we have the difficulty with our methods and media — our workmanship. Heck, simply achieving a smooth basecoat or white pattern is enough to drive us up a tree! But here’s the thing: Our workmanship has to be even more on point only because more people are simply going to recognize a brushstrok-y white blanket or a missed bit of flashing than they are a missing tuberosity on the knee or a laterally bent lumbar section. It’s just a lot more obvious to more people. And here perhaps perfection is most insidious only because a perfect prep job is possible — you simply have to remove all the flashing and casting relics, right? That’s doable, given enough patience, gumption, and technique. Likewise, a smooth basecoat is attainable with an airbrush while smooth white patterns are doable with the right brushwork and paint consistency, making them also fully within our capabilities. No wonder why so many truly struggle with prepwork and painting! It’s a very different bar to clear when perfection is no longer intrinsically unattainable! Argh! So here perhaps we really need to apply our wabi-sabi sensibilities to keep ourselves not only sane, but happy in our arting because there comes a point of diminishing returns. You see, when our brain starts associating arting with frustration, disillusion, and other bad vibes, we won’t be arting for much longer. Double argh! Yet here’s the real crux of the matter — we need to stop bullying ourselves and each other with perfection. Give people room to enjoy making their art! If that means they missed a brushstroke but still had a blast painting that pattern, then let it be. If they missed a bit of sanding scratches, but they love their piece, then let it be. If they got a bit of dog hair in their hoof paint, but the hoof still looks good, then let it be. Sure this equation is very different with working artists who do have to deliver as close to perfect as possible, but the casual artist? Ease up on them! Let them have their joy in their more casual way.

Nevertheless, it’s important to finish what we start for follow through. Now it’s okay to have several in-progress projects going, but we really do need to finish them at some point, especially if we’re a working artist. Like it feels good to put that period on the end of that very long sentence for our own sake, for our art’s sake, and to move onto other things with a clean slate. And each piece can only teach us so much and it’s time to finish it up and move onto a new lesson. Yet even so, it’s okay to putter around in our art from time to time, a lot of great art has been created by puttering around. But it does become a problem if that's a pattern of behavior if this is our livelihood. Absolutely, a working artist finishes most of what they start not because it’s easy, but because it’s hard — because they have to. They have to start, they have to save it from the mistakes, and they require that follow through no matter what. But this is the surprising thing: This pressure is actually pretty handy because it forces us to, as Tim Gunn would say, “Make it work.” And sometimes in art, forcing things to save a piece, to finish it — heck, to even start a new piece — can actually lead to discovery, innovation, and the excavation of personal or artistic issues that ultimately improve matters in our long game.

But boil it all down and this is the imperfect irony about our niche art form: Realism isn’t as objective as we may think it is. It’s certainly more objective than, say, conformation, breed type, and artistic appeal, but in and of itself, technical accuracy has its own degree of subjectivity, especially when it comes to the gestalt response. Sure, someone quite knowledgeable may see the technical errors, but if that piece consistency wins big, sells big, becomes famous…as many technically flawed pieces have…what actually matters most? Oh, the conundrum! So again, just do the best you can on your learning curve, and let the chips fall where they may — and you just keep on, artin’ on. That’s all any of us can do.

Recommended reading:

Finally Finito: When To Call Done

The Unreality of Realism: Walking the Tightrope Between Fact and Fiction Part I - Part V (click "newer post" to go to the next Part)

Keepin’ It Real: Ways To Support Artists Beyond The Dollar

Taking Off The Blindfold

The Enigma Drive

Demonslaying Part I - Part VI (click "newer post" to go to the next Part)

The Breadcrumbs Home

Gathered Wisdom

DABPPRR: Equine Realism Easily Organized

The Master’s Edge: The Importance Of Quality Workmanship

Twenty-Five Tips For Preserving Your Joy In the Studio

Conclusion

Perhaps now it’s clear that creating perfect art in this crazy ol’ imperfect world is a bit of a self-imposed delusion, isn’t it? It's kinda self-sabotaging in a way. In a sense, it's a bit more about turning into Don Quixote with his windmills than gaining superpowers of impeccable talent, skill, and vision. In fact, if we dig deeper, we find that perfectionism isn’t just a desire to do well — we all wish to do that, even those who have put perfection in its place. Nope. Rather, it’s in equal measure a fear of failing. A fear of shame, humiliation, a fear of not being enough. In this strange way then, perfectionism is a kind of love-hate dichotomy: Love for our art, arting, and our subject, but hate of shame, embarrassment, frustration, and failure. How curious! How imperfect a relationship!

But with some reality injected into this delusion, some reason infused into this preposterous proposition, and some self-love smashed into the self-loathing perfectionism can provoke, we can’t only learn to accept our imperfect art, we can actually come to embrace it for the marvel it is. What’s more, we can reconcile and make peace with this imperfect world that just never seems to stop testing our patience, resilience, and sense of humor.

Because it’s important to make peace with imperfection, to realize that we can go about our arting business joyfully, skillfully, and purposely even when that impossible carrot of perfection dangles in front of us, always pulling us forward in its maddening way. That we can find satisfaction even when we’re destined to always pull up short. Yes, it’s true. Because, yes, you can find that renewed kind of relationship with your art, too. Because there are three truths we mustn’t ignore. First, art should first be fun! It’s gotta be a true pleasure, if you’re doing it right. Second, art should be a sanctuary for you, a rebalancing that brings you inner peace and solace. And third, arting is good for you! It’s good for your mind, your heart, your soul, your health, your guts, and your sensibilities. If we don’t make peace with imperfection though, chances are we may never even start arting in the first place, denying ourselves of those beneficial truths…and for little good reason.

So assuage those fears imperfection fires up with a goodly dose of love, curiosity, courage, and gumption to just start creating some art! It can be something incredibly small or simple, too, nothing fancy or involved. Cut out a paper horse and glue on some yarn and glitter! Done! Sew up a stuffed horse with button eyes! Done! Prep a $10 Breyer and paint it chestnut! Done! Start with baby steps! But just start. This imperfect world desperately needs your imperfect art, and together we can actually find a new kind of perfection in the way only love, beauty, and inspiration can conjure up together! So make a friend of imperfection and you’ll find not only a gentle, nonjudgmental companion, but one who accepts you for exactly who you are and your art for exactly what it is, gladly and openly.

"You use a glass mirror to see your face. You use works of art to see your soul.”

- George Bernard Shaw

The Dented Can: Creating Imperfectly In An Imperfect World Part II

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 31 Mar 2026 20:29:00 +0000

Introduction to Part II

Welcome back to this three-part exploration of imperfection in art, specifically equine realism. We’ve covered a lot of ground with Part I with the Imperfect Goal and the Imperfect Journey, so now let’s continue with two imperfect features that entail quite a lot to chew on. So let’s just dive in!…

The Imperfect Notion

Many people, including many artists, seem to think that creativity is kinda like a train that goes from Point A to Point B on a neat and tidy rail. That you start your work and steadily work through it to completion. And, yes, it can be like that, and what a blessing when it is! But the fact of the matter is creativity is more like a demolition derby with ideas, challenges, mistakes, and plot twists all crashing together as your smash and bang your way to completion. It’s usually a messy business. Indeed, some pieces can be taxing, even exhausting because of it. Then there are those who have honed their discipline to turn that chaos into more like an off-road rally. In this case, it’s Toad’s Wild Ride as we careen forwards, almost out of control but still plowing steadily onwards to completion. That’s the way I work, right on the edge of utter mayhem but with just enough structure to make progress. But above all, we don’t want our creativity turning into a major freeway during peak rush hour. Ugh…no! So the goal is to just keep moving, in any direction, as long as it’s forwards. And any step forwards, no matter how minuscule, is still forward motion.

Many people also think, including many artists, that “good” art is “perfect” art, that “quality” and “worth” and “perfection” are synonymous. But you and I both know that’s not true. First off, perfection is simply unattainable in this imperfect world as we’ve already discussed. Secondly though, “perfection,” like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. What is perfect to one person will be full of flaws to another. I see it all the time in our technical art form, for example. Some true masterpieces meet with crickets out there while really problematic pieces meet with wild kudos. So many out there adamantly profess to want realism, or technical perfection, but they don’t actually know what that is! It’s so strange that in an activity so dependent on realism that so few seem to actually recognize it when it’s right in front of their face! But that’s “perfection” for ya. So who’s to say? Sure, we can have educated opinions, but they have their own biases, conventions, and blindspots that skew their assessment all the same. Third, Nature isn’t perfect so we shouldn’t be perfect either. In other words, it’s only through imperfection that we can attain true realism! Oh, crazy irony! And Nature is full of variation and oddities, things not presented on anatomy charts or discussed in text. Now this isn’t to say to make deliberate mistakes — nope. It’s to say we need to know the rules first before we can bend them like Nature does. But the point is, “perfect” needs to be kept in perspective so it doesn’t drive us bananas or feed our fear (perfectionism) to potentially paralyze us. And this matters — it matters a lot — because it can spell the difference between your joy or drudgery. Indeed, our modern society pummels us with the expectation of perfection on a daily basis, but the unavoidable fact is that arting just doesn’t function this way. Instead, art is based on imperfection to be beautiful — yes! Your Voice, novelty, happy accidents, individuality, style, artistic appeal — all of it — are dependent on imperfection to even exist, things that imbue your art with more authenticity, beauty, uniqueness, humanity, you-ness, and even more realism. “Learning to let your art not be perfect may be exactly what you need in your quest of finding your own voice,” says Scott Christian Sava, and he’s bang-on correct. Learn to let go, but to let go in the right way, yes? That’s to say we do have technical biological rules to follow, but in addition to that there’s a lot of artistic fudge-factor possible. Therein lies the secret place where the magic can truly happen, of that marvelous union between technical accuracy, artistic expression, and meaningful narrative that’s characteristic of all our very best works.

But all that said, it does get more complicated. Of course it does. Like in Western thought, our art comes from us as individuals, we are the originators of our visions and art works, innovations, or inventions. But this concept wasn’t always the case. In ancient Greek thought, it was a divine spirit called a genius, a muse which serendipitously showed up, touching us with inspiration and enlightenment, carrying us to the completion. And because this was an unpredictable event, so was the creation of truly great work an unpredictable event — something every artist knows all too well. Now this did also mean that if our work was super successful out there, we couldn’t take full credit, could we? Nope. Our capricious genius delivered for us, through us. But on the other hand, if we met with abject failure, we weren’t really to blame, were we? No. Our muse just didn’t show up and do its job! In many ways then, this is a healthier way to process rousing success or abject failure, two things each of us will experience in our arting career, and in very public ways. Because the hard truth is that every artist — every artist — will have bad art days. Days where nothing works right or pieces that just end up far below our potential for whatever reason — it happens. It’s a mystery, but we will all create problematic work because that’s simply part of the art gig. But without a healthy processing strategy, this can drive us into a creative inertia if we aren’t very careful. We’ve got to find a way to keep our motivations fired up despite the failures and successes. Successes? Yep. You see, success can be as traumatic as failure. Failure, because, well…failure. But also success because now everyone is going to expect you to top yourself next time, and that can be utterly paralyzing if you don’t have processing tactics. Then you have imposter syndrome to contend with and the “you’re not good enough” goblin, both of which can poison the process further. And nevermind the hellbent desire for perfection throwing even more demoralization into the fray. In all this and more, failure can crush us with confusion, regret, humiliation, shame, disappointment, disillusionment, and lost face while success can usher in a lot — a lot — of pressure and stress steeped in fear and intimidation. It’s literally a no-win situation! So learning a kind of detachment with both our successes and our failures may be a bit counter-intuitive, but it’s actually a beneficial attitude to adopt. That kind of distance can act as a buffer zone where you give yourself the license to be a fallible human being who tried the best you could with what you had at that moment on your learning curve.

Speaking of detachment, we’ve got to learn not to care about what other people think of our work, good or bad. Why? Because we’ll free ourselves of a great deal of ponderous weight, making our creativity far more buoyant. “I have already settled it for myself so flattery and criticism go down the same drain and I am quite free,” said Georgia O’Keeffe, right on point. Artist, that’s the headspace you have to find within yourself, down to your core, to find true empowerment. That well of not-caring inside of you is your fountainhead of your most authentic and innovative creativity, despite all the sentiments out there. “The audience comes last,” says Rick Rubin, and he nailed it. You create your art to please yourself first. That’s your prime directive not only to yourself and to the Universe, but to your art. Putting the audience last makes your art more you, more genuine, more unique, and more meaningful because it makes your Voice more potent and emboldened, a massive plus when arting. And trust me — your collectors will appreciate that authenticity all the more because it spices up their options! Just never forget that your art has chosen you, and only you, to manifest through — don’t dishonor it. Don’t contaminate it with the wants, influences, demands, expectations, wishes, criticisms, conventions, biases, and pressures of other people. You’re the creator of your art and they aren’t, therefore they should have no place at your table. Never forget that. The only person who belongs on that throne with that crown is you! So follow your creative gut — your Voice — with gusto. Your head and heart can be mistaken or panic or conflict to lead you astray, but your gut will always take you in the right direction, where you were meant to artistically go.

Consider this, too: “Comparison is the death of joy,” said Mark Twain, and he was absolutely spot on. Evaluating your worth, skill, and talent as a function of how it compares to that of “better” artists isn’t only debilitating and demoralizing, it’s an apples and oranges comparison. You see, you have your own magic, unique in all of space and time, and your art only has you to manifest through. You are its only conduit, it’s sole pathway in all existence. Think about that for a moment. That’s pretty profound, isn’t it? You are important, your art is important, your Voice is important — all that has all the value it will ever need! As Martha Graham put it:

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.

Always remember that your magic is as special, unique, and as unsurpassed as that of anyone else. So you don’t need to compare yourself to other artists, do you? You don’t need their magic — no, not at all. You have your own! Lean into it! So rather than denying it, polluting it, or trying to turn it into something it isn’t, embrace it! And never forget that it’s uniquely and wholly yours, and yours alone — so use it! You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about! Would you be ashamed of devouring a delicious ice cream cone on a hot day? Well, don’t be ashamed about your art! Indeed, your creativity is as natural to you as breathing. Would you be ashamed to breathe? No? So don’t be about your arting. It’s a part of who you are, what you’re all about — don’t hide it away, denigrate it, or dampen it. Crank it up! Art out loud!

Now one can argue that arting out loud takes confidence, and well, yeah…it kinda does. But confidence not in the way you might think. Not the confidence you have when you’ve been arting for a long time, the confidence that comes with experience. No. It takes a truer, more meaningful confidence. You see, real confidence, true confidence isn’t so much about knowing you’ll succeed, but knowing you can snap back into shape after a failure. Real confidence has more to do with resilience, adaptability, and embracing uncertainty — even potential failure — because you know you can bounce back regardless, all the wiser. "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts," said Winston Churchill. And it’s true. And courage in the truest sense of the word: The root word of courage is “cor,” the Latin word for “heart,” so in the early form of “courage” then, the word meant to “speak one’s mind by telling all of one’s heart.” And here’s the thing — fear has no power in the courageous heart that realizes failure isn’t final. You can fix things as you go. You can do it over again. You can morph and bend and adapt to make it work in new ways and directions. You can learn what to avoid on another piece. All of this smooshes together then into a roused powerhouse, allowing you to tackle any piece even in the face of your greatest fears and intimidations. This is the kind of confidence an artist needs most and which isn’t so hard to come by either. Why? Because it’s less about believing in your skill, ability, aptitude, or talent and more about recognizing your own power to bounce back. It has very little to do with how “good” your art actually is and everything to do with how irrepressible you are. Embrace that truth about yourself and you so got this!

Yet too many souls live in fear of their arting. And fear takes many forms: “I’m not enough,”perfectionism, imposter syndrome, procrastination, spinning wheels, intimidation, comparisons, doom scrolling, insecurity, creative timidity, self-deprecation, seeking external validation, bravado, obsession with “likes,” a block, and our comfort zones, habits, and conventions, among many others. Fear knows exactly what buttons to push, doesn’t it? And golly, is it a born button pusher! But this is why those artists who have persevered haven’t actually conquered their fear. In fact, that’s not really possible. Why? Because fear is a very human reaction to a very daunting proposition — and the prospect of making something real that’s exists only in our mind’s eye is a rather daunting proposition, isn’t it? As Brené Brown observes, “To create is to make something that has never existed before. There’s nothing more vulnerable than that.” Indeed. And fear just happens, there’s no stopping it. Instead then, triumphant artists have learned to coexist with their fear and still function despite it, in lieu of it, beside it and — yes — even with it. Absolutely, we can learn to harness our fear to even fuel our efforts, spinning it into an exciting challenge and a problem to solve rather than an insurmountable wall that stops us. So just understand this: Fear and art is a very natural and normal association that’s only really mediated by curiosity, hope, love, courage, confidence, and a whole lotta moxie. Light those up within you then and you’ll launch yourself into the right trajectory!

Complicating matters even more, many folks believe that inspiration is like a light switch, it’s either on or it’s off, and that inspiration is enough to get us from Point A to Point Z on our creative safari. Nope. Inspiration exists on a spectrum, on the one end being like a raging torrent that whisks us away uncontrollably with fireworks and heavy artillery firing off everywhere while on the other end, being like an ethereal wisp of smoke that must be painstakingly cajoled into being or allowed its own time to percolate into something more tangible. And then everything in between. It can even tickle your toes for decades before welling up into action! Whatever it is, each artist feels it in their own way, sometimes in different ways at different times, making it as mysterious and mercurial as a waking dream. But inspiration needs help — it cannot carry our motivations on its own. All it can do is provide the ignition, the flame, but it’s our job to keep that stoked and blazing with our love, patience, perseverance, stubbornness, curiosity, hard work, sacrifice, gumption, courage, and a whole lotta diligent problem-solving and slogging through the tedium. Think of your inspiration more as a quest then. Not necessarily the goal per se — because our visions are impossibly perfect in our mind’s eye — but the beacon that guides us on a creative journey chockfull of surprise detours, obstacles, challenges, enlightenments, and curiosities. And it’s okay to end up in a totally different destination! Sometimes that happens with art, the piece simply changed its mind and decided to take another route. No problemo, my friend. It’s all a normal aspect of arting. It’s a mystery.

However, if you sit around, waiting for “inspiration to strike,” you’ll be waiting around — and not creating your art — for a very, very long time. Because that’s not how inspiration works most of the time. Sure, we can get a random inspirational lightning strike and take off with it like a crazed ferret. It happens. And it’s an amazing feeling! But even so, the vast majority of the time, inspiration isn’t like this, like a light switch, like an on-off button. It’s not really like a dry well that all of a sudden fills with water. It’s more like the water itself and you’re the well. Like Pablo Picasso said, “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” You see, you’re a dry well when you aren’t creating yet inspiration usually needs something to work with to get going — it needs its pump primed. So if you just start arting — doing anything creative, in any direction — all of a sudden, that inspiration will crank up like magic! And honestly, get your creativity really going and watch your inspiration turn into a self-propagating, self-sustaining machine, spewing out inspirations like an uncontrolled firehose. Then it becomes a game of simply keeping up! You see, inspiration feeds on itself and that catalyst is often creativity, not the other way around. So just get to work — do anything creative. Beading, journaling, pottery, sketching, flatwork, photography, collage, mosaic, knitting, even cooking, sewing, scrapbooking, quilting, and gardening…whatever. Heck, even deeply listening to music can be a highly effective means to get the inspiration fired up. Take some classes or workshops. Go to a paint n’ sip. Dabble. Experiment. FAFO with your media. Try new media or methods. Get in the weeds and find your way out. But the counter-intuitive gist of all this is: The only cure for sluggish even absent inspiration is to just make art. That’s actually the answer to every single creative problem — make more art. Just make more art. “Good” art, “bad” art, it doesn’t matter. Just bang it out. “Whether you succeed or not is irrelevant, there is no such thing. Making your unknown known is the important thing,” said Georgia O’Keeffe, and that about sums it up. Definitely don’t worry about how “good” it is — the important part is to just do it. “Don't think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it's good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art,” astutely advised Andy Warhol.

What’s the point of all this? Well, that the creative state of mind and therefore the creative act is a messy one. It’s not a one-note Perfect Moment, it’s not a straight line. Instead, it’s loaded with a host of “imperfections” that flavor it, and that’s okay! In fact, that’s kinda its hallmark, isn’t it? Creativity is just a chaotic business, so make peace with that and learn to work within its ever-morphing bubble. “In the middle of all the mess, there’s a quiet kind of magic waiting for you. Embrace the chaos, because that’s where your most authentic and beautiful creations come to life,” said Arastasia. Truth!

Recommended watching:

Your Elusive Creative Genius, Elizabeth Gilbert

Success, Failure, and the Drive to Keep Creating, Elizabeth Gilbert

The Power of Vulnerability, Brené Brown

Recommended reading:

Moving Forwards With Fear

Failure Fatigue: Coping With The Cycle Of Faceplants In Art

Busted

Riding The Rollercoaster

Now About Those Anatomy Charts, Part I and Part II

Paralyzed By Perfection: Breaking Free Of the Cycle

The Imperfect World

Life as an artist isn’t a bowl of cherries whatsoever. It’s hard. Really, hard. Really really really hard. You have to be truly impassioned with what you do, utterly in love with your work, to simply continue doing it much of the time. Like aside from all the technical, logistical, financial, legal, philosophical, and familial challenges it ushers in, there’s the very real mental health challenges. Mental health? Yes. You see, it’s not your art that will take its toll on you, it’s the world at large that will. It will take its pound of flesh again and again and again. Unfortunately, there are just those out there who’ll quite obviously delight in tormenting you and will shred your work because they can or because they’re simply too callously thoughtless to behave otherwise. It’s like having an ongoing, unstoppable trolling comments section in your life you can’t turn off — and our niche community is particularly vocal in this regard. As such, you’re going to be constantly bombarded with thrown knives aimed directly at you that you can neither dodge nor block. You simply have to take the hits graciously — and do it all over again and again with the creation of every new piece. That’s the Faustian bargain, the trade-off for this blessed life, the price you pay living the artistic life. In this imperfect world, there has to be some sour to balance out the sweet, right? In an imperfect world, discordant notes will be loud and repeating, too. Try to reconcile with that.

Likewise, there’s no rhyme or reason to what the gestalt will go bonko over. I’ve seen more outstanding masterpieces meet with crickets, even criticism, with really problematic work gaining wild kudos and glowing reviews than I can count. I’ve seen so much technical accuracy lose in the ring to technical errors, realistic expression lose to conventional comfort zones, and glowing workmanship on a “plain” color lose to flawed “flash.” I mean, the groupthink claims to want realism, but some just don't know what that actually is, or when it’s right in front of them, they think it’s wrong. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this biz, it’s that some tastes are strongly conventional and can rely heavily on the lowest common denominator comfort zone. Anything that actually presents actual realism yet lies outside those comfort zones will have a more difficult time of it. It’s so strange! One wonders if some collectors have actually ever seen a living horse at all. So what’s the point here? Just do the best you can with where you are on your learning curve, and let the chips fall where they may. Create your art your way for you, for your own reasons and motivations, according to your original visions and inspirations, and any successes are merely an incidental cherry on top. Because the truth is the likelihood of you finding applause out there can be surprisingly slim. Indeed, "do what you feel in your heart to be right — for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't," advised Eleanor Roosevelt, and well, any comments section proves her absolutely right. So don’t chase kudos! Don’t seek external validation! Don’t give one wit to “likes”! Quit with the comparisons! If you build your “home” on top of all of that, you’re doomed to crash in a flimsy house of cards.

And then there is always That Guy Who Just Wants To Help, i.e. the “friendly unsolicited critique.” Ugh. These people, lemme tell ya. The tone deafness, the presumption, the denial of your Truth, and all wrapped up in a friendly, “helping” bow. Yikes. Sure many claim they have good intentions — but do they really? I would argue that, no, they usually don’t. Like they want to make your vision like their vision — that’s wrong. They want to impose on your creative space — that’s wrong. They want to “save” you from a big mistake without understanding the backstory of your Truth or your references — that’s wrong. They want to make a “correction” without understanding their own blindspots, biases, and conventions — that’s wrong. They want to hear their own voice sound more knowledgeable — that’s wrong. Just pick it all apart, and their claim of good intentions simply falls apart. The fact of the matter is this: Unless something is outright dangerous or really jerky, there’s absolutely no circumstance that justifies an unsolicited critique. Not one. But oh—how so many love to chime in all the same! So learn to ignore it or process it best you can with plenty of coping mechanisms. Turn off comments sections or flat out ignore comments in your posts. Just remember that your work only has one relationship — with you and only you. Keep that a closed circuit when it comes to public sentiments. It’ll keep your work true to your Voice, authentic, unique, and you sane and balanced and still motivated to art.

Likewise, we’re going to abut up against problematic comments, even rudeness and obnoxiousness, when we display our work in public, and especially when we put it up for sale. For example, people will often ask, “How long did it take you to do that?” A simple enough question at first, but pick it apart and it reveals itself as something rather offensive, doesn’t it? Think about it. What are they really trying to find out? Yep. They’re adding up the price tag as compared to the hours you inputted to determine if your paycheck — if your living wage — is appropriate. Eeesh. So never answer this question. Simply distract from it with something like, “It takes as long as it takes,” then change the subject. Similarly, some people will comment that our work is just “too expensive,” or in other words, too expensive for their pocketbook, making the typical mistake of equating their experience as appropriate for everyone else’s experience. Instead, either ignore the comment and change the subject, or counter with something like, “I do offer a payment plan or here are my lower priced items that might interest you.” Along those lines, you’ll probably also encounter the all-too-common comment, “I could do that myself for nothing!” So what I do is counter with, “Well, you should! Make your own sculpture — it’s good for you! Arting is good for you!” And wow—how quickly they limp away. The point is, people will blurt out truly nonsensical blather so you should have an arsenal of coping mechanisms and responses that get the point across while still remaining professional. When you’re prepared and ready for it, you won’t be caught off guard to make a professional blunder. You also won’t be so anxious because you’ll be armed and ready to deploy, a much more empowered position.

Recommended watching:

Why Your Critics Aren’t The Ones Who Count, Brené Brown

Recommended reading:

The Critic In The Creative Space

Arting In A Bubble: An Empowering Way To Create Art

A New View: Transforming Intimidation Into Inspiration

Redefining Success: Some Thoughts On True Accomplishment

The Comparison Trap: How To Make It Work For You

Pickled Art

The Artist As Other

Conclusion to Part II

Phew! That was a lot to process, huh? But give it a good think. Because if we want to become creative or remain creative, we’ve got to reconcile with imperfection in some functional way. Because a lot of people don’t, and so a lot of people live their life as a squelched would-be artist and that entails a measure of existential pain. Somewhere deep down, they long for something they’re too afraid to grasp, and all too often it’s that fear of imperfection that’s the root cause. And that's a darned shame because it's avoidable.

You see, art, creativity, is your birthright. You come from a long line of creatives back to the very beginning. Homo sapien just has this ingrained penchant for making things needlessly beautiful. Like a bow more ornate than it needed to be, or a cup more beautiful than it needed to be, or an axe more decorated than it needed to be, and on and on. We are a creator species — it’s in our blood, our very DNA. And it’s in you, too. So don’t deny it out of fear! Embrace it in love! Arting is so good for you in so many ways! Even more, imperfection isn’t to be feared or appalled by, it shouldn’t be a seat of anxiety or hesitation — it should be your starting point! So start as miraculously imperfect as you can then just tweak things along the way until you get them “just so” to your liking. That’s how art works! It asks you to take that leap of faith and it will catch you — but only if you take that leap! So jump!

“One of the basic rules of the universe is that nothing is perfect. Perfection simply doesn't exist…Without imperfection, neither you nor I would exist.”

- Stephen Hawking

The Dented Can: Creating Imperfectly In An Imperfect World Part I

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 29 Mar 2026 15:47:00 +0000

Introduction

You know what’s strange? Nearly every single other endeavor expects a beginner to perform below average at what they’re learning for the first time. Like, does anyone really expect a newbie to be reprogramming the Eastern seaboard within twenty-four hours after they first learn basic programming? No. Every other profession brings with it an expectation of a learning curve, of taking the time and effort, sacrifice and hardship to improve and reach a level of proficiency.

But not when it comes to art.

Curiously in contrast, when it comes to making art, many people seem to expect themselves to do far far better than their actual experience, training, and Sight warrants. In fact, many expect their art to be perfect right out of the gate, exactly as it is in their head as though the translation from our Vision to our hands was a direct, unimpeded translation.

But art doesn’t work that way.

In fact, in few other pursuits can our final product end up not jiving with our vision more so than in art. We may start with this clear vision in our head but sometimes we end up either far from our mark or with something different entirely! Indeed, I’ve been at this art gig for over forty years, and I’m still learning hustles just to keep pace with my visions and expectations. It takes a lot, and a whole lotta sacrifice, courage, and gumption. In this, arting isn’t really something we just do. Even the most casual creative effort entails a Path, a Way that asks us to dig deep and wrestle with some pretty big themes.

And those themes start early. Isn’t every child a born artist? Yes — yes they are. Any box of crayons or pot of Play-Doh can testify to that. But somehow, for any number of reasons, that natural desire to art gets beaten down in so many of us, who then grow up into creatives who have become fearful of their creative drives, and so we all lose. As Brené Brown observed…

Let me sum up what I’ve learned about creativity from the world of Wholehearted living and loving: “I’m not very creative” doesn’t work. There’s no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don’t. Unused creativity doesn’t just disappear. It lives within us until it’s expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear. The only unique contribution that we will ever make in this world will be born of our creativity. If we want to make meaning, we need to make art. Cook, write, draw, doodle, paint, scrapbook, take pictures, collage, knit, rebuild an engine, sculpt, dance, decorate, act, sing—it doesn’t matter. As long as we’re creating, we’re cultivating meaning.

And one of the worst fears when it comes to arting is imperfection, that fear of inadequacy, of failing to convey our vision perfectly, of making mistakes, coming up short, of ridicule and shame, and that pesky notion that we’re "not enough,” all of which can solidify into a sturdy creative roadblock that can actually stop someone from being creative outright.

This is the perfidious toxicity of perfection. It sits out there, taunting us mercilessly and so we chase it — but it always seems to stay just out of reach of our grasping hands. This isn’t because we’re inadequate or not trying hard enough, it’s because perfection is an illusion, a sham, a con, a myth — a delusion. It’s an impossible task. It’s the lie we tell ourselves and each other as the secret of success. But what usually ends up happening is that this demand for perfection is actually a subtle, systemic form of bullying. Because think about it — browbeating someone, expecting someone to achieve something unachievable isn’t only monumentally unreasonable, it’s a form of torment. This is exactly why perfection stops so many people from being creative — they instinctively wish to avoid that torture whether imposed by others or welled up inside of themselves. And it also explains why so many are hesitant to be creative in our art form because look at the ridiculousness of the goal! Yet look how we continue to lift this bogus notion up onto a pedestal, even right from the start of our art career then ceaselessly pursue it like Don Quixote on an exhausted horse again and again and again. Then we beat ourselves up when we inevitably fall short, as if it was some big surprise.

Stop. Just stop.

Because there’s light at the end of this absurd tunnel! There is a way to put perfection in its place, even in our perfection-driven art form. There is a way to navigate the expectations out there and within our own heads to find satisfaction in our creativity even when it’s as imperfect as it can get. And there is a way to find joy again in our arting no matter the outcome — you can find it again and keep it burning bright! Because the sooner we realize how unreasonable perfection actually is, the sooner we find freedom, expression, and confidence in our arting. Even better, we perhaps find our Voice, the true gift given to each of us that finds its purest expression in our creativity. So let’s talk about some ideas that can keep us dodging those pointy sticks our little perfection goblins keep jabbing at us so we can not only make some real progress in our creativity, but find our enthusiasm for it again as well.

In this the real trick is as difficult to do as it is simple to say: To accept imperfection as not only a part of arting, but even bigger, as a part of life itself, and a part of you as well. To embrace imperfection not only as an inevitability in an imperfect world, but to recognize the humanity it actually contains. Any machine can bang out seemingly perfect whatsits, for example, but only a human being can infuse imperfection into the mix to make each one wholly unique, all by accident too. And it’s in that where the beaut of imperfection is to be found, a beauty that elevates art even higher, transcending even the inspiring vision itself. So let’s discuss all these big ideas to help us wrestle with our own perfection goblins to put them in a firm headlock! It’s time to stop bullying yourself and each other! So let's explore all these issues in this three-part series about this pesky, highly mobile goalpost...so letsa go!…

The Imperfect Goal

That vision in our head sure seems perfect, doesn’t it? Isn’t it a gleaming, glorious, wildly inspiring concept in our head that seems just within reach, there for the taking? Doesn’t it capture our hearts, our guts, our soul, and fascinate us like bonkers? Yes — yes it does. It has to, on purpose. Because if it didn’t, would we be so prone to stop what we’re doing to realize it through art? It has to be a beaming bright inspiration to get us off our duff to manifest it into reality with a single-minded determination that can only be described as a possession, an obsession, a mania. It has to absolutely captivate us in order to make itself real through us. But the important bit about all this is to recognize this unavoidable truth: There’s no way to translate that vision into reality as perfect as it exists in our mind’s eye. That’s the Catch-22, the perfect dilemma of all creativity from the beginning of time. “No artist is pleased,” revealed Martha Graham. “No satisfaction whatever at any time…There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching…” she astutely observes. And she’s right on the money.

So while our vision may be exquisitely perfect in our mind, our goal should be far more grounded and reasonable: The acceptance that we’ll unavoidably fail, being fallible, imperfect human beings in an imperfect world. So the goal then becomes to fail forwards, to express the creative blessings we’re given as we art and find our hallelujah in that. Maybe it’s to expand our knowledge base or skillset, maybe it’s to explore some theme or narrative, perhaps it’s to express some curiosity about structure, composition, color, or pattern, maybe it could just be the creation of an inspiring pretty horse, or it could be something else…whatever. But whatever failing forwards means to us, that should be our imperfect goal with every piece we ever create. As Vince Lombardi said, “Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence.” Once we accept that our vision is fundamentally unattainable then, we quickly learn to grasp at what we can grab and work with that to the best of our abilities at that moment on our learning curve. Then soon enough, we’ll learn to make peace, to reconcile with the inevitable imperfection of our art to instead find jubilation in the doing and in what we did accomplish despite it all.

Recommended reading:

Vision Conniptions: Managing Our Mind’s Eye In Art

The Perfectionist Paradox

Paralyzed By Perfection: Breaking Free Of The Cycle

Gadding About With The Goblin: The Little Brat Beside Every Artist

The Imperfect Journey

I’m sure you’re keenly aware of this already: Our creative journey is imperfect, too. There’s really no unchallenged smooth sailing with any piece, is there? There’s always a detour, a surprise, a correction, maybe even a pothole to be found with every piece we undertake. It’s all part of the arting experience. That grail vision of perfection may be leading us on in perfect glory, but it’s a rugged landscape we stumble through in reality!

In this, the Japanese celebration of imperfection, wabi-sabi, comes in quite handy to process this contradiction. In wabi-sabi, it’s the journey, not the destination — the making of art, not the finished piece — that holds the value in the arting experience. Like what peace, satisfaction, enlightenment, sanctuary, purpose, and meaning did you find in the making of your art? As such, we’re asked to be present in the process, to acknowledge and enjoy every moment, every tool strike or brushstroke, even if it’s driving us bananas. Be aware, be present, be one with the process. But the point is this: The journey is inherently an imperfect one, that there’s more value to be found in the struggle, pursuit, and exploration of it than in the presumed perfection of the finished product. That imperfection itself is the art.

This is so liberating because it removes the value placed on our completed piece, making it something more incidental, to instead plunk it onto the journey getting there. And what’s more, it accepts that all works made in this world are flawed, are imperfect, will always come up short compared to our perfect vision, but that this isn’t only perfectly okay, it’s perfectly normal and actually preferred. That there is tremendous beauty, novelty, and meaning to be found in the imperfections in our art and effort, features far more important to our soul than impossible perfection. Indeed, there’s the old and revered art form of kintsugi (or kinsukuroi, meaning “gold joinery”) in which broken pottery is mended, but gold leaf is used to actually showcase the cracks and chips that are now part of the piece’s story. In this, the broken piece has actually become more beautiful by being broken, it’s story now more unique and complex than before. Sounds a bit like life, doesn’t it? Well, the same is to be said of our art, too! It becomes more meaningful, unique, and lovely because of our “errors,” our individualism and humanity poured into it, not some kind of “perfection” that has all that scrubbed out. Something to think about.

But the journey happens on a bigger stage as well. Know it or not, but all artists are on the Hero’s Journey as described by Joseph Campbell. He broke down this iconic quest into three phases: separation, initiation, and return. For artists, this is how it plays out:

You feel inspired to be creative, your art calls to you (separation).
You embrace the unknown and uncertainty to create it, facing your demons, especially the ones that insist “you’re not good enough,” “you’re not ready,” or “it needs to be absolutely perfect or you’ll have failed” (initiation).
You create something that enriches the world: Your art, your Voice, your Truth (return).

Yes — yours is an epic journey! This can be why it’s such a daunting one for so many because asks for so much courage. As Henri Matisse observed, “Creativity takes courage.” Yup, yes it does. But you got this! Just as long as you don’t get stuck where most would-be artists get stuck: In the initiation phase. And it’s not because they lack the vision, skill, or talent, it’s because they’re asking the wrong questions of themselves…

Why can’t I make this perfect, what’s wrong with me?
Who do I think I am to become an artist?
Is my work good enough?
Why can’t I do this as good as so-and-so?

You see, those are questions that derive from our fear, they’re dis-empowering questions. Instead, we should be asking questions born of our strengths, empowering questions. So consider these instead:

What’s my next artistic goal?: Not in my dreams, not someday, not tomorrow — now. Next. And be highly specific such as finishing a piece, prepping a resin, scoring your first juried show, composing the next piece, learning a new media, learning color theory, tinkering with your prices, taking a class, trying a whole new form of sculpture or painting, etc. The more you can break it down into a nice babystep, the better — something immediately attainable. This is how we build tangible progress, through lots of well-crafted babysteps.
Why does my art matter to me?: Learn to “come home,” as Elizabeth Gilbert would say. Your epic journey will fling you into wild success and horrendous failure, both equally traumatic, and you’ve got to “find your way home” each and very time that happens. We do that by building our “home” right on top of what makes our arting matter to us in the most profound way so no matter what our journey throws at us, we stay empowered to keep cranking out art. So ask yourself why do you create this kind of art? Also ask, why this subject matter? And perhaps the most profound question of all — why is your art calling to you now? Why this drive in the first place? And dig for the deep answers, too, not just because “horses are beautiful.” Keep asking “why?” Excavate deep into your motivations and inspirations.
What resources do I already have at my disposal?: Many artists tend to fixate on what they don’t have rather than what they do, tending to be deprivation-centered types. Well, stop that. Instead, focus and build on what you do have like your skills, experience, moxie, curiosity, courage, resilience, space, time, connections, tools, ambition, inspirations, etc. If you take real stock, you see you actually have quite the arsenal! So gather it all up and put it to work, building from there.
What do I want out of my success? How do I want that to look and feel? This is a pretty big question and how you answer will shape your creative future, so be painfully honest with yourself for your own sake, for your art’s sake. Do you want a side hustle? Do you want a sanctuary? Do you want to exercise your artistic Voice? Do you want to make a living at it? Do you want expression? Balance? Fame? An exploration? Communication and connection? Celebration? Just what is it? And it can be many things, so tease them all out. But identify these goals with your art and you’ll tend to pick pathways that best align with your Voice and pass over those that are needless distractions. Absolutely, once we know how we want our success to be like, we’ll plot our course towards it with more clarity. On that note then, it’s also important to have our own measures of success rather than throwing our expectations into the four winds. This grounds us and keeps us on the journey that aligns with our Voice, and best serves our mental health and therefore our drive to keep arting.
What will I spend my energy on?: When it comes to being a creative, what you spend your energy on is everything! See, you only have a finite amount of time on Earth, only so many hours in a day, and only so much “water in your well.” As Crista Cloutier observes, “Everything is currency: money, time, attention, emotion.” And she goes on to push, “Are you spending yours on stuff, drama, and comparison…or on learning, making work, building relationships, and taking tiny brave steps? Travel light artist. The less you drag along, the further you can go.” Be extraordinarily careful with what you spend your energy on! The more miserly you are with it, the more you have to focus on your art goals (with the exception of family, friends, and living, of course). That means give your time sinks or penchant for drama, your spinning wheels and procrastinations a deep and sometimes painful rethink. You see, your baggage — which is what determines where your spend your energy — can inhibit your progress in ways more tricksie than having an inadequate skillset or knowledge base. So keep that energy beam as focused on your art goals as possible!
Who can and what will help me on my journey?: Who are your inspirations? Your mentors, sages, and guides? Who are your colleagues and peers? Your connections and networks? Your community? What orgs or groups do you belong to? Who are your cheerleaders? And here’s a big one — do you feed your inspiration or do you starve it and then get frustrated when it doesn’t deliver? Remember, your muse is one of your supports, too! But wrap it all up and the truth is no artist finds success alone, at least not the ones who prosper. It’s a group effort. But critically important, but most often ignored in our niche market, is our public image. How we come across in the public eye — our PR — is the very basis of our success. If it’s great, we’re golden, but if it’s tarnished or grody, we’re toast. So everything you do or post or say in public, sometimes even in private, is a part of your PR so pay it careful attention. The fact of the matter is this: Many folks simply won’t support an artist that comes across poorly or problematically, for good reason. So always act in ways that ensure your brand is on point to serve your goals best. Along those lines, this also means we need to behave in a professional way, at all times. Not only is this good for your own name, but this also attracts fellow professionals to collaborate with you. Never forget then that your behavior and associations aren’t only a reflection on you, but on your collaborators as well. If you misstep bad enough then, don’t be surprised if collaborators distance themself from you. All together then, a successful studio is built on many points of support so reach out, build relationships, feed your inspiration, be mindful of your brand and PR, and act in professional ways, and you’ll find questing companions soon enough!

Do you see how shifting the attitude in your question-asking changes everything? And the more honestly you answer those questions, the better. The truth is your journey is your apprenticeship, your testing ground and learning landscape. Hey, it’s said that Michelangelo quipped at eighty years old, “At last my apprenticeship is finished, I am ready to begin.” This means that there is no perfect time to start your Path — so just start! You’ll figure things out as you go and sure, you’ll stumble and end up in the brush, but you’ll find your way out, right? Of course. So as Kris Kringle sings in that Christmas Rankin-Bass classic…

Put one foot in front of the other

And soon you'll be walking 'cross the floor

You put one foot in front of the other

And soon you'll be walking out the door

You never will get where you're going

If ya never get up on your feet

Come on, there's a good tail wind blowin'

A fast walking man is hard to beat

Recommended reading:

Becoming An Artist: How to Make Art like a Human by Embracing Failure, Discovering Your Creative Voice and Finding Joy in the Process by Scott Christian Sava

Wabi-Sabi and Realism: Strange Bedfellows

Your Voice: What Makes Your Art Special

Journation: A Symbiosis For Growth

The Fame Game

Nature vs Nurture: The Question of Talent or Skill

Priming The Pump: Inspiring Your Inspiration

Finding Your Fingerprint: Artist Branding

Conclusion to Part I

Clearly, the artistic Path isn’t as cut and dry as some people would believe. It takes hardwork, sacrifice, resilience, and vision to carve out a presence in any genre, but luckily our niche art form tends to be quite welcoming of good work. Thank goodness!

Even so, creating art is always a challenge in more ways than one so unless we’re willing to meet that challenge, we won’t be arting for very long. And that’s a darn shame. We need more people in our community happily arting away. We literally need everyone on deck! Why? Because of three beneficial reasons. First, it gets more people on the other side of the studio door and that spells better treatment of the creative process and artists as more folks get on the same page. Second, it fills up our classes and pushes the issue of the Novice and DIYer divisions ever more urgently. The sooner our shows can flip their priorities to benefit these groups, the better. And third, a group that creates together, sticks together better. It simply strengthens bonds and connections, it builds community and camaraderie, things we need a lot more of. Art has this miraculous ability to heal hearts and build connections where words and action simply fail.

Anyway, in Part II, we’ll continue our exploration with the Imperfect Notion and the Imperfect World, two biggies that entail some weighty issues. So until next time, it’s perfectly okay to be gloriously imperfect! That’s your humanity showing through so flaunt it!

“Have no fear of perfection — you'll never reach it.”

- Salvador Dali

Gadding About With The Goblin: The Little Brat Beside Every Artist

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Wed, 18 Mar 2026 15:17:00 +0000

Introduction

Every artist is accompanied through life by a little goblin at their side. Yes — each and every one. Even the most accomplished artists. And this little goblin happens to have a big voice, one that yammers in our ear more than we’d like. What does it squeal about? Simple: It seeks to prevent us from arting in the first place. That's its purpose, its passion and it finds many ways to do that.

In particular, this little goblin is especially loud and aggressive with suppressed-artists, those folks who squish down their creativity to the point where they don’t even art at all. Indeed, as Brené Brown observed…

There’s no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don’t. Unused creativity doesn’t just disappear. It lives within us until it’s expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear.

It’s true. Everyone is born an artist! Every single one of us. Indeed, you were a child once with a strong and fearless creative drive with your markers, crayons, and Play-Doh. You had your childlike imagination and a want to express it, right? Of course you did! The mind of a child is a wondrous thing! But then that drive just waned, didn’t it? It just seemed to go to sleep inside of you, leaving you feeling emptier, less engaged, less you. Well, you can thank that little goblin for that unfortunate turn of events and, yes, it can be that powerful and long-lasting. But that drive didn’t actually evaporate away — it’s still there, waiting to be tapped and expressed. And this is important: Your creativity is important! In fact, it's life-changing. As Brené Brown further declares…

The only unique contribution that we will ever make in this world will be born of our creativity. If we want to make meaning, we need to make art. Cook, write, draw, doodle, paint, scrapbook, take pictures, collage, knit, rebuild an engine, sculpt, dance, decorate, act, sing — it doesn’t matter. As long as we’re creating, we’re cultivating meaning.

Bingo! Some call it purpose, some call it a Path, some call it fulfillment and satisfaction, some call it dabbling, some call it sanctuary, some call it decompression, some call it a mystery, but whatever it is, it waits for you. And, yes, it can be something within your reach if only you have the impetus to grab it! Don't you owe it to yourself to be your complete self again? Don't you owe it to all those visions in your mind's eye, eager to manifest through you? Indeed, there's more at stake here than you think. "That stroke you are about to make on a painting is as much you as the next word you utter or the next breath you take," said Harley Brown. Indeed.

As for would-be artists, those who still have an active drive but hesitation to create, this goblin has actually set up a proverbial dam in your artistic flow to block you. And so you have this turmoil inside, as your flow keeps crashing against that dam, making an internal mess. And so you deny it to cope or wrestle with it on the down lo, living a kind of creative angst as your creative side tries to break free of these confines. And it can drive you nuts. Artist, you must be what you are! The Universe is calling you to your purpose! Don’t ignore it! It's time to grab that Acme dynamite and blow apart that darned dam! "If you hear a voice within you say, 'You cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced," said Vincent Van Gogh. Bingo.

When it comes to active artists though, now they’re a different bunch. They have their goblins by their side, make no mistake. And they can be particularly clever and shrill goblins to boot. But no matter…rather than live in subjugation or conflict, active artists have learned to walk forwards with their goblins, and despite all their incessant screeching and obstructionist antics. They’ve learned to live with that pesky thing despite it all, maybe even make friends with it, learning to listen to its blather without being defeated by what it says. They just keep moving forwards with their arting, come hell or high water. "The object isn't to make art, it's to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable," said Robert Henri. Yup.

So yes — you have this goblin beside you, too, as sure as the sun rises. You hear it, I know you do, but you may be denying it to cope, or perhaps you're misinterpreting its intent, misreading the message. Either way, it’s probably compromising your creativity already and in this, we want to address it head-on to get you back to arting! So let’s turn and look at our goblin, let’s talk about it so we, too, can learn to live with it better to get on with the delightful business of creativity!

The Goblin’s Manifesto

So what is this pesky little bother? Who is this goblin that bleats in our ear so often? Why, of course, it’s the ever-present, and all-too-loud “Not Enough” goblin. That little voice that constantly whispers — or yells, depending on how active your goblin is — “You’re not enough to create art, you’re not enough to be an artist, you’re not enough to do good art, you’re not enough to be anything more than you are, you're not enough to be anything more than you were allowed to be, you're not enough to be more than a one-hit wonder, you’re not enough, not enough, not enough…” And on it goes, ad nauseam like a broken record. Ugh!

And this little goblin can poke you with many sharp sticks: Imposter syndrome, insecurities, procrastination, fear of success, perfectionism, laziness, avoidance, envy, irritation with materials or surroundings, self-doubt, fixation on the achievements of others, comparisons, fighting deadlines, spinning our wheels and not calling “done,” fear of failure, chasing external validation, quitting mid-way, boredom, incessant distraction, and on and on. Quite literally, your little goblin’s DNA is fear, evolving into a host of manifestations to stop you with “I’m not enough” being its pure genetic expression.

But there’s more to this equation than just the goblin, isn’t there? Yes — in the most important way! Why? Because there’s you! You’re part of this dynamic just the same, and you bring to the table an arsenal of Truths that, when embraced in all their prickly authenticity, are far more powerful and compelling than any shrill goblin.

The Truth, Your Truth

The thing is, “I’m not enough” really isn’t about creating art at all. That’s the irony of it. Your art is your art — it exists on its own terms, ready to deploy at your command. You just gotta smack that button! As counter-intuitive as that seems then, the Truth is that “I’m not enough” is more about what’s lurking inside your psyche: Your history, your personal narrative, your hurts and wounds, your wishes, dreams, and longings, and even your desire to be more than you were told you could be, more than you were allowed to be. Perhaps life beat creativity down in you, maybe someone you trusted was cruel or careless, maybe things went sideways to sideline your art. It could be any number of reasons, but the fact remains, the Not Enough goblin is speaking too persuasively in your ear. So how do we get it to chill out?

Well, the annoying thing is, Not Enough won’t ever pipe down. Fear is simply part of being human and part of the creative journey every artist must walk. But those who walk with the most poise are those who hear their goblin yet stride forwards despite it, side-by-side. But how do we get to that point? How do we walk with our goblin in confidence when it’s telling us things that specifically corrode our courage? Well, my friend, the only way around it, is through it. Rather than wait for the goblin to go away — it won’t — or lessen a bit in its yelling — it won’t — or change its tune — it won’t, we’ve got to face our goblin head on and have a decent conversation with it. Yes — we must face it. There’s no avoiding this step — all successful artists have done it and continue to speak with their goblins, and you can, too. Just be ready, because in so doing, you’ll probably have to ask some deeply personal, perhaps even painful questions about the kinds of things that actually stop artists from arting. For instance, rather than fixating on these questions:

Why can’t I do this? What’s wrong with me?
Why is everything I create so bad? Do I not have any talent?
Why can’t I create my piece as good as so-and-so?
This shouldn’t be so hard! Why am I struggling so much?
So-and-so makes it look so easy! Do I just not have the ability?
This didn’t come out at all like I wanted it to, what’s the point?

No no no. That’s your goblin speaking again and you’re making the mistake of being thrown off balance by it. Because really, it’s not a matter of whether you believe it or not, it’s whether you allow yourself to be distracted by it! Work against that distraction! Focus! In that spirit then, consider these questions instead:

What am I afraid of if I fail?
What scares me if I succeed?
What part of me am I protecting if I don’t art, if I stay safe? Why is that so strong?
What narrative am I secretly adhering to? What storyline is really playing out inside me?
Did someone betray my trust and optimism to squelch my creativity? Why am I still giving them so much power?
Did an event or situation tarnish my drive to create art? That’s in the past, so why are I still stuck there?
Am I being distracted from creativity by other things? Why am I allowing that to happen?
What am I sacrificing of myself by not expressing my creativity? Why is that my choice?
If I was creative again, how do I think that would make me feel? What needs would be met?
What would some new goals be, if I was creative again?
Is Not Enough actually trying to protect me from something? Why? And is that really still relevant in my life?
What is Not Enough actually trying to tell me? (Dig deep.)

If you excavate deep enough and address these questions in total honesty — if you look Not Enough squarely in the eyes — you can come to a place of understanding and reconciliation, and what was once a struggle becomes a calling. In fact, with all this, you might even come to thank Not Enough, and even more, to reassure it and cradle it with encouragement rather than regard it with contempt or shame. Add it all up then, and perhaps your next steps will even become more deliberate and strategic, and not so reactive and blindly taken. So boil it all down, and the Truth is that arting doesn’t happen in the absence of Not Enough, with the dispersal of fear, it happens in spite of it. Learn to embrace Not Enough then, and go make some art!

Conclusion

The trick is not expecting to become fearless or pretending to be fearless. You will never not be fearful in your arting to some degree. Fear is simply a part of the human condition, and so a part of arting. So no…fear isn’t going anywhere. Instead then the real trick is to learn how to move forwards with your fear but on your own terms, to move forwards with No Enough right beside you, but you’re picking the routes this time, not that goblin. Take back the wheel! You know what Path to walk, don’t you? So just shove that goblin into line and start walkin’! Get going, just start moving forward, one step at a time. Start small if you have to with baby steps, then work your way up to bigger ones, and sooner than you think, you’ll be running, coursing through your creative landscape with ground-sweeping strides! You see, creativity has a momentum and once it gets going, it’s very hard to stop, like a speeding train on greased tracks. So brave the Path that calls you, the route you know you’re meant to take, and hold that goblin’s hand nice and gently, and off you go!

You creativity sleeps and waits — longing, languishing, roiling. It slumbers inside you like a creative Cthulhu — but your supernatural powers were meant to be wide awake and stomping around, driving the world mad with your glorious creativity! So wake it up! Start casually if need be like go to a paint n’ sip, putter around in your art, work on something small and easy. Get that pump primed! After that perhaps, take some classes and workshops! They're all over the place and are a tremendous means to get the gears going. Then magic will happen — your art will start to nibble at your attention more than your goblin does until it’s taking big chompin’ bites and your fears give way to curiosity and enthusiasm! No goblin ever can withstand an onslaught of curiosity! "Stay firmly in your path and dare. Be wild two hours a day!," said Paul Gauguin. And as Carrie Kei Keim said, "You have a million excuses. Write anyway."

So allow your arting to consume you completely and you’ll finally know what it means to be you again, the fuller and more engaged you, the you you were always meant to be. Welcome back, my friend.

“What separates artists from ex-artists is that those who challenge their fears, continue; those who don't, quit. Each step in the artmaking process puts that issue to the test.”

― David Bayles

Sharpened Savvy: Using Pencils In Paintwork

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 08 Mar 2026 19:20:00 +0000

Introduction

You wanna know what's a nifty thingie for paintwork? Pencils! Yes! You can paint your piece with tremendous depth, precision, ease, and realism with a host of different pencils! Charcoal, conté, color pencils, pastel, oil...there's a plethora of options to explore! Each one has a slightly different effect and feel, so try as many as you can for a passel of effects and to see which you like best. But they're tremendous for dappling, hooves, facial shading, fleabites, speckling, ticking, primitive markings, and coloring the silky striations in manes, tails, and feathers, and a plethora of other touches.

What’s more, they offer a level of control, precision, and detail but paired with a smudge-ability and blur that few other mediums offer. Colorful, pigmented, and versatile, a pencil can be just the ticket for what you need! So let’s explore them further…

Pastel or Chalk pencils

I recommend the General's pastel chalk pencil in white (they come in other colors, too). Ed Gonzales got me onto this years ago and I've found it to be super useful for things like dappling, hooves, highlighting veins and capillaries, hooves, and facial shading. See, it being white makes it not just handy for dapple greys, but for any color if you can tint over it with a glaze. For example, just do your dappling, seal it with Dullcote, then tint over it with a colored glaze a few times to tint those dapples whatever color you want. So much pop! As such, I can use it for bays, chestnuts, palominos, whatever because tinting allows you to use it for solid coats, too. And it, being a sharpen-able pencil, can create all sorts of little details and "spokes" and branches to the dapples for that necessary jigsaw-puzzle-piece look so many types of dapples have like on dapple greys, sooty dapples, seasonal dapples, and some silver dapples (especially clipped ones). To add even more oomph, use a pointed Q-tip to smudge strategic portions to soften and blur portions so it all doesn't look so harsh and "penciled on" then spray with the Dullcote to set it all before proceeding to the next steps.

For feel, they're soft, powdery, and chalky, smudging very easily but depositing a lot of pigment even so. They often do best with a bit of smudging, too, as they'll look a bit too harsh and artificial as-is without some tinkering.

As another option, there’s the pencil option for pastels rather than just the pan or stick versions! Like, there’s the Faber-Castell pastel pencils, too, and they rock!

Conté Pencils

Try conté pencils for, say, the dark networking between dapples or to add that necessary dapple grey grain or to even detail out dapples even more or add speckles as needed. Then like with the General's pencil, you have to seal your conté work with Dullcote before proceeding. But I just love these pencils for dappling, networking, speckling, fleabiting, ticking, facial shadings, hoof work, all sorts of things. So handy!

As for feel, they work much like the General’s pastel chalk pencil, but are “stickier” in their pigment, or in other words, they don’t smudge as easily which is useful for certain effects. Think of them as an in-between a chalk/pastel pencil and a color pencil.

Color Pencils

You can layer color pencils for added coloration, detail, and depth, producing a whole array of possibility with extreme control and precision. Lesli Kathman tipped me off to these puppies years ago, and I’ve loved them ever since!

You can use Derwents (and try the oil-based ones, too, they're nifty!) and Faber-Castells and Prismacolors. Just keep in mind a couple of things between brands. Prismacolors are more waxy and so tend to produce more vivid color. However, they are much more prone to "bloom," or getting a cloudy cast if applied too heavily. In contrast, the Derwents are less waxy and so are harder and hold their points better, and are less prone to bloom, but they are less intense in color. So experiment between the brands to see which you prefer.

Consider using a burnisher to smooth or blur portions of color pencils (this is too powerful for the charcoal, oil, and pastel pencils). Just be careful not to press too hard or you'll rip up your paintwork. This helps to smooth or "de-grain" and buff strategic portions as you need them.

As for feel, these are stiffer and more precise, and not very smudge-able. They pretty much stay put. One thing though, the different colors of these pencils can react differently to sealers so be sure to test each one first on a junker before applying to your piece. For instance, some of the pale colors can essentially disappear under sealer whereas some colors like the yellows, golds, and ochres become much more vivid and garish, so adjust accordingly.

Tips

Now getting used to these pencils takes a bit of practice and experimentation to develop a feel for them, so practice on a junker first. Also experiment with layering pencils with glazes and paints and airbrushing or drybrushing. Indeed, pencils can be integrated into every aspect of your work and actually look better when you do most of the time. But there are some general tips to keep in mind with pencilwork, such as:

Keep pencils sharp with a really good sharpener, one that won't break your pencil core either. Or use an X-acto to shave a fine point if need be (be careful!). But you want that fine tip to really get all that detail in there without creating a blobby mess or "chatter." These puppies offer precision and detail, so allow them to do that for you with a sharp tip.
You don't have to press hard! Learn that gentle touch or you'll tear up your basecoat.
Stay in scale. It's very easy for pencilwork to go out-of-scale as regimentation sets in, so be sure to employ plenty of mediating tactics like taking breaks, working upside down, scaling down your references to the size of your piece, inverting the color on reference photos, counting dapples, and such.
Consider pencilwork as layers in your overall scheme. In other words, it works really well even when integrated with layers rather than just as stand-alone touches. For instance, I like to layer them with airbrushing, dry-brushing, washes, and even oils. That helps to "set them back" into the paintjob rather than looking penciled-on in an artificial sort of way. Pencilwork can really look "painted on top" if not set back into the paintjob with layering, expert color use, or blending.
Use Dullcote to seal and provide tooth again before proceeding to the next major step, especially if it involves glazes or paint layers. Charcoal, pastel, and conté pencils will just wash or smudge away without that step, and color pencils often need "re-toothing" for the next layer.
Strategically smudge and blur pencil work to make it “sit back” into the paintjob more otherwise they can look too harsh as times.
Be careful of color pencil "bloom" when they just get too waxy and cloud over. Keep your layers thin and Dullcote in-between them to add another layer rather than just trying to slather it all on in one go.
Pencilwork takes a lot of time so take breaks to avoid regimentation or formula. Take your time.
Squint your eyes to better judge the "lay of the land" with penciled dappling, and try to imagine it all "seated back" or tinted with the following layers. This is because pencil dappling can look really harsh when you first lay it on, and it's layering and smudging or burnishing that sits it back and makes it more subtle, blended, and nuanced.
Start your pencilwork early in the process, not as one of the last steps. You want to integrate it into your overall paintwork, and starting early helps you do that best.
Pencilwork is great for blocking in dappling to make a template. Like you can block it in with the General's white pencil to get it just so because if you don't like a portion, just wash it off with a damp Q-tip and redo that area! Easy peasy! Then Dullcote and then you can use paint or whatnot on top. But this gives you a lot less committed process that's so much more changeable than going in with paint right away.
Pencils are terrific for fleabiting, speckled, or lacey effects, even ticking. Just keep the pencil sharp. In particular, I find that conté pencils are particularly handy for these effects because they're "stickier" than a pastel pencil but more smudge-able than a color pencil if you want to diffuse them a bit with a pointed Q-tip.
Not only can you tint all this to colorize it how you want, but you can use different color color pencils to infuse different colors into your paintwork. They come in a huge array of colors so make use of them!
Store all pencils blunt-side down so the points are pointed upwards. That lets you see the colors immediately and protects the sharp tips.
Pencils are immensely helpful for hoofwork for all the different effects, so play around with them to see how great they are! In particular, they make "painting in the round" so much easier with all the up and down and sideways striations. But again, they do better when layered with multiple techniques, so experiment to find the process that works best for your methods.
Pencils are perfect for making the mane, tail, and feathers look striated and wispy. You can get as bold or as subtle as you want, too, and use different colors to shade and highlight as needed. Then consider layering in airbrushed striations to soften and blend, or oil paint tinting and blending to marry everything together.
Pencils are nifty for amplifying that inner core of a dapple grey dapple for that diffused effect. You know, how the middle is that intense color which diffuses on the edges? You can achieve that with an airbrush, but you often find yourself fighting it and you have less control. A pencil on the other hand, one that can be smudged or burnished, delivers every time!
Pencils are great for highlighting veins and capillaries as you can place them easily right on top of the vein, then smudge or burnish them a bit to soften and blend.
Pencils are handy for shading and highlighting facial details, too, like striations and wrinkling or whisker bumps. They're also useful for coloring the insides of shaved ears, highlighting those ribs inside the ear. Try it!

Conclusion

Pencils are just so super nifty for certain effects in realistic equine paintwork, it’s uncanny! It’s like they were made for some of the things we have to do, I'm surprised more folks don't use them. Like they make hoofwork so much easier! And the striations in manes and tails and feathers? Beautiful and wispy! And a pencil will never spread out like a brush, so your line will always be thin and controllable if you keep them sharp. So give them a try! They can offer just the touch or effect you're looking for with all the control and precision you could want! I recommend getting a white one, a black one, and maybe a couple of browns to play around with first, then as you get a feel for it all, you can expand into more colors. The neat thing is, they're relatively cheaper and last a long long time for our purposes, so consider tinkering with them. They're very accessible and friendly!

So grab your sharpener and make a pointed effort to explore the wonderful world of pencils! They're vibrant, versatile, and so very useful in so many ways! I think you'll be pleasantly surprised!

“We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.”

— Kurt Vonnegut

Neigh-rative: The Secret Ingredient To Emotive Equine Art

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Fri, 06 Mar 2026 21:44:00 +0000

Introduction

In our art form, realistic equine art, we seek to accurately capture the equine in miniature, down to the smallest detail. As such, most of the pieces created can be thought of as representational art, much like those technical illustrations found in old books and magazines, or the bajillions of portraits that have been created throughout history. It’s a “this is a horse,” sort of thing. This is fine, of course, nothing wrong with that! Representational art has a strong and highly respected foothold in the art scene.

But the truth is, is that all there is? Is that the extent of our potential? Is that really the only point to all this? Maybe not. Because we can’t deny that it’s those pieces that transcend representational art that hit us harder. Why? They’re simply more provocative, having far more impact, meaning, and chutzpah. In short, they have far more to “say” than simply “this is a horse.” But how does this happen? What’s the magic ingredient here?

Narrative.

It’s through narrative that we can elevate our work past representational art, imbuing it with far more emotive meaning. With that then, it’ll inspire the audience more profoundly, speaking directly to their sensibilities to maximize our creative efforts and the lasting impression of our work.

We cannot forget that all art is a form of expression, no matter how cursory. Even a simple five minute watercolor painting of a flower is a human yearning to be recognized and heard. A child’s drawing of a smiley-faced sun is a statement of individuality and expression. This is because in that expression lies an essential truth: Art is really about communication and connection. It’s one soul speaking to another through a visual language. In turn, it’s narrative that taps into all that to focus the language into a cohesive storyline, and that’s what’s going to intrigue the audience and pull them into our visual story.

Besides, while skill, talent, color, shape, and all the other elements of our art are critical for representational art, just as the mastery of any art is, once that skillset is developed, don't we have to do something with it? So like every song, movie, poem, play, dance, and novel has a story, a scenario, can't our equines tell a story, too? Truly, the intangible quality that separates the competent work from the great work is a deep ethos that guides every toolstrike or brushstroke.

So what is a “narrative” and how can we inject it into our work to lend it more weight? What kinds of narratives are there for our scope of work? What does it mean to have something to “say”? Well, let’s discuss it!…

The Power of Narrative

So what is a “narrative” anyway? And why is it so effective? Well, when your imagination creates stories and expresses them in clay or pigment, that’s narrative art. Quite simply, narrative tells a visual story, compelling the audience to ask questions, to want to know more, igniting their imaginations. Think of it this way: You’re capturing one moment in a lifetime or one frame in a full-length movie, using clay and paint to convey the story of that moment. This approach also allows the audience to add their own interpretation to the prequel and the sequel, capturing their attention and inspiring their own creativity, making your piece hit all the harder. All the technical finesse in the world aside, it’s the really great pieces that leave the audience wanting to know more about the depicted story, giving them something to think about and imagine beyond the moment captured. In this way then, really good narrative art doesn’t have to present conclusions, but leaves things open to individual interpretation, literally allowing the audience to custom-fit your piece into their own life story.

More specifically then, narrative is essentially the driving message, idea, or feeling — the core communication — you wish to convey through our piece. It’s the purposeful intent inspiring the creation of the piece, the backstory behind it. It’s the thread that will connect you to the audience, the foundation idea that sets the tone for a provocative reaction. Quite literally, the narrative transforms you into a storyteller, a director of you own movie of sorts, and therein lies a lot more potential. As such, you don’t seek a “this is a horse” piece, instead you’re trying to drive home some communication to make a connection, using the horse as the vehicle. And the audience doesn’t even have to know the full extent of the narrative to have such a piece hit them harder — it just does. Why? Because the creation of the piece was driven by weightier inspirations than simply “this is a horse” and that affects every aspect of its composition and execution. For instance, Stormwatch was created based on a solid backstory, an extensive narrative, that drove every aspect of his creation — and he hits hard. Really hard. Breyer’s Croi Damsha was also created based on a strong narrative, a core meaning, and she hits pretty hard, too. Breyer’s Cosimo is also supported by a core inspirational feeling, a founding sensibility, and he definitely grabs your imagination quickly. In Dreams was loaded with backstory that fueled her creation, and she certainly teleports you to her imagined moment pretty easily. And Bram was inspired by a very specific moment in time that seeped into every curve and line of his composition, and he certainly has a big impact. So infusing a narrative makes a big difference!

In this way, equine art can still be a “this is a horse” piece to satisfy our baseline focus, but all the while transcending that by employing a narrative to become a conduit for conveying meaning, to focus attention, to present a question, to raise awareness, and to inject weight and emotion to the visual message. Absolutely, used with intent, a narrative will direct the piece’s creation to add depth and consequence to the audience's interaction.

How To Infuse Narrative

So how do we actually apply a narrative in practice? Well, there are a few handy tricks! One is to think like a movie director insofar as your piece literally depicts a single frame in an ongoing movie, speaking to a specific moment in time. In this though, the most effective narrative pieces hint at preceding events and those still to come, so think how can you convey all that in your design.

Another trick is to consider how does your composition make you feel? What sense of place and moment and expression does it generate? Every toolstrike and brushstroke should then support that narrative. Indeed, what we do with our work is to use a visual means to convey information so chose the best composition and point of view to forward your story. For our brand of work then, we use pose, expression, gesture, posture, movement, line, curve, tone, shade, effect, even gender, age, and breed, and any number of other touches to communicate our message and imbue our work with personality and that elusive touch of soul. So is it dramatic, serene, dynamic, cute, lovely, workmanlike, or frightening, or whatever else? What is the driving impression behind your particular inspiration, behind your story?

This brings us to, third, create context. In this, both the emotional and situational context give a sense of space and time for your story, setting a specific tone and creating mood and atmosphere. This being so, we can even play with time. For instance, we can depict either a climatic event or, on the flip side, we can imply it by either portraying the moment before or after instead. In practice, this happens to be one tactic for building tension and depth to your narrative. Like what visual hints can you build into your moment that speak to your storyline? In this, try to immerse yourself in your own story. Imagine as though you were right there with that animal, experiencing the sounds, scents, sensations of that moment so you can better clarify and focus it all for your audience.

Then fourth, compel the audience to ask questions. Not beg questions — ask them, because they’re imaginatively curious about how your story started or continues. So we give the audience enough information to get their imaginations to work on extrapolating their own interpretations but not so much as to stop the story there. Again, what hints can we give them to continue it in their own minds?

Fifth, understand some useful elements of storytelling. Like what is the inciting incident that destabilizes the moment depicted in your story? Is it for good or ill? In response, how does your subject respond? Through a series of actions or expressions or postures? Is there a critical moment depicted in your narrative? How is your central figure reacting to that critical moment? Is there a resolution to your storyline? What events lead up to it? What happens afterward? How is your equine communicating this?

Sixth, query your inspiration with these ponderings to flesh out a storyline:

What universe is this piece living in? What’s its reality?
Posit the hypothetical, “Once upon a time…”
What specific story are you telling through this sculpture or paintjob?
What happens before and after the depicted moment?
What’s your focal point? The place you want the viewer to focus on at first glance and how does that forward your story?
What is the purpose of the storyline? The message? What’s the core theme, the driving impression? What do you wish to communicate?
How will I use traveling eye principles and composition to guide the audience’s eye and emphasize key dramatic features or components?
How will I focus on action and emotion? What expressions, gestures, posture, body language and whatnot can I employ to forward my story, to flesh out my moment in time?
Can I incorporate symbolic elements to add more layers of meaning and insinuation?
What compositional elements can I incorporate to create relational tension to beef up my narrative such as the rapport between figures, colors, effects, objects, opposing forces or line, curves, and contours?
How can I leverage color, effect, pattern, line, shape, contour and curve to guide the audience’s attention and forward the atmosphere of my story?
What will be the emotional landscape of my subject in my depicted moment? What is the story from my subject’s point of view? What is my equine thinking and feeling at that moment? What will be their next move? What is their motivation?
How do I want my audience to feel when interacting with my piece? What components can I engineer to forward that?

Then once you know your storyline, try to leave it open-ended a bit, allowing the audience to continue it with their own imaginations. In other words, try not to put a period at the end of that sentence but an ellipsis. We want their imagination to kick in, drawing them into our piece to provoke their curiosity and to build more onto our story in their own way. In turn, they can make your story their own story so your piece then becomes unforgettable in their mind, part of their own life experience. And that’s how we build a more impactful impression, by making your story their story, too, and now we’ve made that essential connection so intrinsic to great art.

Conclusion

If you want your work to “pop,” it’s not just the skill, talent, and workmanship that will do that for you — those are givens we need to have in our work anyway. Nope. The bottom line is this: You’ve simply got to have your work move people, to remind them why they love equines in the first place. And what helps to do that for you are the narratives you inject into your work. Do that, and you’re going to grab people’s souls with each piece and touch their hearts and captivate their minds, and that’s the equine art that sticks with people the longest. We love equines so very much, they’re magic to us, and it’s through our narratives then that we tap into that magic to compel folks to cherish that love all the more.

Injecting narratives into our work is also a lot of fun. Truly, when we focus our communication onto backstories, messages, awarenesses, questions, and whatnot, somehow our creative excursions become all the richer and more compelling. In turn, this is how infusing narratives adds a ton of more meaning to our creativity, punching up our Voice and making our work far more unique, compelling, and authentic. In turn, narratives can also fire up our inspirations all the more only because we’ll be tapping into what our creative drives actually have to say other than “bay rabicano PAM.” And yes, we can inject narrative into even a paintjob by using tone, effect, and expression to lend mood, moment, and charisma to the piece. So narrative works on every level of our work, making it infinitely versatile and adaptive.

So create your story, be expressive and show action and moment in your work. Your equines have a story to tell so set them up in the best way to tell it. But allow them to leave it open-ended so the audience can imagine more of that imaginary world on their own. So dig deep and dare to explore your own imagination and what you have to say through your art — then say it, using the glorious horse as your Muse. Or going even a step further, you can depict the world from the equine's point of view, delving into the essence of horsedom to advocate for and affirm the agency of the animal.

Now all this isn't to say to anthropomorphize your subjects. In equine realism, we have to stick to natural equine nature and coordination. Instead, it's to suggest that speaking from the animal's point of view or telling a story of the equine has a lot more power than just "bay rabicano PAM." That imbuing a living, soulful personality and storied moment into our piece can project it beyond simply what it is, capturing the audience's sensibilities so much more effectively. Indeed, all the brilliant technical achievement in the world still falls short of its potential if it can't also capture our hearts in a meaningful way.

So consider creating your work based on narratives rather than a representational focus all the time. Indeed, if narrative can help our art grab more people more effectively, why not? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain! In fact, even the very best portraiture work seeks to be more than “this is Jane Doe” by capturing the personality, moment, impact, and weight of the individual in life, right? Put another way, it seeks to grab the essence of the individual than simply their likeness, and we can do that with our equine realism, too. So give it a whirl and see what your inspirations concoct in response! It could be that you strike a hidden well of creative magic inside you that will bump up your work to unforeseen heights of meaning! And what better way to connect through your art than that?

"I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way—things I had no words for.”

— Georgia O’Keeffe

High Five 3: My Top Five Customizing Tips

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 17 Feb 2026 22:09:00 +0000

Introduction

It’s so great to see customizing experience a Renaissance these past few years! For a while there, some of us were quite worried that customizing would just fall to the wayside, a mere shadow, a sliver of its former glory, its arts becoming largely forgotten or marginalized. And why? Well, thanks in large part to the advent of artist resins. Ya gotta admit, since their inception in the early 90s, resins have just taken over to become the dominant artist-based cottage industry today. And for very good reason! It directly addresses the issue of accessibility, pricing, collectibility, and productivity in this madcap, voracious genre. But the thing is, up until the early 90s the custom was top dog in that department — that’s all there was in terms of accessible artistry! You could do ceramics, sure, but the buy-in to get started is extraordinarily expensive in terms of learning curves and equipment. But customs? Darn near anyone could accessibly paint a cheap OF. So yeah, OFs, ceramics, and customs — that was pretty much it prior to 1990. So when ARs came onto the scene, it was like a literal explosion went off, flipping the equation completely and ever since, customs have had a rather rocky road staying relevant — that is, until these last few years. Beautifully, customs have risen, like a Phoenix from the ashes to again take their rightful place as a top dog! Fabulous! And it’s been brilliant to see them come back into their own thanks primarily to the next generation of artists who have breathed new life in the art form! Because here’s the deal: The one thing that customs have going for them that ARs do not is freshness and novelty, and even better, sculptural aspects that are otherwise impossible to cast. Indeed, to own one is to own a true one-of-a-kind that can truly push the sculptural envelope! How cool is that?! Now that’s serious street cred!

But what’s even better about customizing is that it’s literally The Artform Of The People. Yes, there are many established artists specializing in customs with great success, and that’s great! But the truly great thing about customizing is that you really can do it yourself, too. And the buy-in for it is significantly lower in terms of materials as your only real investment is your time, energy, basic materials, and gumption. You see, more people can end up with a viable showhorse via customizing affordably than they can buying an expensive resin. Just take an $8 body-quality Classic Swaps, customize it really well, and then give anyone a good run for their money in the show ring! Potentially win to boot! You don't have that kind of access with a $2K nekkid resin. And many folks are even afraid to touch their blank resins simply because they are so valuable, and so they languish on the shelf unpainted. But who cares about a $10 beaten up old PAM, right? And customizing allows you to go as far as you want to go, and still end up with a viable horse to show. You can’t say that about sculpting an original sculpture—once you start, you’re committed to the full scope until the end. And as we all know, creating an original is its own can of worms from media to casting to armatures to proportion to difficulty to, well…yada yada yada. But with a custom, you can just do a retouch or an etchie, or a repaint only, or any degree of customizing you want from the very minor to the most extreme. I just affords you perfect freedom in what you want to take on, even allowing you to baby-step your way along your learning curve. Yet at the end, you still have a finished horse you can show. That’s a pretty cool equation! In short then, customizing an OF is all about accessibility and feasibility, two great things that go better together!

So in that spirit of getting more people arting through the accessibility of customizing, I’d like to share with you my Top Five customizing tips to hopefully augment your skillset or jumpstart your inspiration to dabble! Because the fact of the matter is this: Many of our best artists today developed from having to “do it for themselves” simply because they couldn’t afford the beautiful customs and resins they were seeing in their formative years. Their art was literally born from equal parts necessity and passion! And here’s the thing: The next big superstar could be you! Hey, yes—it could happen! You won’t know ‘till you try, right? So let’s get to work!…

#1 Epoxy Putty

The kind of epoxy putty you use will spell all the difference between a good or bad experience with sculpting. In all cases then, your experience should be good! You should look forward to sculpting on your model, not dread it. Definitely, you shouldn’t have to fight your epoxy putty — it should work with you so you can get to the eager business of sculpting. To that end then, I’ve tried a lot of epoxy putties. Phew. And in the end, the best one hands down, in every way, is Magic Sculpt. It’s far superior to any other epoxy putty on the market in every category in my opinion, so I recommend this particular brand most heartily (I prefer the Natural color, but try the different colors if you wish). Why? Well, for these primary reasons:

Mixing: It mixes in an easy 1:1 ratio by volume, allowing you to judge exactly how much you need, reducing waste. Just as much, it’s soft and easy to mix. No struggling with stiff putty here!
Texture: It has a lovely, superfine, soft, squishy texture somewhat similar to porcelain clay. Other epoxy clays have the texture of greasy, waxy bubblegum, making them harder to deal with or they’re kinda crumbly and weird. But not Magic Sculpt! It’s wonderful stuff!
Cost: You get a ton of epoxy for many customs for a relatively affordable price as compared to other epoxy putties, particularly when you consider the quality you get.
Safety: Thankfully, Magic Sculpt is non-toxic, which is one of the primary reasons I recommend it. Some epoxy putties can’t make that boast so avoid them. Even so, wear gloves, especially if you are prone to sensitivity.
Workability: It sculpts like a dream, holds details crisply, it's smoothable to a feather’s edge with ease, and able to support itself relatively well like for ears and nostril rims. Free-standing portions like mane tendrils will need an internal armature, but that’s normal for any portion of free-standing epoxy putty, or any clay for that matter.
Durability: This is tough stuff when cured! It doesn’t bend, slump, chip, or crack when fully cured, and it’s not going anywhere. Really, you don’t have to worry about the longterm durability as it doesn’t degrade or crumble apart over time — it’s inert!
Sandability: It drills, Dremels, carves, and sands like a dream!
Stinkiness: As compared to many other epoxy clays, Magic Sculpt isn’t so stinky. It actually has a pretty low stink value to it, thank goodness. Some epoxy clays are just intolerably pungent...ugh.
Cure time: You have about 45 minutes to 1 hour to work it reasonably well at about room temperature. However, a cool room (colder than 70˚) will prolong the work time whereas a warm room (hotter than 70˚) will shorten the work time. That’s comparable to a lot of other epoxy putties. After 24 hours then, it’s completely cured and hard (it’ll even cure under water). Even so, I recommend getting your work done within twenty-five minutes all the same.

Honestly, if you want to max out a positive experience with what is arguably the most difficult clay to use (epoxy clay, due to its short open time), Magic Sculpt is your ticket. Give it a try to see if it works for you — I bet it will! But if it doesn’t, try Aves Sculpt. (Here's a nifty video on how to use it.) It’s also non-toxic but it has the texture of slimy, waxy bubblegum and that can take some getting used to. Also try the different colors (I hear blue is the most popular) as they have different textures you may like better. Don’t worry, the colors won’t bleed or show through once primed and painted. I’ve also heard of people using Milliput with great success and speak highly of its approximate two hour working time (the Original or Superfine White are most recommended). However, Milliput can create a sensitivity or a reaction in its uncured state with some folks I’m told, so definitely wear gloves when using it.

As for working with Magic Sculpt, my best bit of advice is to not fight the cure time but to use it to your advantage — make it work for you! We do this by quickly blocking in our body part in the fresh epoxy and carefully blending the epoxy into the surrounding areas feather-thin first, then working to get that body part as close to what we want — sans details — as possible. Just block and blend in the first ten to fifteen minutes. Then as the epoxy firms up, you can progressively add more detail and crispy things up with tighter delineations and polished surfaces. I also recommend dipping your sculpting tool into your solvent regularly as you go to provide lubrication. Now this does mean you have to know exactly “where you’re going before you get there" sculpturally speaking, but with practice, it’s doable. Use lots of references and plan your strategy beforehand, visualizing the sculpted area first clearly before you even start. If you go in there all willy nilly with epoxy clay, you’re going to end up in the weeds pretty quickly! Epoxy clay is the least forgiving so have a clear mental game plan first, a strong visualization of what you want before you even start. In this way, epoxy clay teaches three impeccable lessons when sculpting realistic horses. First, it presses the issue of prep, research, and study, of really knowing what it’s all about before you dive in. Second, it asks for clarity and confidence, to know exactly what you want and the moxie to just do it. And, third, it requires discipline and follow-through because once you’re committed to the area, you have to see it through. All three of these mindsets will serve you well, especially if you switch to more forgiving media with longer open times like oil clay or ceramic clay. You’ll find your time with epoxy clay has sped up your sculpting, made it more accurate right out of the gate, and has made you highly disciplined to finish your piece in a timely manner. You’ll also find yourself missing two particular qualities of epoxy clay that oil and ceramic clays lack: An ability to hold structure really well and the propensity for hyper-crisp detailing. So epoxy clay isn’t all bad! Once you learn to work with it, you start to see its bonuses and make them work for you.

Pro tip: When you’ve mixed your fresh epoxy, dip the wad in your rubbing alcohol once (we’ll get to the rubbing alcohol in just a mo’) and mix that in. Maybe do it twice if you need it gooier. That’ll extend the cure time by about thirty more minutes, maybe more in cool conditions. Only do that once or twice though because it’s my understanding that too much can degrade the epoxy clay and we want that epoxy inert on your custom, particularly if areas are load-bearing, like legs or tail docks, or mane and tail armature layers, or if they're free-standing like ears.

Pro tip, too: Know what to fresh sculpt and what to Dremel-armature when working in epoxy clay. Things like truly accurate ears — thin and delicate — really can’t be sculpted in one go in epoxy clay because they’ll just sag or droop, even if you futz with it as it cures, constantly reshaping it, and that’s just a lot more effort than it’s worth. As such, I find the better result with ears is to shape, position, and size the ear roughly in epoxy clay, let it cure, then use a Dremel to shape it out into an armature which you can then sculpt over again with fresh epoxy for your final ear. In other words, make an epoxy armature first for actual sculpting later. Or if you wish, you can just do the fold-over technique and call it a day for a more simplistic ear.

Pro tip again: In that first fifteen minutes of working the fresh epoxy clay, your big priorities really should be (1) feather-blending the edges into the surrounding plastic areas, (2) getting the epoxy clay de-lumpified and smooth and (3) blocking in your structures. That should be done in the first five to fifteen minutes. It’s a lot to deal with quickly, but with practice you can do it. But the point is, if you work with the cure time and smooth that epoxy with your fingers, brushes, and tools as it stiffens (more on this in a bit), you can get it to a point where you barely have to sand anything later. No joke! Like this guy I customized for a painting class was barely sanded at the back end, all thanks to my careful work with the epoxy clay in the beginning. Like he required maybe ten minutes of light sanding, tops.

#2 Solvents n’ Smoothing

Water works to smooth the epoxy clay, sure, but you know what works even better? 91% rubbing alcohol, that’s what! Works way better! Indeed, you can feather out the epoxy flush with the plastic to the point where you barely have to sand that interface at all after it cures.

And of course you can use your fingers to smooth things out — your fingers are your first and best tool. But for delicate areas or small, tight areas your fingers can reach or would just destroy, use soft paint brushes or make-up brushes to smooth the epoxy instead. Like dip them into the rubbing alcohol and use them to smooth the epoxy, to soften details and to blend and marry features. Essentially, use the brush as a kind of micro-extension of your finger to smooth, blend, shape, and melt fleshy details into soft effects. As such, you can achieve very fleshy, soft, complex textures relatively quickly with a brush that’s tricky to get other ways, like softened wrinkles, crinkling, rippling, bumpiness, and other types of goo. You can even use brushes to do actual sculpting which can sometimes give a finer result with their fine bristles than a harsher tool.

For example, the typical way I sculpt facial textures or wrinkles is to block them in the fresh epoxy then smoothing them over with brushes and alcohol to "melt" and soften them, shaping them and adjusting them just so with both my tools and brushes. All this all happens in the first ten to fifteen minutes of laying down new epoxy...you want that epoxy fresh! Then I use the cure time, as the epoxy stiffens, to sharpen features and details, and polish everything into a smooth, fleshy mass that doesn't require any significant sanding. Indeed, that's the secret: You never never want to sand your textured areas! Never should sandpaper ever touch your wrinkles, your faces, your necks or shoulders, your stifle areas, or anywhere where you've applied textures. There is absolutely no sandpaper available that won't damage the subtleties you've achieved, so why ruin your work? Instead, work the epoxy with solvents, brushes, and the cure time so it's seamless, smooth and pretty much ready for priming. This is a hard and fast rule of mine. Indeed, I usually only use sandpaper for six things:

Removing flashing, pour holes, sprues, seams, or boogers.
Sanding around the perimeter of an epoxy clay patch if needed to make it perfectly flush.
Sanding the outsides of the ears flutes smooth after Dremeling them finer and thinner.
Using emery boards to sand the hoof walls smooth and level.
Softening the insides of the nostrils after being Dremeled out more hollow.
Roughing up an area intended for epoxy clay.

That's it, that's all, pretty much. Now do you notice how I don't use sandpaper as an all-over treatment? Truly, if I have to use sandpaper to smooth a sculpted area, I've failed at my job. Textures are a huge thing with me as they're truly what bring the piece to life, and I'll do everything to preserve them intact. Like if an area ended up being too rough to my liking, I'll Dremel it all back down and start again to get it exactly to my liking. Flesh must look like flesh, at all costs.

What does all this mean? It means that I literally sculpt the actual and final configurations within the first fifteen minutes of laying down the epoxy, and the remaining forty-five minutes are spent simply defining and refining key features and smoothing things. So if you're still manhandling the configurations after thirty minutes, you've languished too long and it's just diminishing returns after that with epoxy clay. You've got to do your actual sculpting within ten to fifteen minutes, when the epoxy is super fresh, then just refine it is as it cures. This is how you not only achieve more confident sculpting, but more importantly, more "happy accident" sculpting by letting the chips fall where they may in the first fifteen minutes. Sure, you use references, and you should have a very clear idea of where those references should take you on your piece, but as for the fleshiness of it all, that's left to serendipity, to "organic chaos," the one quality hardest to mimic yet the most worthwhile to capture.

As for the brushes, I recommend soft filberts for the face and detail areas in sizes 1-2 and for the body in sizes 4-6, and soft rounds for tight areas of the face like around the eyes and between wrinkles in sizes 0-2. And get them on sale if you can because you’ll eventually destroy these brushes with use (Dick Blick usually has good pricing on brushes every day). The process just kills them so when you find some you like, buy a few of them. Personally, I'm partial to the Royal & Langnickel Zen line of brushes. That said, don’t throw out your destroyed brushes! They can be very useful for texturizing clay, even painting because they’re so roughed up and demolished, making a great randomizing tool. (Like this epoxy-smoothing process can make nifty dappling or stippling brushes over time.)

What’s more, don’t overlook make-up brushes for smoothing. No joke! Yes, make-up brushes — like those used for eyeshadow blending, concealer, and highlighter — can be a real boon for polishing the stiffening surface of large body areas so you basically don’t have to sand later. For this, I recommend the E.L.F. brushes because they’re super cheap but not cheaply made. In other words, they're super affordable but they don’t shed, they’re super soft and dense with good spring, they come in a load of styles and sizes, and their ferrules are on there solidly. So try a couple to see how effective they can be for smoothing the epoxy as it stiffens. Just keep this in mind when using make-up brushes: You have to wash them thoroughly after you're done as this process will destroy them quicker than any other brush. You see, their softness is their Achilles Heel as that's the first quality to go kaput with epoxy-smoothing use. So you'll be replacing your make-up brushes often (thank goodness they're so cheap), but they're the only brushes that'll produce a hyper-smooth polish. But if you wash them really well after use in alcohol and soapy water, you can make them serviceable for a lot longer. On that note, be sure to thoroughly clean your filberts and rounds after use, too, to extend their using lifetimes. The cost of brushes can add up quickly, but if you want those smooth, detailed and fleshy effects, they're the only route to that with epoxy clay. Pro tip: If a brush is truly wiped out, snap off or cut off the handle and use the tip as a sculpting tool.

Now the only real hitch with using rubbing alcohol as a solvent is that it’s super-drying of your fingers and cuticles. So either wear gloves (which I highly recommend anyway when working with epoxy clays) or after you’re done with your sculpting session, use hand lotion liberally with cuticle oil (just wash your hands first before you handle your custom again so you don’t transfer lotion oils onto it). Like if you’re into manicures, this technique will destroy your nails, so use gloves!

#3 Time-saving Dremel Bits

First of all, when using these suggested bits, wear a butcher’s glove on your supporting hand and wear all PPE (including the proper respirator and face mask), do your Dremeling outside, and follow all tool recommendations. Take all precautions with the tools and with particulates and with these very sharp, aggressive bits! I also recommend using a variable speed Dremel with a flex-shaft to cut down on vibration and fatigue. Because yeah...Dremeling sessions can take some time if you're doing extensive customizations, and we want to minimize that as much as possible. We don't want you Dremeling for more than ten to fifteen minutes at a time, tops. You see, some artists have developed carpal tunnel from the excessive use of motor-tools and you need to strategize things to avoid that for yourself. This is why I use these particular Dremel bits as they're highly aggressive and get the job done very quickly, but they do take some getting used to. And they aren't for fine carving or refinement work...they're there to cut and rip away material like a pair of ravenous hyenas. They're supposed to get the job done as quickly as possible with the least amount of work, and boy...do they! (For refinement work like for ears or inside nostrils, I use diamond-tipped mini-bits, using the teardrop shapes and the round shapes the most.)

So that said, for cutting up your OF, I recommend using the Dremel tile cutting bit at a sweet spot low-speed for chopping up the plastic. It’ll cut right through it like butter in sort order. Just keep that speed on low otherwise you’ll melt the plastic and make a mess out of your expensive bit (they’re not cheap). Also exercise careful control with it because it will jump and runaway on you if you don’t have a firm hold on it. So practice on a junker OF to get a feel for it. Just remember that this bit removes its width in plastic as you cut, so compensate for length when you piece things back together. You can also use the Dremel 1/8” Tungsten Carbide Cutter as well (it comes in lots of shapes), but I prefer the tile cutting bit. It’s just more aggressive for impatient little ol’ me. I also use this bit to drill in leg-pinning holes and mane/tail armature-making holes on 1:9 models. For smaller scales, I'll use my diamond-tipped mini-bits for mane armatures, but I'll still use the tile cutting bit for smaller scale tail armatures (except for Stablemate and smaller). Really, I want that tail on there!

When grinding away unwanted epoxy, I use the Dremel Structured Tooth Tungsten Carbide Cutter bits (I use all the shapes). They come in various shapes so pick the ones you prefer for the offending areas and just rip it off, making way for fresh epoxy later. In other words, I don’t use these bits to sculpt but to remove what I don’t want because — ooof — you’d have to do a lot of hard sanding to smooth that resultant texture down! So just remove unwanted areas and resculpt with fresh epoxy over it to minimize sanding later and to create better, fleshier results. These bits also work like a charm on resins, and it does to a point on OFs at low speed. At high speeds, it’ll just melt the plastic and entomb itself, and they’re also pretty expensive so take care with this. Again, practice on a junker to get a feel for them first. Even better, their particulates are quite large and tend to fall to the ground, or become shrapnel so wear a face mask when using them.

Note how I don't use the disc cutters? Don't use those! They snap and break, spewing shrapnel right at you, and they jump the track all the time. Just really dangerous in my opinion.

#4 Reassembly

Okay, so now you have a cut up or cut-apart OF that has to be pieced back together, but you’re kinda at a loss with how to do that — well, I got you! What you use is aluminum foil to fill the gaps, reattach heads, or armature necks and then use Devcon 5-Minute Epoxy resin to seal it all up, gluing the parts back together, using the foil as a supportive filler for the resin glue. However, don’t do this all at once! Go in stages, reattach each piece or gluing each gap separately so you can keep tabs of how it affixes together properly. You see, when you first apply the glue, it’s quite runny and will make a mess—so protect your surfaces and your floor with drop cloths or tarps, and wear junky studio clothes and shoes. And keep your hands clean of it or wear gloves. But as it stiffens up over 10-20 minutes, you can adjust things so their alignments and positions are correct. So like with epoxy putty, work with the cure time with this epoxy resin glue.

Anyway, if you need to, use supportive wires to peg legs back together or peg legs back onto the body, and do that with the 5-Minute glue for real sturdiness. So take it all in stages, completing each attachment one at a time then let that all cure completely for 24 hours, ideally 48 hours so it’s really hard and inert.

Now you can use a Dremel with a Structured Tooth grinder, or whatever bit you prefer, to clean things up in preparation for epoxy sculpting, digging into the plastic about 1/4 or 1/2 its width so you can really cement it all together with a goodly amount of sturdy epoxy clay. (Again, wear all PPE and do this outside!) In other words, you’re merely preparing the model for sculpting, not attempting to do any actual sculpting with the Dremel. Really, who needs all that sanding when you can do ten times better with resculpted epoxy clay and minimal sanding later?

#5 Making A Messo

You may wonder how some artists do their veining, capillaries, bug bites, chestnuts, moles, and ergots. There's actually lots of different ways to go about all that from sculpting them on to using paint or glue to blob them on. The way I do it though is with something I call “messo," a 30% mixture of Liquitex Acrylic Gesso (in white) with 70% Liquitex Modeling Paste, thinned with water. Then I’ll use a pointed small round and apply the messo on there like so on a 1:9 scale model (scale down your brushes for smaller sizes):

Ergots: Thin the messo to about melted ice cream consistency and a small round (size 2ish with long bristles) to dot an ergot onto the back of each fetlock.
Chestnuts: Use unthinned messo and a small round (size 2ish with long bristles) to carefully dab on a chestnut in the correct placement. Then as it dries, go back in with your cleaned brush to callous it up by strategically poking at it to pock-mark the surface. If you need a really sticky-out chestnut, like for a pasture horse, just keep building it up until it sticks out how far you want, letting it dry in-between coats, then add the texture. In other words do it in stages, not all at once.
Moles/whisker bumps: Thin the messo to about the consistency of heavy cream and with a small round (size 0ish with long bristles) dot them onto the muzzle and under the eye using the ergot technique. Make them as tiny as you can and use references for placement and growth patterns.
Veins: You have to make the brush yourself to create veins with this technique, but it’s easy! Just take a long-bristle round in size 2 or 3, then cut about half of those bristles out, leaving you with a skinner, long-bristled brush. Voilá — you now have a veining brush! So now thin the messo to about heavy whipping cream consistency, saturate the brush in it, and carefully drag a bead of messo along the body to create a vein in a smooth, sweeping motion, keeping the brush perpendicular to the surface. It takes a goodly amount of practice to ping it, so practice on a junker first, a lot. And if you don’t like a particular vein configuration, no problem! You can either wipe it off or gently scrub it off with a small stiff, damp brush and start again.
Capillaries: Use the veining technique but with slightly more thinned messo, to about 2% milk consistency, and add a bunch of squiggly, “chicken scratch,” bumpy, or ripply capillaries on various areas of the body.
Bug bites: Use the mole technique to add a random bug bite or two if you want.
Bonus details: You can add debris to the bottom of hooves, scars on the body, warts in the ear, mud on the body, and other such details with this stuff using different consistencies with all these various methods. You can even texturize bases and make little rocks with the modeling paste or messo.

Note: With messo it’s normal to have to do 2-3 passes over the same dealie if it caves in on you. If you have a lot of cave ins though, apply less messo at a time, i.e. more thinner coats rather than few thick ones. Also, do your messo-ing as the last step before priming as this stuff will slough off with water. In other words, don’t wash your piece after you’ve messo-ed it or you’ll destroy everything you just did! But priming will seal it all in and you can wash the model after that.

Of course, use good references when applying all this so you get placement, proportion, networking and configurations, and textures right, especially for veining and capillaries which have their tendencies. Also, on Little Bits and Stablemates, you can use the veining technique to reinstall lost eyelids and actually quite a few details that were lost in the casting and cleaning process. In fact, you can do quite a bit of actual sculpting with this stuff and a brush when you get really good at it, like for customizing those HR minis where thick gloss has occluded a lot of their crisp facial details.

You can also use messo and a beaten-up stencil brush (sizes 4 and 6 for a 1:9 scale model) to apply a hairy, fuzzy texture on your piece, as is or to augment one already sculpted on. You can do the same for manes and tails and feathers, as well. Messo is also great for texturizing bases like for stone, dirt, or even short grass. So play around this this stuff — there’s a lot you can do with it in terms of textures and effects!

Bonus Tips

To save yourself a lot of plastic removal, think about using an OF that’s already armature-ish because it’s pre-“skinny,” or more "skeletal" or “bony.” Like if you’re wanting to create a “deserty" Arabian, don’t use a PAM, CAS, or even a CAM. I know that sounds counter-intuitive, but nope — use a Touch Of Class! No joke! In fact, you can use the TOC for all sorts of breeds since there’s so little to her, you can do a minimal amount of plastic removal to get where you need to be to then just build her up. It’s a lot less work and and loads less wear and tear on your hands and nerves, and a lot less mess and noise to boot. It also helps to mitigate carpal tunnel syndrome which some folks can get from excess use of a moto-tool.

Speaking of which, if you don’t have a Dremel, you can use a hacksaw to cut up your model. It’s more work and awkward, but it can be done. Just be sure to use the butcher’s glove on your model-holding hand though and a face mask!

The big mistake many folks make when customizing is to sculpt the plastic or the cured epoxy putty with a Dremel, thinking they can leave that as the final form to just sand it later. Absolutely do not do this! You’re just setting yourself up for a subpar result and lots of needless sanding you really shouldn't be doing. Rather, Dremel away the offending area in preparation to adding fresh epoxy on top, sculpted properly, detailed, and smoothly. This also goes for mane removal on necks and tail removal on legs. For this, just remove a bit more than you need to and sculpt the neck areas and the leg areas back in with fresh epoxy, smooth it out well, and voilá...no awful, fiddly sanding at the back end trying in vain to truly smooth what you carved with a Dremel bit. Why do I it this way? Because you can fully blend the epoxy edges better to minimize sanding later, but even more, all the fleshiness and boniness you install in the fresh epoxy is light years better than anything you can carve in with a Dremel. Like epoxy sculpted wrinkles are always better than Dremel-carved wrinkles. The two are not the same. So don’t even try to do sculpting with a Dremel as the results just aren't as good as actually sculpting that area back in with fresh epoxy. And who wants to do even more sanding to smooth down all those Dremel marks, ridges, and gouges anyway? And along those lines, this is how I do my distal foot sculpting. That's to say, I don't Dremel in the frog, clefts, hoof wall, and all that. Instead, I hollow the area out to sculpt it all back in with fresh epoxy later. That's how you can get so much detail, precision, and realism in this area.

Similarly, another big mistake I see many make is the reasoning, “I’ll just sand it later.” Ack! See, here's the thing: If you have to robustly sand something later to make it smooth, you've made your life needlessly more difficult. The trick with working with epoxy clay is to blend it immediately flush when you first lay it down and then do your sculpting to then fiddly futz with it as it cures, polishing it smooth with rubbing alcohol and brushes. If you’ve done your job right in this regard, there should barely be any sanding at the back end. So invest the time and attention on the epoxy as it cures to smooth it well and you’ll save yourself a lot of sanding headache later. Plus, this way it’s not only a lot less work and hardship on your hands and joints, but you preserve all the fleshiness, detailing, textures, and other sculpted qualities you’ve worked so hard to create that sanding would just mar, even obliterate.

It’s smart to plan where you’ll place your epoxy clay on the model to scuff up those areas well with coarse sandpaper to distress the surface for some gripping “tooth” to it. This way your epoxy clay can really grip onto the plastic well, helping to ensure longterm durability and stability. Don’t do this all over your model, of course, just only where that epoxy will be going. On that note, many customizers drill a hole in a discreet place to allow the passage of air since plastic is said to expand and contract with heat. However, it’s uncertain whether this helps or not as I have many Vintage Customs here in pristine condition without holes which have endured plenty of temperature fluctuations in their lifetimes. So make of that what you will.

If you need to add an armature for a tail or free-floating bits of mane, this is what I do (on a 1:9 scale model as an example). First, I Dremel holes with the tile cutter bit about 1/4” into the crest of the neck for the mane, one hole for each supportive tendril (be sure to use all PPE). If the mane is to be particularly extravagant, perhaps every 3/4" to 1” apart will do — it’s up to you. Then I take 12 gauge aluminum wire and cut it to the lengths I want for the mane, adding 1/4” inch to the length to compensate for the depth of the crest hole. Then I press in “cleats” up to 1/4” up one end of the wire with some heavy-duty wire cutters so the wire can "grab" the glue. Then take 5-Minute Glue, mix it up and pop that into each of the holes. I wait a little bit until it’s starts gum up at bit then I push the cleat end of each wire down into each hole and give it a little twist to really lock that glue around the cleats and to push out any air bubbles.

After it stiffens up a bit, I make small adjustments then let that cure completely overnight. After all that, I arrange the wires how I want them then sculpt on an epoxy clay armature to provide more structure. I let that cure then refine with a Dremel and then proceed to do my actual epoxy sculpting. So yeah, it's a process that's done in stages, not all in one go. As for the tail, I use that tile cutter to punch right though the body then use the same wire-gluing technique to attach a 12 gauge aluminum wire into the hole (don't forget the cleats). You don’t have to punch through if you don’t want to, just make sure you’re in there deeply to provide those cleats with a lot of gripping power. The last thing you want is for your mane or tail to detach because it wasn’t on there solidly enough! Remember, the chances that your sculpted mane or tail will take a knock or pull are high so you really want them on there.

Now if you're struggling with sculpting hair, you aren't alone. Indeed, I actually find it to be the most difficult part of our subject to sculpt! Tougher than heads, legs, necks...you name it. Why? Well, because you have to account for texture, passive physics, composition and harmony, durability, cast-ability, ship-ability, wispiness, paint-ability, and it all has to marry together into something that makes sense and also looks beautiful, but organically chaotic. So show yourself some grace when you struggle with it — it's a struggle more common than you think. To that end then, study a lot of reference photos and videos, do a lot of field study, and study how other artists interpret hair, too. Sometimes seeing how they tackled the challenge can be a moment of enlightenment. And there's an important fact to notice in this: There isn't one right way to sculpt hair! You can approach it in many different ways with great success! For instance, Marilyn Newmark sculpted highly detailed hair, and it looks great! On the other hand, Veryl Goodnight's manes and tails are more implied, and it looks great! Edwin Bogucki kinda had a style more in the middle, combining detail and impressionism, and it looks great! Or closer to home, Sarah Rose sculpted hair in a very detailed way, and it looks fantastic! In contrast, Lynn Fraley sculpts hair more impressionistically, and it looks fantastic! And then Amanda Brock sculpts in a bold, energetic way right in the middle, and it looks fantastic! So find the way that works for your sensibilities and don't get too hung up on what's "right." Chances are your way is right, too! See, I'll never forget a bit of advice Veryl Goodnight gave us during one of her workshops I took with her years ago in Taos, New Mexico..."Remember, people will already know it's hair." In a nutshell then, sculpt hair in a way that makes sense to you and it'll likely make sense to the rest of us, too. Really, you have enough to sweat about with sculpting hair already, don't beat yourself up over this, too!

It’s important to pick nice OFs to do your customizing on, especially if your input will be minor to moderate. That’s to say, the less drastic you intend to make it, the more the inherent nature of the OF matters. So great ones to start with are the Breyer Maureen Love OFs as they truly stand the test of time (this includes the new Stablemate Madonna). It’s still very hard to beat Maureen! But I also recommend the ISH and many others from the Stone Company, and many of the modern Breyers, whatever trips your trigger. So like if you pick a really great OF, do impeccable prepwork and then input exquisite paintwork, you’re well on your way to ribbons in the ring! Yes, the equation can be that simple!

Now if you want to hair your model, go here for my six-part series on how to do that (to get to the next part, just hit “newer post” at the end of each post). And to prep your model, go here for my blog post about that. Then for some painting quick tips, check out my blog post on that here, too. If you’d like some discussion on using non-horse colors on your palette, go here and here and here. To learn some beginner-level special effects in paint, go here for my six-part series on that (again just hit "newer post" at the end of the post to get to the next part). For painting faces, go here. For proportion measuring, go here for that blog post. And I also wrote some blog posts on some down and dirty tips for sculpting ears, eyes, heads, and nostrils, too, so check those out as well. And I wrote a more simplified guide for sculpting the head, too, here. If you’d like some insights into painting a dapple grey, check out Part I and Part II. Or if you’d like some discussion on all dappled coats, go here. And if you want lots more discussion about goo and fleshiness, go here. And go here if you want some insights on sculpting fabulous foals. Phew — that'll keep you busy for a long time!

Now the issue of similarity will probably come up at some point in your career as a customizing artist. When we're all dealing with the same OFs, particularly with the preponderance of all the decades of creativity that preceded us, accidental similarities are inevitable. So for more discussion on this issue with some helpful insights, go here. It's an important read. Why? Because it's critical to follow your original Vision without stealing someone's IP or practicing plagiarism. Yet we are dealing with a finite subject, aren't we? So sometimes even our original Vision is strikingly similar to an earlier work inadvertently. Hey, it happens! Crossover is more common than you may think. What does all this mean? What do we do? So read that blog post as it'll give you some curious notions to ponder on this topic.

On that note, be careful when using anatomy charts as direct references. Why? Well, no matter how incredible the reference is itself, there are still drawbacks we need to be aware of, so keep them off that sculpt-by-numbers pedestal. They should be referenced as guides, deciphered as suggestions, not agonized over as absolute truth, as infallible factuality. Why? Because they aren't! To dive further into this relevant discussion, read this blog post in Part 1 and Part 2. It's another important read that'll help you keep anatomy charts in proper perspective which can often result in better work and more fascinating deeper dives into anatomical study.

Conclusion

Customizing is a big big topic, full of various techniques, ideas, and philosophies, all getting to the same essential place: A beautiful custom model. In other words, if anything I’ve shared doesn’t work for you, no big whoop! Just do some research into other how-tos to see if those other methods work better for you. Quite literally, each customizer tends to have their own way of doing things, which is great! The more creative pathways there are to the same artistic destination, the better, right? Yep! So check out YouTube and blogs for more how-tos, or even better, take some workshops and classes to flesh out your skill set. The point is — don’t stop if you get stuck or if some way just doesn’t jive with you! Simply switch gears. See, it’s probably not you, it’s probably just the methods, media, or materials you’re using, so explore other options.

And that’s important because the truth is the world needs your art! We need more artists at work in our art form — truly, the more, the merrier! Our community and our arts will be immeasurably enriched by your Voice so if you’ve been toying with the idea of starting up, let this be your sign. Right now! There’s a ton of how-to material out there at your fingertips to get you started, and plenty of social media groups exist as a support system. And if the prospect of torking an expensive modern OF just gives you hives, there’s always vintage cheapies for sale, especially in eBay. Hey, I just bought an old Classic Man O' War there for $10 to tork for another painting class!

The customizing arts have a long and storied past, stretching all the way back to the mid-60s when people first bent a leg with boiling water, glued fabric-backed craft hair onto their Breyers, or used Testor’s paint to pinto up their OF. People simply wanted something unique and more life-like from the very start. So while OFs may have been with us since the beginning, customs were close on their heels, our oldest and most diverse art form. So join the happy horde of fellow artists who customize, join this honored continuum that spans nearly all the way back to the beginning of this madcap model horse journey! Lend your artistic Voice to the chorus! Come join us and we’ll all give you a very enthusiastic high five! *Smack* Huzzah!

“I would like to paint the way a bird sings.”

— Claude Monet

Messo Mayhem: How I Paint On Key Details

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Fri, 06 Feb 2026 15:00:00 +0000

Introduction

I'm often asked how I do my veining and other little touches like chestnuts, whisker bumps, ergots, bug bites, nail heads and such. Sometimes I sculpt them on with my epoxy clay, but more often I paint them on with a special brush, using a special concoction, in a special way. Now it’s not a perfect system as it can be tedious and take quite a bit of time, but it has worked well for me for years. So let’s do a deep dive into my methodology with this because maybe it could be useful for you, too!

The Special Brush

I’ve yet to find a suitable brush right out of the package so we have to make it. But no worries — it’s easy! Just find a 10/0 round with 1/2” long bristles. It can be natural fibers or artificial bristles, it doesn’t matter. And the long bristles ensure the brush will have a good reservoir to hold the concoction without having to re-dip every two seconds, ruining your clean line. Okay, so now cut away about 60%-70% of the bristles, leaving you with a skinny, long-bristled brush afterward. (It’s not a bad idea to make two or three of these brushes as back-ups, too.)

The Special Concoction

I’ve yet to find a substance that does what it needs to do right out of the bottle, tube, or pot. In other words, we have to make our magic potion ourselves. I call this elixir “messo” because it’s a mixture of 30% Liquitex Gesso and 70% Liquitex Modeling Paste. I mix that together then thin it with water to varying consistencies to apply it with the brush to create the various details.

The Special Way

Each type of detail requires a little bit different consistency in the messo so start with the least watered-down details first and end with the most watered-down details. So let’s tackle each one, one at a time, in descending order of being watered-down…

Chestnuts: Apply the unthinned messo to dab on a chestnut onto the leg. Let it dry for a little bit then go back in to pock mark it for texture. Now on some show horses, the chestnuts have been peeled off smooth, so keep that in mind so you can pick the narrative that best fits your piece.
Ergots: Thin the messo to a thick melted ice cream consistency and dab on a little ergot onto the back of the fetlock in its anatomical position. Not too much though as you don't want a cave-in, so it's better to build it up rather than do it all at once.
Veins: Thin the messo to the consistency of heavy whipping cream, load your brush, and holding it perpendicular to the surface, draw a bead in a long sweeping motion to create the vein. If necessary, add addition branches according to what your references say. Just when you do, be sure to blend the leading tip into the existing one and taper your ending tip into the body so there are no abrupt beginnings or endings.
Whisker bumps: With that heavy cream consistency and using the ergot method, dab on tiny whisker bumps onto the muzzle and under the eye.
Bug bites: With the heavy cream consistency, use the whisker bump method to gently dab on small bug bites in random places.
Hide textures: Then the messo to about the consistency of whole milk, and paint on fusiform shapes and streaks in key areas such as the neck the triceps area. You can blend them into your capillary work as well for a more realistic organic and fleshy effect.
Capillaries: Thin the messo to 2% milk consistency and use your brush to make a bunch of chicken scratches, squiggles, fusiform bumps, and jagged streaks in strategic areas of the body.
Bonus Details: You can add debris to the bottom of hooves, scars to the body, warts in the ear, mud on the body, and other such details with this stuff using different consistencies with all of these various methods. You can even texturize bases and make little rocks with the modeling paste or messo.

Bonus application: You can use messo to brush on hair textures onto the body, feathers, or the mane and tail, using a stiff hogshair brush. To do this, thin the messo to melted ice cream consistency and use a worn hogshair brush to brush on a subtle hair texture onto the body. Just be sure to go in the directions of the hair growth patterns for a realistic result. As for the mane, tail, and feathers, brush in the direction of their flow to mimic the billowing hair best, blending well into the previous layer to make a seamless result. In short then, apply short to medium blended strokes rather than long, symmetrical ones to avoid a "record grooves" effect. You want a flowing, more randomized effect rather than symmetrical, regimented grooves.

Basic Veins and Arteries

Arterial and vein structure is complex, so always use good references based on the type or breed of equine you're detailing, the level of their exertion depicted, and even the narrative climate as all these factors affect how much veins “pop” out. But for the most obvious and basic subcutaneous networks, they’re described in the following:

Facial vein (or submaxillary vein): The “Y” vein that erupts from the front tip of the teardrop bone (facial crest) and branches towards the eye and nostril. It also goes under the jaw, to enter the jugular, and this portion is referred to as the glosso facial vein; it can produce a subtle visible effect in the throatlatch area.
Internal subcutaneous vein of the forearm: A major vein of the forelimb, it’s a continuation of the internal metacarpal vein. It passes over the anterior top part of the malleolus of the radius and travels to the back of the knee.
Internal and external saphena vein: A major vein of the hindlimb, it erupts from the groin near the gracilis and sartiorus muscles and then branches. The larger anterior branch crosses over the top of the tibia and follows the groove between the front of the tibia and the tibialis cranialis (deep flexor metatarsi), over the front of the hock, crossing the top of the metarsal and becoming the internal metacarpal vein. The smaller posterior branch goes towards the gastrocnemius muscle.
Internal metacarpal vein: Major vein of the hindlimb and a continuation of the saphena vein.
Digital veins of the limbs: Pass along the caudal aspects of the limbs into the foot and with two branches, reaches to the front of the limbs. They’re a visible aspect on the horse.
Spur vein: A major vein of the torso, it branches into two aspects, an inferior and superior branch. The largest branch lies along the top border of the posterior deep pectoral muscle and goes into the armpit.
Subcutaneous abdominal vein: Passes along the posterior of the abdomen and into the posterior of the sternum. It’s often quite distinct on a broodmare or nursing mare, sometimes called the "milk vein."

Best Advice

This method takes a boatload of "feel" to perfect this technique, so practice practice practice on a junker first. A lot. Then practice some more. Indeed, you won’t get it how you like it right out of the gate — it takes a lot of practice and patience to perfect. And patience is a biggie since this technique takes a lot of time and has a high level of tedium to it, especially if you’re working on a “thin-skinned” breed.

Above all though, always work from references. You see, things have their organic patterns and tendencies that you need to capture authentically to be anatomically accurate. For example, veins are somewhat bilaterally symmetrical because each side follows a similar blueprint that needs to be conveyed in your vein-work. Chestnuts have a particular placement on both the foreleg and hindleg. Ergots have their anatomical placement, too. Textures and fascia details have their peculiarities. So do a lot of field study and amass lots of references to work from so you ping your effects accurately.

Keep your brush clean! Don’t let it gum up with messo. You should be rinsing and re-loading the brush with each pass so your flow is smooth, precise, clean, and even. Really, if you let your brush gum up, you’re just going to make a big mess and ruin your brush to boot.

You’ll find you get different results with how you swoop your beaded messo. Like long swooping, smooth lines are good for big veins like the spur vein while wiggly, “chattery” lines are good for textures and capillaries. So play around with how you swoop or chatter the bead to explore the possibilities.

Keep scale in mind. For example, the smaller the scale of the sculpture, the less messo detail will apply. Why? Because there’s no brush or needle that can apply an in-scale whisker bump onto a 1:32 scale piece. So as the scale shrinks, mimicking these details becomes more necessary rather than literally applying them as the messo method does. Likewise, as your piece scales up beyond 1:9 scale, messo detailing becomes less applicable, too, and sculpting these details in becomes more effective. This is because messo-detailing can only produce veins of a certain size without failing, and that Goldilock’s Zone is about 1:9 scale.

Trouble-Shooting

If you have cave-ins, your messo is the wrong consistency for what you’re doing. For example, if it’s too thick or you're applying it too thickly in one go, you can get a cave-in. There's a sweet spot for each type of detail you just have to find by feel through practice. But if you do have a cave in — no worries. Just let it dry then go over it again until it's filled up. Just be sure that when you go over it again that you cover the old vein completely so you don't have "growth rings" along the side which betray the technique or fix.

Now as for that sweet spot, your messo has to be thick enough to have some body to it but thin enough to flow the way you need it to, so find that Goldilocks Zone with lots of practice.

If you don't like something you just messo-ed — no problem! Just wipe it off with a damp brush and wipe dry, then start again.

Tips

Vary the protrusion qualities of your veins and capillaries as they don't all have equal emphasis. The variety of “sticky-outiness” is key so it all looks organic and natural.

You can use the veining technique to restore erased eyelids and other such details to customized OFs if they've been destroyed by the cleaning process. You can even add details to HR minis that have been softened in their detail from the glossy glaze like eyelids, nostril rims, teardrop bones, and the like.

The Modeling Paste is fantastic for filling pinholes up to the size of couscous (larger than that and you'll need to use epoxy clay). It's also great for filling shallow scrapes, gouges, and askew mold seams when prepping. Just dab a bit on, getting it into the pin hole best you can, then quickly and gently whisk away with your finger, flush with the surface. Sometimes you have to let it dry and go over it again, sometimes three times, but voilá...boo boo de-boo booed. You can even give it a light sand if needed with 800-1200 grit sandpaper after it's thoroughly dried (recommended sandpaper is Super Assilex in Lemon or Orange).

Caveats

This stuff dries like cement so it’ll ruin any surface you mix it on. So don’t mix it on your nice palette! Instead, use a postcard or yogurt lid — something you can just throw away.

On that note, also use a junker brush to mix it up as doing so just destroys brushes in short order.

This stuff dries pretty quickly, even as a pile on your disposable palette, crusting over quicker than you think. So mix up more than you think you’ll need. Like if I have to do an extensive messo job on a 1:9 scale piece, I’ll mix up about a ping-pong ball size blob on my disposable palette. That way I can punch through the encrusted shell to get to the gooey part inside as I need to.

An extensive messo job on a 1:9 scale piece can take up to four hours, so give yourself plenty of time. See, you can’t really take breaks as this stuff dries so fast, once you start, you’re kinda committed unless you want to mix up a fresh batch again and again (and Modeling Paste is a bit expensive).

Lastly, do all your messo work as your last step before primer because it'll all slough off if you get it wet. Just use a soft blush brush to dust off your piece and blow on it well right before you primer.

Conclusion

It’s said that “the devil is in the details,” and that surely is the case with realistic equine sculpture and paintwork! The little details can make all the difference! Besides, it’s fun to see your piece pop to life with all these little touches, adding such a sense of immediacy and realism no other way can.

But it does take a ton of practice to get it looking good, so don’t get discouraged if you’re struggling with it in the beginnings. Just keep at it, experiment, and develop that necessary “feel” so necessary for this technique to work. So also have a couple of junkers on hand to be your experimental pieces. But once you do master it, it becomes such a handy trick for adding in these fiddly bits with a lot of organic qualities that really heighten the realism if your piece. So just keep going!

Applying messo details can be a bit tedious, sure, but frame it more as a time of meditation. Take your time, be patient, be methodical, refer to your references — a lot — and you totally got this! Sooner than you think, you’ll be wow-ing us with your beautifully detailed sculptures! So get messo-ing around with messo, and blow us away! We can’t wait!

"The details are not the details. They make the design."

— Charles Eames

High Five 2: My Top Five Prepping Tips

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 03 Feb 2026 18:24:00 +0000

Introduction

Let’s just get this truth out there: Hardly anyone actually enjoys prepping. Honestly. You aren’t alone. Really, in all my thirty-plus years in this biz, I’ve met only three people who actually enjoyed it. Most people tolerate it, but many people just hate it. Because — yeah — it’s tedious, maddening, not much fun, and seems to be never-ending. It always seems there’s just one more thing to tweak! Argh!

Nevertheless, there’s this truth, too: With just a little bit of know-how, patience, and insight, you can prep your models with skill and savvy, too. And with some special tools and tricks, you can do it in less time and more effectively, two great things that go better together! Because the fact is near anyone can effectively prep their own models given the gumption and training. And knowing how is literally a survival skill out there now as those who prep professionally are few and far between, or are booked up for months already. And many painters will only accept pre-prepped models nowadays or charge more if they have to prep the model themselves. Plus, many painters won’t even accept the models from certain companies or artists unless they’re pre-prepped because they’re known to be ponderous in the clean-up department. So if you know how to prep your models well, you won’t only open up a lot more logistical possibilities, but you'll get your model "just so" to your liking, and even save yourself quite a bit of money to boot. Win win win!

To that end then, let’s talk about some of my best prepping advice and tips to augment your own skillset. Because if you’re struggling with prepping, chances are it’s not you — it’s the methods or tools you’re using. So let’s get to it!…

Tracing Seams

A handy trick taught to me by Ed Gonzales was to first take a pencil and trace all the seams and circle all the boogers on your model. And you don’t have to do it lightly as the primer will cover any pencil marks, no problem. Chances are, too, it'll all be sanded away anyway. But this will give you a game plan to tackle, a kind of guide to follow to help lend some structure to the process. For this, in particular, do your tracing in directional light because this will highlight the seams and goobers really clearly. And pay extra attention to complex areas like in complicated manes, tails, and positions because seams can hide in there as the moldmaker ~~pulled their hair out~~ was challenged by the difficulty casting the piece.

Just keep this in mind though: Don’t confuse goobers with the artist’s intended surface texture or hair tendrils. See, the thing is horses aren’t mirror smooth, like polished metal. Instead, they have fleshy surface textures and imperfections that lend character to their skin and hide like fascia details, wrinkles, crinkles, bug bites, capillaries, scars, and other hide eccentricities. Now some artists have a very specific artistic style that generates a mirror-smooth surface such as Maureen Love whereas others have a far more textured style such as Chris Hess, and then there’s everything in-between. So the point is, be mindful of the artist’s style or textural intentions before just sanding things away because you can very quickly obliterate essential qualities, even the integrity of the sculpture itself, if you don’t take great care here. It can be so hard sometimes though, can't it? So just do your best in good faith, that's all anyone can ask.

As you trace seams, note which seams may be offset and are in need of some epoxy putty to make them flush (I like to indicate them with an arrow pointing to them). Hey—it happens. Indeed, it’s either an error or, more commonly, the difficulty of the molding job could've just been insurmountable in that area. Either way, it’s just a fact of casting life at times. So to do this kind of fill, I recommend using Magic Sculpt two-part epoxy putty (I prefer the natural color). It mixes together in a 1:1 ratio, it’s very easy to mix together, and it blends out like a dream with some 91% rubbing alcohol and your fingers (wear gloves, even when mixing) or with a soft bristle filbert brush (usually in a size 3 to 5, your choice for the area). Just mix it throughly, and you can use the handle end of the paintbrush to shape it, if needed, or the sculpting tool of your choice then smooth with the brush and alcohol. Try to make it as blended and flush to the surface as possible too to minimize later sanding. However, you’ll want to apply this epoxy putty after you’ve given the seams an all-over sand to give the putty some surface “tooth” to stick to really well. In other words, do your fill as one of the last steps and blend into the body really well to minimize backend sanding. So on that note…

Sanding Wet

I highly recommend using wet/dry sandpaper with water to dampen down dust in your studio space. The mediation of dust is imperative to not only keep your creative spaces debris-free but it’s better for your longterm health. The last thing you want is to be inhaling all that particulate junk! So get a junker cereal bowl, fill it with water, and regularly dip your sandpaper in the water and sand away. (Pro tip: Wrap your sandpaper on a pencil for greater leverage if you need to.)

Now some people start with coarse sandpaper and move to medium grit then fine grit to finish. But the problem with this method is three-fold. First, it’s a lot of extra work for little payoff. Second, it creates deep scratches that can be quite difficult to erase even with further sanding. And third, it greatly risks sanding too deeply and altering the surface contours of the piece. What we want to do is remove the seams with the least amount of sanding possible, not just for our sanity and hands, but also for the sake of the sculpture itself. So what I tend to do is use a motor-tool to remove the worst offending areas (which we’ll get to in a bit) then use a medium grit (150-240 grit) to do the actual sanding to finish with fine grit (400 grit). With this approach, I avoid deep scratches that need sanding later and I better preserve the surface contours and textures.

I also recommend rinsing off your model periodically as you sand to get that drying gunk off so it won’t dry and fall on you, on your surfaces, or onto your studio floor. Remember to always mediate dust! Also, make it a habit to check your work in directional light to make sure you’re on target. Take breaks, too. It’s good for your hands and good for your sanity. (Pro tip: Keep your sandpaper moving! Don't focus too much on one portion or you risk distorting the surface contour with a dip, valley, or groove.)

With all this in mind, the kind of sandpaper you use matters and on what material. On OFs, which can have a lot of deep seams and chattermarks, I remove the worse of them with a Dremel and a teardrop fine grit diamond bit (more on that later), going over the area lightly and not gouging into the surface to create a bigger problem. Just even things out more, that's all. If the seams and chattermarks are really bad though, I'll use a Dremel carving bit (#117 or #121) gripping it firmly so as not to create more chattermarks or gouges. (Use all precautions and PPE and manufacturer recommendations when using a motor-tool. I also suggest wearing a butcher's glove on the hand that's holding your model as you Dremel.) Then I suggest using wet/dry sandpaper in 150 grit in particularly difficult areas then grading up to 240 grit to continue. For resins, again I use a Dremel to remove difficult areas then I move to wet/dry sandpaper in 240 grit to continue. For customs you have to deal with epoxy which can be particularly stubborn to sand smooth, especially when you have to be mindful of the softer OF plastic, too, but you'll develop a feel for it with 150 grit as needed to continue with 240 grit. Then for finishing on any material or spot sanding, I recommend Super Assilex flexible sandpaper (I use Brown, Ocean, Sky, and Lemon most often, starting with Brown and often finishing with Ocean and then maybe Sky, if needed, and on mini scales, I may finish with Lemon). I love this stuff because you can use it wet/dry, it's flexible (so you can really fold it up), it comes with its own sanding pad if you wish to use it, it lasts a long time and holds its tooth, it has a shallow scratch pattern, and it comes in an assortment of good finishing grits that are color coded so I always grab the right one. It's also what I use if I have to sand after priming or on an already-painted horse (like to fix a boo boo) because of its shallow scratch pattern (like with Sky or Lemon, in particular).

One bit of caution with sanding: Be mindful of an intended fleshy texture, especially on resins. Things like veins, wrinkles, capillaries, bug bites, fascia details, hide details, moles, smooshing, ripples, crinkling, pock marking, etc. are all features of realism that need to be protected during the cleaning process. Indeed, many artists infuse all that delicate detail so don't mistake it for boo-boos that need to be sanded off. Also be mindful of delicate mane tendrils so don't misinterpret them as sprues that need removal. On OFs, particularly the vintage Chris Hess OFs, he inputted a distinctive artistic texture on his sculptures that you have to decide if you want to leave it or remove it. Personally, I'd leave it as part of the charm of his work. Anyway, the point is, don't sand all over the model, just the seams. That's to say, only sand exactly where you need to sand. Not only is there no need to sand all over, but it can actually destroy the artistic integrity of the sculpture. Just stick to the seams, sprues, and flashing, that's it, staying sensitive to texture as you go. Now, of course, if there are random gouges or other obvious errors, attend to those as well, just be sure that's what they are first.

Mini Files, Riflers, and Carbide Scrapers

Small metal files are super handy for gaining leverage for more “bite,” and they’re great for reaching some hard-to-get areas where the sandpaper fails. Just be careful using them to avoid gouges, slashes, scratches, or harsh edges. I find the pointed-round one to be the most useful, but play with them to find which one works best for you.

Likewise, metal "diamond" rifler files can be super helpful, too, by acting as a kind of sandpaper but in a stiff shape that gives you leverage and precision. Just get them in “fine” grit and you can use them in hard-to-reach places with sandpaper. Oddly enough, I find myself using the "eyehole" one the most.

Similarly, carbide scrapers are really handy, too. You can get them from Rio Rondo or from Kelly Sealey (I have both, and both work really well, although Kelly’s has more shapes in the set which could be handier for you. However, I find myself most commonly using the blue one, green one, and purple one, so I guess it's personal preference most often). Just take great care with these for three main reasons. First, they’re sharp! Be careful with these as you can really stab or slice yourself if you aren’t careful! For that then, consider wearing a butcher's glove on your model-holding supportive hand when using them. Likewise, second, you can do a lot of damage to your model if you’re careless with them. Wield them with great control, and practice on a junker first to develop a feel for them. And third, hold them steady and only do a little bit a a time otherwise you risk “chattermarks” as the scraper “chatters” down the seam rather than removing it — a real bother to fix. Now all that said, they can be super helpful to get tricky areas, especially in manes and tails and between wrinkles and the details of the palmar foot. They can also be indispensable for prepping ventis, minis, and micros.

Lastly, wet/dry nail files are really nifty for sanding hooves on occasion. Just be careful not to remove an intended hoofwall texture when you use them. And you can get them in a finer grit if you want.

Motor-tools

A Dremel moto-tool (or similar gizmo) with diamond-tipped bits in various shapes (in fine grit) can be a real boon for prepping, making quick, easy work of some serious seamwork and flashing. Just be extra careful with this otherwise you can really damage your model by removing too much or creating chattermarks. So take care to only remove what you need and nothing more, and take away only a bit at a time, not all at once. Not all seams and flashing warrant Dremeling, either, only the worst ones, so think about what you can do with sandpaper instead. And I recommend using a Dremel with a Flex-shaft to dampen down vibration and fatigue. Also don't Dremel more than ten minutes at a time, then take a long break. You can develop carpal tunnel syndrome if your sessions are too long and intense. And, of course, use all PPE when Dremeling and mind all manufacturer precautions and use common sense (like tie back your hair). So yeah, do it outside with a respirator, safety glasses, smock or suit, de werks. You do not want this junk in your lungs, in your hair, in your eyes, on your clothes, or in your house, especially if we're dealing with debris from resins, epoxy, or ceramics.

Now a nifty smaller tool you can use is an engraving pen that comes with various engraving bits because you can use them as quickie goober or seam removers, especially in delicate manes and tails, between wrinkles, and other tight areas. Just use this outside to keep debris out of your studio areas and use PPE with this as well.

Lighting

Believe it or not, your lighting is really important when you prep, critical actually. Directional lighting is especially useful and preferred. So think about using a drafting lamp that you can angle and manipulate to really get a good view of what you’re doing using skewed light. In other words, even, overhead lighting isn’t so helpful in this department so find some way to skew that light to really highlight those bloopers and seams for you. You need to cast shadows!

Bonus Tips

After you’re completely done filing, sanding, fiddling, and futzing, scrub the entire model — whether OF, custom, and especially a resin — with a toothbrush and a paste made out of Ajax or Comet. All over. This will remove your hand oils, mold release, residue, sanding debris, and anything else that shouldn’t be there in preparation for priming plus it gives more of a "tooth" to the surface. Once thoroughly rinsed, set aside to air dry in a dust-free environment.

Now to fill pinholes, small gouges, deep scratches, shallow off-set seams, and similar little oopsies, don’t use Superglue and baking soda. That degrades over time, particularly if exposed to UV light, i.e. sunlight, and it's difficult to sand smooth. Instead, use Liquitex Modeling Paste. To do that, take a small round brush, dab a bit of it onto the pinhole, and quickly whisk it away with your finger, flush with the surface. Do another pass or two if needed, like if the pinhole is large, say bigger than a pinhead. Let that dry completely, then you can sand it lightly with fine grit dry sandpaper, smooth and flush, if necessary (I recommend the sandpaper Super Assilex in Sky or Lemon). However, just do this as the very last step before priming. This stuff will soak up and slough off with water, so do all your washing before using this paste, then primer afterwards to seal it. To brush away dust before primering though, use a soft, big make-up brush (like for blush or face powder) and go outside and whisk away the sanding dust. Now if the pinholes are large, more like bubbles, say the size of a grain of couscous or bigger, fill with epoxy putty (I recommend Magic Sculpt) and blend as flush as you can then sand down carefully after it has cured thoroughly, if necessary.

Now for super tiny pinholes that are more like teensy pockmarks, which can happen in resin casting if the environmental conditions are a bit off, I use Liquid Green Stuff. Just carefully brush on a little bit with a soft round or filbert, rinse the brush, dry it on a towel, then carefully brush flush with the surface and voilá...teensy holes filled! It sinks right into the pockmark to fill it like magic! Let it dry completely, and do another pass, if needed, and you can carefully sand it smooth (if needed) with superfine sandpaper (I recommend Super Assilex in Lemon).

Now sure, it's going to take a bit of time and tedium to do all this...pinholes are just that girl. But the payoff is so worth it! This is because this technique is a lot less intrusive and far less destructive of artistic intent than covering the whole area with epoxy or removing the area to rebuild with epoxy. Absolutely, you can preserve surface textures and delicate details with ease with this process, things that are imperative to protect when prepping. Indeedy, I really lean into the Model Paste when I prep, using it not just for pin holes, but to fill slightly askew seams, scratches, gouges, divots, and other boo-boos quickly and easily, making my prep life far less headache-y. Now if things are bad enough they warrant epoxy fill for durability and body, I do that, of course, but for the most part, if I can use Modeling Paste instead, I'll opt for that more.

Now sometimes an OF or resin will come to you with compromised details or surface contours. There are various reasons for this, the most common being difficult moldmaking and resultant factory cleaning. Sometimes it’s just the nature of the beast. To restore these areas, you can use Magic Sculpt to resculpt them back in after you’ve finished sanding. The reason we do this after the overall sanding is because those areas will have more tooth from the sanding job plus you have a better shot at getting things flush when that area is already pretty much prepped. Honestly, doing all the sanding first then doing the fill afterwards often results in faster, easier, and better results because you can best preserve any fleshiness you sculpted in and you don't have to sand down any stubborn epoxy, saving you time and effort. You see, the trick to using epoxy clay is to work with its texture and cure time, with those brushes and rubbing alcohol, to make it as flush and smooth as possible to minimize, even almost eliminate, the need to sand later. So get it as perfect as you can while it's still smoothable rather than thinking, "I'll just sand it later." Make your life easier, smooth that epoxy clay as perfectly as you can while it's still smooshable. Then let it cure completely then hit it with some fine sandpaper, if necessary, paying special attention to the feathered edges so they're completely flush.

Now to restore things like veins, moles, chestnuts, and ergots, resculpting those in can be a bit tricky. Instead then, I recommend using "messo," a mix of Liquitex Modeling Paste (70ish%) and Liquitex Acrylic Gesso (30ish%) thinned with clean water to the consistency of melted ice cream. You can dab on chestnuts, moles, and ergots with a tiny round brush, or thin it to the consistency of milk, and draw a careful bead to recreate a vein, taking care to blend it into the existing vein still present on the model. You might have to do two passes, which is normal. You can also do this veining method to restore wrinkles or eyelids sometimes as well. Just be sure to practice quite a bit on a junker to get a feel for this method, use tiny rounds with great points and long bristles (to hold a good reservoir of messo), and rinse your brush out often (because this stuff dries pretty quickly and will gunk up if you don’t keep those bristles clean and replenished with fresh, free-flowing messo). So a goodly amount of prior practice is a boon here! But the good news is, if you don't like what you just did with it, simply wet it and wipe if off and start again. It all comes off with a bit of water and a light scrub.

Primer

The primer you use is critical! Indeed, I’ve seen more models complicated or flat-out ruined by the improper use of primer or use of the wrong primer than just about anything else. So first off, always use a sandable primer. Why? Because chances are you’ll find some areas that need a little extra work, and you have to get back in there and re-tweak them. That’s normal and expected, so be ready for it. You also want a primer that dries fast, like dry to the touch in about fifteen to twenty minutes and dry enough to re-sand in about thirty minutes. Waiting around for hours or even days just gets really old, really fast.

The primer should have a matte, “toothy” surface and never a slick or greasy one otherwise your paint just won’t stick well. It must also stick like bananas to the model itself whether plastic, epoxy,resin, or ceramic so your paintjob won’t slough or flake off either.

More still, the primer should be “tight” to preserve tiny details, and not gunk 'n' gum them or the overall sculpting up. To that end, on your first spray, only do one super light coat. What you’re doing here is looking for prepping areas that need more work rather than actually priming. Trust me — you’ll find them. Attend to those then re-rinse your model and let air dry once again. Once completely dry, give it another super light spray, let it dry and then recheck the prepping and adjust. Once you’re good to go (and ideally on the second pass), give it a light overall spray and let dry. No more than two light coats though (dried in-between for thirty minutes) otherwise you risk gunking up the works and obscuring minute details or worse, creating a gummy, tacky, greasy, grimy surface. Never saturate the surface with primer! Indeed, it’s always better to do two light coats than one thick one. You can press it to three light coats, but the thing is, always use the least amount of primer to do the job.

So once primed, set aside and let fully dry for thirty days. Yes — let it sit for thirty days. Don't touch or futz with it. It needs to fully process and de-gas, becoming “cold and hard” on the model without the contamination of our hand oils, body heat, grime, debris, or whatnot. Just put it on the shelf in a dust-free environment, and forget about it for thirty days. We also need this time to see if anything weird will happen because it’s best to address it in the primer stage rather than after you’ve painted it.

Altogether then, I recommend the Dupli-Color Sandable Primer in White, Rust, or Grey. Just keep in mind that the White isn’t opaque, but more transparent, so don’t spray the holy hannah out of your model to get it opaque otherwise you’ll gunk up all your details or create a gummy surface. Instead, spray it normally and it’ll be just fine to paint even with its more transparent quality. Let the paint basecoat take care of the opacity problem. However, all this said, be mindful of your ambient climate. It's been reported that high humidity can greatly alter the characteristics of even this primer's performance. It's also been shared that the different colors perform differently, so do a series of experiments on junkers to find the one that best works in your situation and climate. For instance, one person reported that the White and Grey became sticky whereas the Rust was fine in their hot and humid midwest climate. So on that note, it's smart to do a test spray on a junker before priming your actual piece to see how that particular can or color performs. There is such a thing as bad batches, old cans, and other variables that can cause a problem, and it's better to find that out on a junker first. Now if you do end up with a bad can, just throw it out, don't try to rescue it. Don't give yourself more headaches...you've already had enough of that prepping every little booger on your model!

And of course, do all your spraying outdoors in a debris-free and wind-free location. And if you can, allow your piece to initially dry outdoors until safe to touch, then you can bring it inside to fully dry. You really don't want to mess around with those primer fumes, especially if you have pets (especially birds).

Just keep in mind that primers are often the bane of our existence and it's going to take some research and experimentation to find the one that works well for you in your climate. Truly, what consistently works great for one person will consistently generate problems for another person, and it seems almost willy-nilly. For instance, many people have serious problems with Krylon and Rustoleum primers almost across the board, but you'll still find that one person they work for. It's kinda bananas. Or a lot of people love the Dupli-Color primer but every so often it'll go haywire on someone. And I know quite a few folks use Army Painter Colour Primer with great success, but I've had it take up to four days to dry to the touch on me (as tested on an OF junker). So as a reminder, here are those best practices again:

Always use a sandable primer that's "tight," has a matte, toothy surface when dry, and sticks like crazy onto your model, whether OF, custom, ceramic, or resin.
Always run some experiments on the material you wish you spray, in the climate you wish to spray, so you discover what works for your situation.
Always shake that can really well before using it.
Always consider the ambient temperature outside. Like on hot summer days, think about priming in the cooler mornings. On cold winter days, prime in the afternoon when it's warmest. However, winter days can be especially tricky, depending on where you live. In this case, definitely do some experiments first to see what you can do and when. Indeed, sometimes it's just too cold to prime.
Always do a test spray on a piece of cardboard first before hitting your model to test the can's consistency, air pressure, and spray quality.
Always do light coats (dried in-between for about thirty minutes) rather than one or two heavy coats; always use the least amount of primer to do the job.
Always let it dry for thirty minutes before handling it and don't handle it too much with bare hands after you've sprayed it. As such, keep your hands clean to keep them free of body oils and grime that'll compromise the primed surface.
Always allow your primer to dry, undisturbed, for thirty days before basecoating with paint (you can push it to two weeks if pressed...maybe one week, but that's being really crazy about it).
Always hold that can no closer than six inches from the model and no farther than eight inches, and keep that can moving around; don't focus on a single area too long. The last thing you want is pooling, puddles, drips, pebbling, excess coverage, and other messes in your primer.
Always make sure your model is fully clean of debris before priming. You definitely don't want to lock in dust, sanding debris, or other prepping relics that'll mar a smooth, detailed finish.
Always use a fine wet/dry sandpaper with low toothmarks to sand your primer because primer scratches very easily. After you've done your primer sanding, toothbrush wash again (no Ajax) to get all debris off and let air dry.
Always be methodical, careful, and attentive when priming. Take your time. Do the steps. Do the least necessary. And always err on the side of caution. Like if a can is acting weird in your test spray, don't use it. If the weather just isn't cooperating, don't spray. Trust me on this. Now if your model already feels sticky and tacky, set it aside for thirty days to see what it does. Sometimes it just needs time to process rather than stripping.

Final Bits of Advice

Understand that no model is perfectly prepped because what is "perfect"? Yes, it means that all seams, pinholes, and boogers are gone, but honestly that's easier said than done sometimes. Really, the difficulty of casting logistics and the angles with cleaning mean we just can't even reach certain areas well enough at times. So do your best and learn to accept certain imperfections as "good enough." Because the problem is this: If you keep chasing "perfection," you're going to keep spraying your model with primer hunting stuff down, and that introduces its own set of big problems. I once ran across someone who, in getting their model "perfect," applied twelve coats of primer and then wondered why it was so gummy and never dried, making it unpaintable. So always remember, you want to use the least amount of primer possible to get the job done. So make sure your piece is as close to insanely prepped as possible then before hitting it again with primer because the last place you want to be is in coat four and still have prep work to do. This is why directional lighting is so helpful because it can tell you where those problem areas are even before you've hit the piece with primer.

You really don't want your piece sandpaper-polished mirror-slick with a super duper fine grit like 800 and higher. You want some tooth to the surface for the primer to grip to so the paint itself can stick well. I've seen patches of paintjobs actually peel, slough, or flake off simply because either the piece was too finely polished with superfine sandpaper or the primer had too slick a surface (such as the Tamiya primer*) and the paint just couldn't stick to it. So my own rule of thumb is, if the sandpapered or the primed surface has a glossy, slick, shiny sheen to it, it's too polished. How do we fix this? Well, we can go back into our model with 400 grit and scuff-sand those areas before priming. Now if the primer itself is too slick, I'm told we can spray it with Dullcote to reinstill some tooth, but since I've never had to do this myself, I can't speak to it so much. (*I sometimes use the Tamiya on medallion production masters because of that slick, glass-like surface to provide a nice finish for the castings. However, I keep those coats light and no more than two coats.)

Overall though, you want your primer to be "hard" and "cold" before you handle it, fully de-gassed and settled down. This is why I ideally let my primer sit for thirty days, untouched. I want that shell hard and inert. But even still, handle a primed model with gloved hands if you intend to handle it a lot. You see, our hand oils and body heat can gum up the surface on occasion, making it grimy and sometimes even tacky. So really only handle your primed piece when you intend to basecoat it. In a very real sense, your piece is most vulnerable in its primed state because that surface is intended to have paint on top if it, not be left an as-is surface.

As for my basecoats, I apply them with acrylic paint with make-up sponges first and then hit the piece with an airbrush to get all the nooks n' crannies and to give an all-over even, opaque coating. Then again, I let that sit for thirty days to fully dry and become "hard," "cold," and inert. Yes, that means a full sixty days of dry-time before I even start painting but in all my thirty-plus years at this, I've found that this strategy really helps in the longevity and durability department. Indeed, Julie Froelich allowed her basecoats to dry for thirty days and her Vintage Customs are famous for their uncanny durability and inert nature. And we're talking thirty to forty years later in many cases! So when you can, give your materials time to process and settle before really digging into them. Remember that all these chemicals, layered on top of each other (and don't forget the underlying OF, custom, or resin), need time to process and go through their phases before being truly ready to do their job.

On that note, I've heard of sticky problems when painting brand new OFs right out of the box, as if the OF itself needs time to settle down on its own. As such, I've heard of people letting them sit on a shelf, out of the box, for four to six months before diving in. All the more reason to allow the primer and basecoat to sit so you can discover any issues before you actually start painting!

Conclusion

Learning to properly prep your own models is a necessary skill nowadays in more ways than one. Besides, don’t you want it done to your liking? Then who better to do it than yourself? And yes, prepping is a bit of a chore, but it’s an incredibly important one because it sets the model up on its best foot forwards for its paintjob, and we all know how sophisticated, pricey, and hard-to-get a great paintjob can be. Yet the finished product is only as good as its prepping!

So take your time with this critical step and learn as many methods, tips, and tool use as you can so you can find the process that best works for you. Everyone has their own preferred way of doing this step and you’ll find yours, too. As such, also check out these how-to videos here here and here for more ideas. And go here and here and here and here for lots more prepping how-tos. And to prep pewter micros, go here. That's to say, there are many different ways to prep a model, so if what I've shared just doesn't work for you, research to find another way. There's lots of pathways to the same destination! To that end, it usually takes me a couple of full days to properly prep a 1:9 scale model, sometimes three days if extensive epoxy fill is involved or if parts are particularly intricate. Good prepping just takes time, patience, and diligence, but you can do it!

Just always remember that good prepping is the first and most critical step to ensure that your piece will hold up over time with all that wear and tear. Proper prep is key to help ensure the longevity of the paintjob and the beauty of your piece for years go come. But it's also something you can learn to do, and do well and when you do, you'll have tackled one of the most finicky and laborious skillsets our art form has to offer. And that's definitely worth a huge high five! Good job! *Thwack!* Rock on!

“Have no fear of perfection, you'll never reach it.”

— Salvador Dali

High Five: My Top Five Painting Tips

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 18 Jan 2026 10:22:00 +0000

Introduction

Sometimes all we need to jumpstart our own rethinking or exploration is to simply look at things from a different perspective. And a lot of these perspectives can come from other peoples’ methods, ideas, or tips on how they do everyday things, or in our case, how they paint realistic equine sculptures. Beginners, in particular, are really benefitted from this as many of the little things seasoned artists take for granted can be a complete game-changer for a newbie!

So in this spirit, let’s explore my five top tips for painting our pieces more effectively, easily, and realistically. These are things routine for me, but maybe for you, they could make all the difference to improve your game or switch your gears! One of the best things about lots of artists in a niche is that means there are many different brains working similar problems, and that spells one thing: Innovation! But that only works if we share what we've learned, which I happen to think is a smart thing to do in the long run. Why? Because when we share our processes with others, they make it their own and who knows what we'll learn in turn from them as they make advances or adaptations! It's a win win! Undeniably, when it comes to developing skillsets, knowledge is power, and so the more knowledge that's shared, the more shared power there is to go around!

Now these tips entail painting primarily in acrylic paint but a lot of these ideas could apply to other media like oils, pastels, or color pencils with a bit of tweaking. So take from these tips what you will and make them your own, and hopefully you’ll find them helpful! So let’s go!...

White Markings

Do you struggle with the opacity of your white markings? I think we all do to some extent, don't we? Uffdah. Smooth, even, flush, opaque white is just The Struggle of the Century for us it seems. Well, there are a couple of ways to make it easier!

First, consider the kind of white paint you use. Yes...it does make a difference, a big one! Different brands and consistencies just have different coverage abililties, and after trying quite a few, I've found two that work the best for me. For starters, the best one is Saint Titanium White by Stuart Semple, available from Culture Hustle. This white paint has a great fluid consistency and can be made opaque, even when thinned, in about three layers because it’s so highly pigmented. It's great stuff! (However, since it's made-to-order, it can take a long long while to get, so just keep that in mind.) Then for the second one, Golden Fluid Acrylics Titanium White has great opacity too and a very usable consistency, but, it does take more layers than the Saint white, about four to six on average. (But it's far easier and faster to get, so it makes a terrific alternative to the Culture Hustle White.) With both though, just thin a bit with clean water to about the consistency of ink or between 1% and 2% milk, and you're good to go! Just be sure to use a nice, soft, clean brush that holds a good tip and has a decent length of bristle to hold a good well of paint. I find that rounds work really well across the board, as do filberts in certain situations. Now there's a Goldilock's Zone to both consistency and to brushing technique, so be sure to practice on a junker before tackling your white markings on your actual model. But overall, those two are the strongest acrylic whites I've found so far and both glide on like a dream to boot.

Second, some artists add a bit of white gesso to their first couple of layers to beef up the opacity, then finish with a layer or two of pure paint. Gesso does change the consistency a little bit, so practice with it on a junker. In particular, it can create a pebbly, grainy finish if you aren't careful or futz with it too long, so play around with it first. Just don’t leave gesso as the final surface though because it attracts grime and discolors with time so end your session with at least one layer of actual paint on the top, ideally two layers. But once you learn how to use this technique well, it can help you achieve a nice opacity pretty quickly. For this then, I recommend Liquitex Acrylic Gesso in white. That said though, if you're using the Saint White or even the Golden White, gesso isn't really that necessary, so it's up to you to use this method or not when painting with those Whites.

Just remember this: It's better to do more passes with a thinner consistency than just a few with a thicker consistency, just like with primer. So be methodical and patient. Take your time. To that, you want to avoid three primary things: Brushstrokes, pooling, and border ridges. Brushstrokes happen when the consistency is too thick or if you've futzed with a drying area for too long. Pooling happens when the consistency is too thin and you've dabbed on too much paint onto the surface. (What's more, when the pool dries, it can leave a blister of texture that's a real bother to sand down to remove.) Really too-thin paint can also lead to "micro-pooling" when the paint just doesn't stick well to the surface and beads up on you. As for border ridges, they happen when there wasn't enough attention to thin, flush layers and an even coating of paint on the entire marking, producing a ridge of paint along the perimeter of the marking or pattern. So yes, doing nice white markings takes time, a lot of practice, hard won experience, and a goodly degree of "feel," but it's all learnable so practice practice practice on a junker! You can do it!

And lastly, consider muting your whites with a snidge of Burnt Umber or griege to give a more life-like off-white effect to the overall finish. Like rethink using white straight out of the bottle to instead tone it down a bit. It adds more realism plus it gives you "a place to go" with any highlighting you'd like to do on your white areas like on the face, in hair, and elsewhere. It can make for such a beautiful, living effect, often much more effectively than just straight white.

Flesh Tones

Concocting flesh colors for unpigmented skin is tricky, that’s for sure. But with a little bit of know-how, it’s not only doable, it’s adaptable. And that last bit is important because horse skin color varies between individuals from an orangey-tone to even a cotton-candy tone. In other words, there is no one tone that’s correct, it’s a spectrum. To that end then, amass some references to develop a library of options for either some variety or to find the tone(s) that most appeal to you.

Any which way, a down and dirty easy way to mix up a quick flesh tone is with Burnt Sienna and Titanium White. You can vary the ratio for shade or highlight colors, too. And you can add either Raw Sienna or Burnt Umber for some variety if you want.

Now to mix a from-scratch flesh tone, you’ll be mixing red, yellow, blue, and white, then simply playing with the ratios to get the tone you want. What you're essentially doing is first mixing a kind of brown with a complementary mix then adjusting it into flesh tones. Now one may wonder why go about it "the hard way" when you can bang out a serviceable flesh tone with just Burnt Sienna and Titanium White. But the benefit from doing it from scratch is you have a ton more versatility and adaptability to match anything your reference shows. Like if you lean into the yellow, you’ll get a more orangey tone or if you lean into the red, you’ll get the cotton-candy tone, then add some blue and you get a darker, more neutral flesh tone. You can't really do that with just Burnt Sienna and Titanium White. So play with mixing from scratch to practice targeting the hues from various references and you'll develop a super helpful skillset. And practice is important because a common error is to make flesh tones too red, too yellow, too orange, or too pigmented or not pigmented enough. There’s several sweet spots with flesh tones so play around with it all to find them.

As for the colors themselves, I recommend going with a warm yellow (orange-leaning, like a non-cadmium Yellow Deep, Yellow Oxide, or Ochre), a cool red (purple-leaning and therefore blue-leaning, like Naphthol Crimson or a non-cadmium Red medium or deep), and a warmer blue (purple-leaning, therefore red-leaning, like French Ultramarine Blue), with good ol’ Titanium White as a tinting agent. And you can add Burnt Umber in the mix, too, to shift it duller and browner, or Burnt Sienna to shift it more rusty and blushed. But try different reds, yellows, whites, and blues for different results as each one adds its own spin, and maybe you’d like a different array more. For instance, substituting with a warm red like Pyrrole Red can render beautiful results, too, so don’t be afraid to experiment with colors. And sometimes, some flesh tones on horses are on the cool side, warranting a cooler array of hues to mix up. So pay attention, be adaptive, practice, and you got this! Oh, and consider shading and highlighting your fleshy areas such as on the face like around the eyes and muzzle. This can really heighten realism and a sense of touchable fleshiness.

Brushes

The types of brushes you use for certain things really do count! Indeed, they alone can make or break your results. For instance, when painting markings, ticking, patterns, eyes, hooves, manes and tails and feathers, aim for rounds that have hyperfine, tiny perfect points but with long bristles and “big bellies” that’ll hold a goodly reservoir of paint so you don’t have to keep redipping every two seconds. This allows you to keep working or to continue an unbroken line, avoiding having to re-dip and restart, creating a messy, imprecise result. Filberts are also a good choice because their flat, rounded edge which can be very useful for blending colors and achieving a smooth surface. What’s more, make sure these brushes are soft soft soft to help dampen brush strokes and textures, especially so with markings and patterns of white. And take care of your brushes, cleaning them thoroughly after use so paint doesn’t creep into the ferrule to dry up there and spread apart the bristles, and allow the brush to dry laying on its side, not upright. Plus always store them handle-side down so their bristles aren’t bent or splayed.

I also like specific liner brushes used for nail art because they're long, superfine, and hold their tip really well. These are great for liner-painting manes, feathers, and tails, in particular, or even hoof details because you don't need to re-dip for a single swipe. And they come in all sorts of sizes for any job and have protective caps, which are super handy.

What's more, I like the Camlon series of hyperfine brushes for eyes and superfine detailing like ticking and whatnot. These are hard to get as they're from Japan and I can only find them available on eBay (they sell out often), but they are absolutely top of the line for this type of brush and work uncannily well for such fine little brushes. I've also tripled up on the 100/0 size Camlon brush as back ups. Just a note about these brushes: Don't soak the bristles with paint. Keep the paint on the tips only and clean religiously after use. This will prevent paint from seeping up into the ferrule and splitting apart the bristles to ruin the superfine tips. Also, don't use these brushes to actually mix your paints. Just use them to dip 'n' dab otherwise you'll ruin the tips. So take good care of these nifty little brushes and they'll last you a lifetime. And that goes for all of your fine painting brushes, actually. Instead, use a palette knife or a junker brush to mix up your colors on the palette then use your good brushes to dip 'n' dab to keep them pristine. For my junker mixing brush then, I use a beaten up old artificial bristle round in size 4, but I also use a size 6 for when I need a bigger pile of paint.

Believe it or not, beaten up old stencil brushes can be your best friend when painting realistic horses! Like, they can be used as a randomizing tool to generate a more organic pattern for sabinos, roans, appaloosa mottling or splotching, and other such effects. Similarly, don’t overlook the tried and true use of a toothbrush to create speckling, roaning, or fleabites! Use both with watered down paint to create a randomized template to refine further with a fine brush and paint. But going about it this way will help to create more organic randomness for you, helping to prevent that dreaded artificial look of regimentation and formula. Truly, one of the worst enemies of painting realistic horses is regimentation, or a too uniform interpretation of dappling, ticking, fleabites, ragged patterns, roaning, mottling and other such organically randomized effects. Absolutely, one of the biggest tricks and challenges in paintwork is achieving that genetic, organic "luck of the draw" look to such things. But if you learn to use a ragged stencil brush and a toothbrush as a template, you can often achieve a more convincing, more "organically chaotic" result. What's more, a lot of painters, especially those who work in oil, use beaten up small brushes to paint dapples with great success, so don't be so quick to throw out that mashed up little brush! Instead, put it to work if you can.

Now going on a tangent for oil painting, make-up brushes are a real boon! Yes! Make-up brushes! In particular, the E.L.F. brushes are often the best choices because they're cheap (on average about $2-$4 per brush), easily found (like at CVS or the E.L.F website), a great texture, and they don't shed. Just a solid choice at a fraction of the price of an equivalent artist's brush. For instance, I like the E.L.F. Eye crease brush ($3) as a mop brush for buffing small scales or precision areas on big scales, being the perfect size, density, spring, and softness. And I like the E.L.F. Small smudge brush ($6) for dappling, hooves, dun factors, leg detailing, and facial painting in oils. It's also a great drybrushing brush for acrylics though, like for detailing, hooves, dun factoring, and dappling, etc. But yeah...don't overlook make-up brushes or nail art brushes for what we do! Often, they're the better choice and at much more affordable prices!

Pencils

A nifty medium for manes, tails, feathering, hooves, and dappling (of any kind) and even dun factors are color pencils. Yes! Colored pencils! They come in an array of hues and offer you a tremendous degree of control and subtlety that’s tricky to achieve with brushes and paint, which can look “painted on” if not carefully done. For instance, I like to airbrush or drybrush in my tonal changes or dapples, then spray with Dullcote and let dry. Then go in with color pencils to detail out the hair striations which produces a beautiful wispy effect, or detail or amplify dapples, and all without looking “painted on.” You can even lightly burnish the color pencils with a smudge stick like what you’d use for charcoal pencil to even out the grain a bit more. Then Dullcote again and you can layer paint on top to "set that back" even more. The only real trick to them is to use the right colors and, more importantly, to keep the pencil tips sharp for a nice line. Also, don’t press down too hard or you’ll tear your underlying paint layers. And you can even intermix them with brushwork, too, for some pretty complex effects, given you use Dullcote to give the surface some "tooth" again. As for the brand I prefer, I like Derwents over Prismacolor as the Derwents aren't so waxy, being more pigmented. But Prismacolors work okay if that's all you have. But also consider Faber-Castells and Holbeins and Caran d'Aches, depending on what you prefer, because these are better than Prismacolors, too.

Along those lines, pastel or chalk pencils work great, too, especially for dapples and facial shadings. Use that smudge stick or pointed Q-tips to soften them if you wish, too (the Q-tips often work better because they're softer). The only hitch to these is that they don’t come in too many colors, but if you use the white one, you can spray over it with Dullcote to fix it down, then tint it with overlying colored glazes for a very luminescent effect. As for that white one, I like the General's White Chalk #4414 pencil best. It's great for pale dapples and detailing (like on the face, legs, "ghost trails," etc.), and in manes and tails. Just be sure to Dullcote spray these types of pencils first before proceeding with further painting or glazing, or they'll just dissolve away or lift off.

Hooves

Hooves are some of the trickiest aspects of horsedom to render in paint. Why is that? Well, when you really break them down, they’re a complex blend of tones, details, and effects on a small area, but on a circular continuum around the hoof wall. They also have a "translucent" quality to them, a kind of luminescence that's important to capture. They can be stained with environmental relics, too, adding complicated details and effects into the mix. All this means we need to be extremely precise and detailed but also very sensitive to tone and impression at the same time, all the while "painting on the round." If we aren’t careful then, they can look sloppily done or, alternately, look too formulaic and artificial, like the horse lived in a “reality vacuum," or on the other hand, the different areas of our hoof won't seem cohesive together. So we need to hit that balance between “organic chaos," structure, and cohesiveness in order to capture the intricacies of the hoof wall "on the round." So what does that mean? A lot of futzing, that’s what! Ack! But it’s all doable with some insights and methods.

For one, follow your references religiously for the colorations, effects, details, and striping on your hooves. For example, striping only happens in certain conditions, not all willy nilly. Like ermine spots on the coronet can birth a stripe, but then again, appaloosas have their own tendencies in hoof striping we should be aware of, too. The point is, details like stripes aren’t random but follow some basic tendencies we should be sensitive to in our references. What's more, every hoof is different so really lean into your references and away from habit and formula. For another, the medium we use to paint hooves can make a big difference, based on our own preferences. For instance, some oil painters prefer to paint their details, like hooves, in acrylics while others prefer to continue with oils. The point is, if you’re really struggling with painting your hooves, it may not necessarily be the method you’re using, but the medium. So experiment to see what might work better for you because you can use oils, acrylics, pastels, color pencils, inks, and even conte crayon or charcoal pencils — or a mixed media approach with a bunch of them — to color your hooves. Indeed, with hooves it’s whatever works!

So to maybe help your own explorations along, here’s how I paint hooves nowadays for some hopefully helpful ideas. I most often use acrylic paint and color pencils, but sometimes I'll throw in other media as needed like oils, charcoal, or pastel pencils. I’ll use a pale hoof as the example but the same ideas can apply to dark hooves, too, as follows:

First: With a brush and paint, paint the whole hoof its main color, in this case a yellowish light tan color. Let that dry. (Lean into your references as "shell" colors vary.)
Second: With a brush and paint, paint on the tonal shifts and gradations, around the whole hoof. These are the big ideas of color blocking on the hoof wall. For instance, with a polished clean show hoof I may make the hoof around the coronet lighter and darker around the rim whereas on a pasture hoof, I may do the opposite. So look for color gradations, patches, and other effects on your references and paint them in now, sticking to the big ideas.
Third: With a brush and paint, add in detail like striations, hoof rings, and other more specific discolorations. Be mindful of organic randomness and what your references are telling you. Also be very sensitive to the tones you’re using because they can really convey “hoofwall” all by themselves. However, avoid things like rusty-colored streaks or reddish splotches as this indicates bruising inside the foot.
Fourth: Start to add in stripes (if present), varying their tones, intensities, widths and striations, leaning into your references. You can start to do this by watering down blacks, browns, greys, and charcoals and striping them on, keeping them straight and parallel to the dorsal aspect of the hoofwall and the angle of the heel at all times. Remember, striping runs inside the hoof tubules, so any deviation away from that parallel origination indicates a major problem with the hoof tubules of the wall. Let all that dry.
Fifth: Go back over the stripes to “set them back” into the paintwork so they look embedded rather than “painted on.” That’s to say striping has a “bruised,” embedded look to them, not a “floating on top” appearance. So we can “set them back” by adjusting their tones. For example, a duller, more pastel charcoal looks more embedded than a straight, clean black. Does that make sense? We can also add details into them like striations that can make them look more organic and “grown” rather than painted-on. Make more adjustments as you see fit, then let it all dry and spray with Dullcote to add “tooth” back into the surface.
Sixth: Now I take color pencils and add more subtle and soft striations and detailing to really take it home. I can burnish the color pencils with a smudger, too, to smooth out their pigment sometimes. I may also use pastel pencils for softer, smudgier effects on occasion.
Seventh: Then I’ll lightly spray again with Dullcote, and make more adjustments with paint or pencils, doing lots of back ’n’ forth to achieve the embedded, detailed, and organic “grown” look I want until I’m satisfied. (No wonder why painting hooves takes so long!) When done, I’ll simply seal them when I do the final all-over finishing spray with Dullcote.
Eighth: Depending on the type of grooming involved, I may leave as-is (if pasture rough) or gloss with Liquitex Gloss Varnish (if show groomed). And voilá—finito! It only took ten bajillion hours!
Note: Don’t forget the chalky, pale periople under the coronet! And don’t overlook green staining from the grass or manure either, or how dirt stains stick to the waxy hoofwall. So pay close attention to your references and be mindful of environmental and situational context with your colorations and detailing.

All this said though, the types of brushes you use to paint hooves can be critical. Again, I like to use rounds of various sizes (sizes 0-4) with good points and long bristles with “big bellies” to really hold a good well of paint so I don’t have to stop and re-dip. But small filberts (in sizes 2-4) are immensely handy, too, for applying the overall color and also for swatches of coloration and blending them together. Also handy is that E.L.F. Small smudge brush which can afford you a lot of smudging ability with a lot of control.

Also think about painting technique. Like besides brushing the paints on, also consider drybrushing and wet-on-wet techniques to flesh out your effects and details. You can even use an airbrush on occasion if you can really control it well enough.

Bonus Tip: Reference Images

Of course using references is important to what we do, indeed, it’s fundamental! But even more, knowing how to manipulate our references in a photo editing program can make them even more accurate and powerful for you. For starters, knowing how to correct their color, lighting, and saturation is key for preparing them for use as a painting reference (Recommended reading: Color Conniptions: Learning How To See Color Accurately). That’s to say we just can’t use a reference right out of the gate. We need to check it to make sure the color is accurate, the lighting is optimum, and the saturation levels are correct before we jump in.

What’s more, we should know how to grayscale our references to reduce such things as dappling patterns, white patterns, and spotted patterns down to more simplistic terms which can really help us interpret the patterns more accurately on our model.

But perhaps most powerful of all, learning how to invert the darks and lights on our references can yield extremely helpful insights into white patterns and spotting patterns, and especially of dappling patterns no matter how complicated. Truly, inverting a dappling reference can be a key insight into getting the pattern more correct on our piece.

Conclusion

So there ya go, my top five tips (plus one!) for painting realistic equine sculptures! Think about playing around with some or all of them to augment your own skillset to maybe bump your painting up a notch or two! Or maybe all they do is get you thinking in a new way about your own painting methods, and off you go in new directions! And that can be tremendously important to do from time to time.

Because the gist of all this is to stay open to new ideas and methods, always. We all have our own ways of doing things — our own habits, formulas, biases, comfort zones, and conventions that tell us when our work looks correct and done. But the thing is, all this can be misinformed right under our noses if we aren’t careful to pick them apart and reconsider them from time to time with new ideas and techniques, even new media. So we should stay a learner and never get too comfortable with our own ways of doing things otherwise we risk creative plateaus and artistic traps like dated work and skews. Likewise, if we’re painting things with the same formulas repeatedly — when life is all about diversity, variety, options, and “organic chaos” — we risk a homogenized portfolio that can become boring and increasingly irrelevant. We don’t want that! So consider taking some classes and workshops, reading techniques articles and watching some how-to videos, and generally rattling our own cage every so often to keep our work evolving, fresh, and current. Really, no matter how long we've been at this, there's always room to grow!

And for three dollops of unsolicited best advice, I would suggest, first, chasing after your inspirations without becoming a slave to them and, second, knowing exactly who matters most in your creative journey, and third, turning your intimidations into inspirations with a little shift in your perspective. Armed with this trifecta, you're well on your way to sustained momentum in both your creativity and enjoyment no matter what potholes you encounter. Because — yes — we all have to deal with our own various potholes in our creative adventures and it's how we navigate them that can often spell the difference between our steadfast enthusiasm or our bitter disillusionment, so give it a good ponder. You owe it to yourself and your art to seat your paradigm squarely on those notions that foster your artistry best! Never forget that in all space and time, your art is wholly unique, and wholly unique just to you. You are the one and only conduit for it to come into the world, so do yourself a favor: Always remember just how special and precious your Voice truly is so joyously use it!

Wrap it all up then and this kind of approach can keep our painting exploratory and experimental, helping to keep our efforts exciting and our portfolio interesting. But most of all, we’ll probably find a new satisfaction in our efforts when we approach our painting with fresh curiosity rather than routine. Without a doubt, learning something new — and happily surprising ourselves int he process — is a great feeling, an addictive feeling, and that can feed on itself to spin our paintwork into enticing new realms of realism and artistry! And that’s definitely worth a big high five! *slap* Go, you!

Painting is easy when you don't know how, but very difficult when you do.

― Edgar Degas

Paralyzed By Perfection: Breaking Free Of The Cycle

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Thu, 15 Jan 2026 23:25:00 +0000

Introduction

Our art form is pretty demanding, isn’t it? Capturing the equine realistically is probably one of the toughest forms of art ever. Ooof. Compounding matters, we’re pretty demanding of ourselves as well. With our inspiring visions and our own lofty ideals and goals, we set our bars unbelievably high. Double oof. Then exacerbating all that, we have hot competition in the mix that makes comparative judgments on “better,” whatever that means. Triple ooof. Now add into all that the nature of what we’re arting on: Probably expensive OFs and ARs, maybe even a bisque ceramic. In other words, things we don’t want to mess up. Quadruple oof. It’s a lot. Really — it’s a lot. Perhaps it’s too much. Because smash all this together and that ugly monster, perfectionism, rises from the muck to turn us all into Don Quixotes chasing impossible windmills. It’s no surprise then why we have a creative crisis in our community, or put another way, a systemic perfection paralysis that only seems to get worse every year.

To really deep dive it, one even gets a strong sense of a real tangible fear of creativity out there — people are actually afraid to even start something let alone finish it. More times than not then, it seems to be this hellbent perfectionism — of not messing up — at the festering base of it all. If we can squish it then, can we encourage more people to take up tool and brush? Maybe!

So to that end let’s talk about this perfectionist phenomenon in depth and even better, let’s explore twenty-five actionable strategies that can short-circuit this paralysis mess. Because the community needs your art! We need you creating and expressing and exploring! It’s good for you, it’s good for the community, and it’s good for our art form! So let’s explore all this to jumpstart your arting so you, too, can bask in art joy!

What Is perfectionism?

Curiously, it's not so easy to pin down a specific definition as one person’s experience can be quite different from another’s. But if we want to distill it down into the simplest terms, we can think of perfectionism this way: The pursuit of excessively, even impossibly high, unrelenting perceived standards.

On paper that sounds great, doesn’t it? Like just what the doctor ordered for our exacting art form, right? Well, in practice it’s a whole ‘nuther kettle of fish. You see, perfection often doesn’t lead to better work, as odd as that sounds. There is such a thing as overworking a piece, and overworking is the surest way to ruining your work. Also, “perfection” is typically a strange ambiguity in the mind of the artist so as they kill themselves trying to get things “just so,” halfway would’ve been more than sufficient for the brilliance of the piece, and even for everyone else.

So then what is perfection paralysis?

When we allow perfectionism to get out of control, it’s going to paralyze our efforts. Indeed, this creative inertia is inevitable when we’re rooted in a fear of making mistakes, under high pressure to excel, and all in the pursuit of an unattainable goal. Really, would we train a horse this way? No? Then why apply it to ourselves?!

Because instead of getting us to create the best work we can muster, perfectionism tends to generate fear. Yes — actual, tangible fear. Fear of mistakes. Fear of shame. Fear of humiliation. Fear of disappointment. Fear of those ugly voices in your head. Fear of your past. Fear of messing up. Fear of ruining a model. Fear of struggle. Fear of criticism. Fear of the outcome should you fail or even if you succeed. Fear of “I’m not enough.” Fear of many things when you break it down. And that fear can burble up in many different ways such as procrastination, insecurities, impostor syndrome, avoidance, artistic plateaus, creative stagnation, displaced frustration, fixation on the achievements of others, comparisons, fighting deadlines, lashing out, spinning our wheels and not calling “done,” chasing external validation, quitting mid-way, and incessant distraction.

Now scoop all that up and we typically end up with a bowlful of low self-esteem, high self-doubt, loads of fear, heaps of negative self-talk, and the cherry on top of this ugly sundae, that “I’m not enough” sentiment. Hardly the heady promise perfectionism first presented us, huh? That’s a lot of negative feedback for being creative! No, thank you! No wonder so many avoid it!

And here’s the tricky bit: Perfectionism can feel highly productive. But it isn’t. Not by a long shot. This is because perfectionism camouflages itself as ambition, but the truth is, it’s rooted in fear. As such, this fuels procrastination or avoidance. Really, if you’re going to mess it up, why start? If it won’t be perfect, it’s not worth doing, right? Or if you can’t get it perfect, why finish? But inaction doesn’t get the arting done. Delays won’t meet your goals. Hesitation or spinning wheels won’t finish the piece. So the enemy of your progress isn’t a lack of talent or skill, it isn’t even laziness or distraction. It’s perfectionism masquerading as help.

From a scientific perspective, Dr. Brené Brown’s research into vulnerability and shame found that perfectionism is a defense mechanism. If we create perfect pieces, we’ll avoid failure, rejection, judgment, and criticism and gain praise and standing. But the actual truth is that perfection isn’t protective or promoting of all the good stuff — it’s paralyzing. Neurologically, this is because perfectionism activates the amygdala — your brain’s fear center — triggering the fight-flight-freeze response, putting you in survival mode. In other words, rather than diving into problem-solving and action-taking, your brain defaults into avoidance. Quite literally then, the more you care about success and achievement, the more perfectionism takes over, actually putting you into a kind of creative panic. Hardly a good scenario for creative joy! And a terrible scenario for getting pieces started or finished.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Now yes — it’s important to work towards your goals and put forth your best effort, but if we’re unaccepting of mistakes or we base our self-worth on the perfection of the outcome only, no wonder we run into problems. There is a better way.

Outward Pressure for Perfection

That said however, we must acknowledge that we live in a culture that values success and frowns on failure. Social media amplifies all this by literally presenting highlight reels of highly curated content. Like we’ll see the finished piece someone posted, but we won’t see all the struggle, mistakes, frustration, and messiness that went into it. Likewise, we operate in a community that values correctness or high quality and rejects incorrectness or poor quality. And we cannot deny this: Perfection can excel in the show ring, in the market, and in brand building. We can’t ignore that.

But on the flip side, what does all that even mean? Like when we have technical and artistic masterpieces meeting with crickets while lesser works meet with wild praise, what’s perfect? It seems that perfection is simply an arbitrary determination based on whatever seems to appeal to most people, and that can have absolutely nothing to do with what’s actually high quality or correct.

We also can’t deny that the very best of our works definitely set a very high bar, or so it seems. Even impossibly high bars for many people, or so it seems. But whatever the perceived perfection of our best pieces, there’s this flip side to them, too: None of them are actually perfect, by definition. They were all made by foible human hands and therefore are intrinsically imperfect, no matter how perfect they may appear. Trust me, for every piece that seems without a flaw, it does have them. They always do — and it’s that a wonderful thing? As Scott Christian Sava observes…

You learn to accept the mistakes. The imperfections. Allowing the mistakes and imperfections to remain helps you to be more comfortable with them. And the more comfortable you become with your imperfections, the less they FEEL like imperfections. Those wonky eyes or the odd color choices start to make your art feel unique. Maybe even bold or avant-garde, as the critics may say. Learning to let your art not be perfect may be exactly what you need in your quest of finding your own voice.

There’s this phenomenon, too: Only you see the imperfections in your work. Everyone else? Well, they mostly see a beautiful piece of equine art. We’re all our own worst critics, aren't we? Yup. Well, quit it. If I had a dollar for every time an artist pointed out the flaws in their work that appear perfectly gorgeous to me, I could buy a vast herd of Welsh Ponies. So never forget that most people simply don’t see your work the way you do. In fact, everyone will perceive your work in their own way as they bring their own inner landscape to the table. Let them. Just always consider this — are you too close to your piece? Now this isn’t a bad thing per se. You’re the artist and your art is your baby — a beautiful connection. However, if that connection distracts you, that does become a liability. So try to keep things in perspective…what you’re perceiving as “fiddly flaws” are probably just perfectly fine to everyone else.

Perfectionism Is A Form Of Anxiety

Believe it or not, perfectionism isn’t this romanticized pursuit of the highest standards in some high brow way. Sure, we like to tell ourselves that, but that’s not what’s actually happening thanks to that pesky amygdala. Instead, what’s more likely happening is that perfectionism is feeding off and triggering our anxiety, and that’s a very different equation. In fact, studies have found a possible link between perfectionism and anxiety, as in those with anxiety disorders tend to have more perfectionist tendencies. We can’t deny that the unrelenting drive to meet the various high expectations can increase the anxiety we already have. In fact, the relationship between anxiety and perfectionism can be so acute, there’s actually a cycle associated with it:

You set excessively high, even unattainable goals.
You don’t meet those unrealistic goals.
You procrastinate or avoid finishing.
Your self-esteem lowers thanks to negative self-talk and self-criticism, which leads to more anxiety, avoidance, even depression.
You restart with a new piece, but with the similar excessive expectations and restart the cycle.

Sounds familiar? If I had a dollar for every time someone told me about their unfinished piece because they quit out of disillusionment, I’d be able to buy an entire antique carousel. But again, it doesn’t have to be this way! You can start and finish each and every piece you pick up with some straightforward strategies! And we start with some hard realizations, which brings us to…

MythBusting

It’s time for some perfectionism myth busting! These are some actual truths about perfectionism we should realize before we ever hope to beat it. Know thy enemy, my friend! So let’s get started…

#1 Perfectionism isn’t what you think it is

Most folks interpret perfectionists as those who don’t make mistakes, are high achievers in their chosen pursuit, and are highly motivated to get the job done properly. But the evidence doesn’t bear that out. Instead, there’s a very clear correlation between perfectionism and procrastination and of subpar performance from overworking and overthinking everything. Perfection doesn’t lead to action, let alone better action, it leads directly to all the things we need to avoid.

#2 Recognize that perfection isn’t real

Perfection is an illusion, a fraud, and a delusion. There. I said it. And I’d say it again if I had to. And it’s true. Quite literally, there's no amount of hard work, study, determination, or sacrifice that can make our piece perfect. It’s all a lie, one that keeps you stuck and spinning your wheels. Why is that? Because perfection is completely unattainable. We are fallible human beings and so anything we create will be imperfect. That’s just the way of it. Only Nature can create a perfect equine, only DNA has that power. Everything we ever recreate then will simply be an imperfect facsimile, a flawed interpretation. What’s more, and perhaps more pointed, “perfect” means different things to different people. What is perfect to one person will be flawed to another. Like put a “perfect” piece in front of five savvy judges or educated artists and each will pick out different errors based on their own knowledge bases, blindspots, strengths, allowances, biases, and aesthetics. There's just no amount of finesse or knowledge that can accurately recreate our subject perfectly! Even the PAM, one of the most beloved OFs in our history, is flawed anatomically and conformationally. Yet look how we love her all the same (that’s a key understanding, by the way).

#3 Confidence isn’t something you think or feel into being

You don’t just get confident. It’s not a state you can just decide into existence. The brain doesn’t work that way. Nope. You have to do it the hard way — confidence only comes with the doing of it, not by the thinking about it. You have to do it. You see, research shows that you gain confidence by doing confident things, that you build confidence through action. In other words, your brain interprets bold action as confirmation, as evidence. So just do the thing! Fake it ‘till you make it is literally how it works.

Besides, confidence is overrated anyway. You don't even need it to start. Just do it. "Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can," said Arthur Ashe. Yep! Like when I took my wheel throwing classes, I had zero experience and zero confidence, but I just jumped in head first all the same. I’ve been making a lot of mistakes, but I learn as I go. Sometimes I’ll even make the same mistake again as I learn — that’s normal and expected. So much of what we do in our art is “by feel,” and learning that zone just takes a lot of repeated doings to finesse it. But the takeaway is this: It's in the doing that I'm building my confidence pot by pot.

What’s more, there’s a far more important form of confidence beyond simply the “I know I can do this well” kind of confidence. This better form is the “I may fail but I know I can bounce back” kind of confidence. That’s the brand that’s going to get you where you need to go!

#4 You don’t have to show your art to anyone

You can create your art only for you to see! There’s no rule that says you have to show it to anyone for it to be real art. Indeed, tons of artists in the past sat on art that no one saw until their deaths. The point is to just get arting. Who cares if anyone sees it, right? Create your art for yourself.

In fact, you can even throw your art out! If you don’t like it — chuck it. There’s no law saying it has to stick with you forever. Like if you do sketches you don’t like, throw them out. If you create a paintjob that makes you gag, primer over it and start over.

#5 The end product isn’t the point of being creative

This may sound counterintuitive, but it’s true: Your finished piece is only incidental, it’s not the point of creating art in the first place. The real point of arting is the process, the making of the art, the exploration, the analysis, the journey, the experience. You see, the creative process is good for your brain, body, and soul as research has found time and again. In a very real sense, it’s a form of therapy and rehabilitation that just happens to burp out a finished thing at the end of the creative cycle. Make the process the point then and forget about the rest. If you do that, the finished piece will simply make itself.

#6 Failure isn’t final

You’re the maker here! And you often get multiple second chances or error-fixing opportunities. So simply start again! Fix the errors as you go or start a whole new piece, bringing those fresh lessons to the table. Absolutely, failure is just the beginning, isn’t it? Mistakes aren’t the end…they’re the lesson! They’re the tidbits you needed to flesh out your skillset so recognize them, learn from them, and move forwards again. Indeed, the human brain is wired to learn by making mistakes, so be grateful for each lesson learned. “We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents,” said Bob Ross. Absolutely! If anyone understood the power of just diving in and arting, it was ol’ Bob!

#7 There is no high bar

Like in The Matrix — there is no spoon. The bar is an illusion. Why? Because we work in an art form of moving goal posts. So there’s only your bar — your expectations, goals, and vision. So stop comparing your work to others! It’s a pointless, destructive thing to do as it erodes your art joy and introduces unnecessary doubt. It also misguides you and lies to you. It can even compromise your precious Voice and get you lost in the weeds. Because the truth is you’re doing better than you think you are, and what you think of as The High Bar is merely your perfectionist baggage talking again. Instead then think about how you can improve on your own work, looking at your past pieces for clues to the next stepping stones.

#8 100% is the only option

No. No, it is not. Not doing something because you feel you can’t reach 100% is better how as compared to doing something 70% and completing it? Which one actually gets you arting? Which one completes the piece? And okay, so it’s 70% effort — so what? Sure it has a few hiccups, big deal. What piece doesn’t? And did you enjoy creating it? Did it bring you sanctuary, calm, and fascination? If so, that’s a 100% win! And the fact of the matter is this — no one cares if you invested 100% or 70%! All they’ll see is a beautiful piece and that’s darn well good enough.

#9 Good, real artists aren’t afraid like I am

Oh boy — no way. As Scott Christian Sava astutely shares…

Every artist feels insecure in their art and abilities. Every artist has doubts. Imposter syndrome. Fear of not being good enough. Every. Single. One. Of. Us. But the world would be so much less beautiful if we let that stop us from making art. We need to be content with wherever we are on our artistic journey. Don't allow insecurity to keep you from enjoying your art. You're on a journey. You and your art. Grow together. Explore together. Learn together. And share the beauty inside of you together. Through your art.

Heck, I’ve been at this for over thirty years and I’m still intimidated with the start of every new piece! And I wager that’s true for darn near every single artist, no matter how successful. You are far from alone in your fear. Because really, it’s asking a lot of us to take that perfect vision in our head and make it real — that’s a lot for the Universe to ask. But it’s a brilliant, beautiful ask, and it’s one you should answer with your most self-compassionate, best effort. It’s good for you.

Consider this, too, "Successful people have fear, successful people have doubts, and successful people have worries. They just don't let these feelings stop them," said T. Harv Eker. It's true...successful artists simply learn to sit with their fear and create anyway. Indeed, there comes a point when not arting becomes a real liability to your well-being and the scales tip, and so you just start creating despite it all. It's when we don't indulge that follow through that we run into real problems that affect our daily lives. It's a worthwhile ponder to consider just how your untapped creativity is burbling up in other aspects of your life, perhaps in unwanted ways. Indeed, think about how you would feel if you were really creative again or for the first time. Think how lovely that could feel.

#10 I have to customize the perfect expensive OF or Resin to create the perfect model

Nope! You can buy a $10 Breyer off eBay, input a decent enough prepwork and paintjob on it, and still have a good shot in the ring! Now yes, what mold you pick can make a big difference, but the fact is that many great molds are the old ones which are super cheap as bodies. Like all the Maureen Love OFs — I’ve bought a beaten up Classic MoW off eBay for $5. And who cares if you mess up a $5 body? As you gain experience and confidence then on the cheap bodies, you can think about upscaling to more expensive ones like modern Breyers and Stones, maybe even some Resins. The point is — start small and modest, and work your way up. But I’ve seen so many well-customized cheap old bodies just smash the competition, so don’t sabotage yourself by thinking you need to spend big bucks! There’s lots of great sculptures out there at a fraction of the price that present a lot less intimidation-factor and a whole lot more accessibility.

And if you have a hard time messing up a perfectly nice OF, have someone else take some sandpaper to it to ruin it. Hey, I know it can be hard if you like the factory paintjob on a pristine body, so just get it junked up somehow and off you go! Skid it across the driveway even. Plus a lot of the cheapest bodies are already messed up from their years of wear and tear. Yahtzee!

#11 If I don’t make something perfect, people will think less of me

Hey — ease up on yourself. That’s your negative self-talk speaking, not reality. The thing is, you made something brand new and original, something that’s never existed before! You did that! How amazing! It’s literally a miracle in your hands! And it’s wholly yours, your Voice and your vision! How cool is that?! No matter how good or bad it is then, if anyone has a problem with that, it’s a them problem at that point. That a vulnerable, frail human being gutted it out to create a piece of art is probably one of the most beautiful things to ever happen in all existence! And that’s all on you! What a marvel! And believe me when I tell you that you can get flack just as much if you create work that’s “too good.” You literally can’t win for losing. So why even care about external validation? Who cares what people think? Really, the only person you should be pleasing with your work is…you! You’re the only one who matters in this feedback equation! “The audience comes last,” says Rick Rubin, and he’s absolutely right.

But now okay, yeah — let’s take that “think less of me” idea to a logical limit. Let’s say you do create something abysmally bad. Welcome to the club! Anyone who has ever arted in all of time has been there before! Been there, done that. It’s nothing new. There's no artist ever who didn’t have a bad art day every now and again. Even the most successful among us. It’s part of the mystery of arting. So going even further into the logic — so what? Really, so what? So you created something horrendous. No big whoop. Learn from it, fix it if you can, move forwards. Correct as you go or even start over or do better next time, it’s simply part of the process. No artist ever gets it right all the time, there are always corrections made along the way. And yes, it may look like magic to you, but just remember there’s a lot of mistaken scrawls behind every bold line!

#12 If I work hard enough, I can make every piece perfect

As unlikely as it sounds, that’s a big nope. That’s not how it works. The mystery and magic of making art is far more convoluted. Look here’s the deal: You’re going to make some “bad” art no matter how hard you work at it. Every artist — even the best ones — all make problematic art from time to time. That’s simply the nature of arting. Like I’ve seen so many pieces where the artist invested days, weeks, months, even years of diligent, ardent work, and it still has issues, and it’s often still not “perfect” in their eyes either. The hard fact is this: All the hard work in the world won’t ever make a piece perfect. That’s not how you create perfection. If there’s anything I’ve learned in over thirty years doing all this as a perfectionist myself, it’s this: You come closest to perfection from knowing the rules well enough to allow serendipity to bend them organically. That’s to say, when you get really good at what you do, you tend to create from your gut, not from your mind. Now yes, it takes a lot of work to get there — and it’s important to invest that kind of work — but the point is this: Loosen up on yourself and allow your guts to start taking over. Your artistic intuition is more on point than you know.

But yeah, you’re going to make bad art! And that’s perfectly okay — that’s normal! Every artist does! As Scott Christian Sava assures us…

You’re human. You can't expect everything to be perfect. Don't put that kind of pressure on yourself by thinking you will never make a mistake and never make bad art. You're going to make LOTS of bad art! Horrendous art. Stupendously ugly art. Gloriously contemptuous art. It. Will. Happen. And you're going to attempt to fix it. You're going to try everything to make it work. You're going to invent techniques no one has ever even conceived of to try to save your art. And...it won't work. Not always. But sometimes it will. And it will be the greatest thing ever. You'll add that technique to your "bag of tricks" for when the next big goof-up happens. You'll keep making huge abominations, and you'll keep trying to fix them, and sometimes it will work and sometimes it won't. That's art.

Twenty-Five Strategies for Beating Perfectionism

Luckily for us, there are lots of ways to break the perfectionism paralysis cycle! If we adopt just one of them, we’ll have gained a powerful new foothold — use it. But if we adopt all of them, we become an unstoppable arting machine, cranking out work with a lot more clarity and ease. This is because perfection cannot flourish in the artistry of someone who’s fully got ‘em all hummin’ along. So what’s left to fill that vacuum? Your unbridled creativity, that’s what! So let’s dive into these myriad strategies to get you back into the studio happily and productively arting away!

#1 Adopt the Japanese concept of impermanence and imperfection, wabi-sabi. This is perhaps the most powerful single resource in our arsenal because it’s not so much a strategy as a philosophy, and being so, takes up the proverbial chair where perfection would sit. Indeed, there is no perfectionism that can take root in the creative mind run by wabi-sabi! But what is exactly wabi-sabi? Well, it’s the acceptance that nothing is permanent and everything is imperfect, and therefore is all the more beautiful and meaningful for it. Just as much, it’s the belief that the creative process is more important than the product, or rather the deeply felt experience of arting overrides the need for a perfect outcome. In actuality then, if you truly practice wabi-sabi, you’ll create a gorgeous piece automatically, despite all its inevitable flaws which only make it more unique and special anyway. So you win either way! In essence, the end product is merely incidental, the real gift is in the doing. To this end then, regularly practice activities that aren’t goal-oriented insofar as having to be perfect or even good. Like go to a paint n’ sip where you don’t make masterpieces — on purpose — you make memories. Now sure, this may make a perfectionist uncomfortable, but do it enough times in the right spirit, and you’ll soon learn that no one dies if it’s not perfect! No one dies! And you’ll quickly re-orient your attention on the process and experience rather than on the end product, where your attention is best applied.

#2 Focus on the progress you’re making with each attempt rather than on how perfect it is. Remember, perfection is subjective and unattainable, so strive for progress instead. Indeed, practice doesn’t make perfect, it can just make you better than your last attempt. But this is called growth, and it’s one of the best parts of arting! You see, “doing your best” isn’t the same as being perfect! “Doing your best” is very much a moment-based expectation, not measured against some impossible objective standard of perfection. So yes…do your best with the understanding that it’s not only imperfect, but even more, it’s progressing. So do your best work you can at that moment rather than aiming for perfection, and your work will only get better. That’s a pretty solid actionable goal. Indeed, progress is always preferable over perfection! You deserve to feel productive, too. You’re working hard on your art, and you deserve to feel proud of it, even when it’s not perfect. But the truth is, perfect is never the goal, impact is! If you’ve moved someone with your art in any way, that right there is a perfect outcome in an imperfect world! Your work doesn’t need to be perfect to do this either…it just needs to be created and finished.

#3 Set realistic, achievable goals rather than aiming for perfection, and celebrate each small victory along the way. In other words, practice compromise with yourself so you find a middle ground of actionable objectives rather than all-or-none thinking. So rather than thinking endlessly about that silver tobiano Classic Arabian Mare you have planned that needs to be absolute perfection, simply grab the body and start sanding. Let each stage exist on its own terms, and just get it done. Like I remember in my lamp-making class, a gal was obsessively getting her pattern absolutely perfect on her paper template without considering that it’s going to get messed up anyway as she applied it to the glass globe. Remember what matters and just get it done.

#4 Embrace all mistakes as moments of learning, of lessons from the Universe given to you. They are your stepping stones to progress, are part of the learning process and opportunities for growth. In this light, mistakes are gifts, aren’t they? They aren’t the end — they’re the beginning! Frame them that way and you now have a powerhouse of progress!

#5 Practice art play rigorously! Something that’s zero pressure and all play. No expectations and absolutely no need for perfection. For example, do some casual silly sketches for fun, nothing major, nothing precious. Just sketch and play around for kicks and no pressure. See where it takes you and what sort of inspirations it generates. Or not. Whatever. Just have fun with it! Or go to a paint n’ sip. That’s two hours out of your head, smearing pigment on a canvas with a bunch of other people just having fun, too. And most of all, futz around and find out with your art methods and aesthetics. Experiment and explore the possibilities, stretching your media and techniques in new directions. Ask “what if?” Or try whole new media and techniques for kicks! You never know what you’re truly possible of doing until you futz with it. Even better, draw with your kids. Kids get creativity like no other! You can even audit some classes so you can see how other folks struggle as you do, and even more, how they overcome those struggles.

#6 Always — always — practice self-compassion, especially when things don’t go as expected. In this, learn to laugh things off best you can and take a deep breath, and try again. So next time you have those intrusive perfectionist thoughts creep in, speak to yourself as a kind, guiding mentor would:

I’m doing my best now. Go, me!
Look at me! Putting so much earnest effort into this!
It’s okay to make mistakes — I’m human and an art explorer and lifetime learner!
I celebrate my quirks without being judgmental — I am enough!

Self-compassion also involves self-acceptance of all of you from your strengths to your pesky aspects of your personality. We’re human and so making mistakes — of not being perfect — and learning from them is an essential part of that. It’s how we grow and develop, and reach our potential. So embrace your uniqueness! Celebrate your individuality and specialness! Also focus on your strengths and resilience, and remind yourself of those often. Also consider sharing your creative experiences. Not only learning you aren’t alone in your struggles is beneficial, but the potential for learning, growth, and connection is huge as well, possibly turning a negative into a big positive!

#7 Beating perfectionism requires that we disrupt all-or-nothing thinking that can lead to procrastination. So break down whatever is scary to you into the tiniest, actionable steps. Truly tiny steps. Minuscule steps. Very chewable little bites and chew. So start small. Then only focus on that one step, not five steps ahead. This will help you from getting overwhelmed which spins you into a fearful inertia of avoidance. So maybe instead of being paralyzed with the thought of painting a wild sabino Classic Arabian Stallion, spend thirty minutes searching for reference photos and admiring the pretty ponies. Or rather than getting overwhelmed by painting that Adonis a buckskin overo, focus instead on just sanding those seams acceptably. Heck, focus on just sanding one leg if need be. Deconstruct it all down to the simplest, most achievable, bite-sized steps. You see, the problem is you’re probably seeing The Big Picture but that contains all the intimidating or tedious or annoying stuff, and it’s hard to reconcile that with this masterpiece in your mind. Seeing the job in too much detail can trigger our perfectionism in really overwhelming ways that can ironically spook us off the job all together. Don’t let that happen! Zoom in on just one detail at a time, and work on that. Baby steps are still travel miles, they’re still progress! Truly, if you did anything on your piece today, no matter how small, that’s tangible progress. And doesn’t it feel great to feel that accomplishment and cross that little task off your mental list? Indeed, micro-actions start the gears going and small victories build big momentum, so engineer your chewable bites accordingly. Absolutely, action and momentum are antidotes to perfectionism!

#8 As you work, experience the feeling of finishing that task, how good it actually feels. This is especially handy when doing tedious work such as sanding or ticking. In other words, as I’m sanding away the seams on my maquettes, I get through that tedious task by riding on the emotional high I generate by pretending I’m working on the very last part, all the time. This helps to keep my momentum going and helps me to muscle through a task I’m not so hip on doing.

#9 Learn to start blind. In other words, learn to just start working. Just go! You like painting the eyes best? Great — start there! There’s no law that says that eyes have to be painted last, right? Follow your endorphins where they want to go and don’t think too hard about things — just do things and go with the flow no matter how “out of order” it seems. Eventually, it’ll all meld and flow together and make sense in the end. And at that point, you have something rather than nothing at all, and you can work with that, can’t you? You can build on that! But the point is this: Just start wherever, in whatever way moves you, and develop from there.

#10 Learn the deft skill if saying, “Screw it, it’s good enough.” In other words, learn adeptly how and when to call “done.” Now granted you can’t go bananas with this because we can’t get apathetic or careless, right? But even still, stay sensitive to that special point in the process when the piece becomes truly done, when nothing can be improved by added work, and walk away. Let it go. Celebrate your accomplishment — you did it! — and then move onto the next one. No, stop fiddling with it or you’ll overwork it and ruin it! Call done. Let it live as it was meant to live. You see, if your piece could have turned out any other way — it would have! It was meant to turn out the specific way at that moment as deemed by the Universe, so let it be as it was meant to be, and be grateful for the experience and the lessons.

#11 Understand that art is a process, an exploration, not an end game. So immerse yourself in the process of making art, not in the perfection of it. And recognize that everything will make sense in the end despite all the multiple ugly stages and eyebrow raising steps you have to endure with the piece. Keep going, trust the process, keep picking away at it one babystep at a time. And often times, it won't come together until that last little touch that somehow is its crowning completing glory.

#12 You may have high expectations of perfection for your work, but understand that others don’t. That’s to say, no one in their right mind or with the best intentions for you expects you to be perfect. They expect you to be you with all your imperfections and strengths and quirks, but definitely not perfect. So ease up on this sense of external judgment and validation your perfectionism seems to fixate on so much. Just let it go and enjoy your arting as only you can enjoy it.

#13 Understand that perfectionism can actually compromise the value of innovation and experimentation which limits your creative potential. This is because perfectionism is actually generated by fear, and that breeds anxiety, and anxiety breeds a resistance to trying new ideas, media, methods, aesthetics, and tools. That’s to say, you can have this idea that your work is already perfect, so why improve it? In this way, perfectionism just entrenches you like a tick in the ways “I’ve always done it,” and that’s a particularly dangerous position to be in with our innovation-driven art form.

#14 Prioritize your energy! Your energy is a finite resource every day so don’t squander it! Because here’s the thing: The relentless pursuit of perfection can easily cause burnout between its pressures, negative feedback loop, and mental exhaustion. Perfectionism isn’t a noble pursuit, it’s a taxing exhaustion cycle that has only one destination — eventual disillusionment. If you want to keep arting productively then, ease up on perfection and dump more energy into having a more enjoyable experience.

#15 Here’s a handy trick: Let one thing be really, really good. Just one thing. So pick some aspect of your piece and pour your perfectionism into just that one feature. Like maybe you want to paint really amazing hooves — feed your perfectionism just on that. Or perhaps you want to make your sculpted ears really accurate — indulge perfectionism there. Then the rest of it? Exercise that “screw it, it’s good enough” rule. This is particularly useful when learning to sculpt specific body parts or learning to paint certain effects, like turning it into a learning opportunity instead. You can really propel your progress forwards with this tactic if you exercise it smartly.

#16 Learn how to identify and take the next best step. In this, deliberately lower the bar. That does sound counterintuitive, yes, but the thing is, that vision is perfect in your head, isn’t it? This shining example of impossible perfection. But it has to be, it has to be extraordinary to get us to stop whatever we’re doing and compel us to create it, right? But there’s no way ever that our physical interpretation will be as good as our vision…that’s not how visions work. So in other words, manage your expectations when working off your vision by lowering its bar to something achievable in real life. And remember this: Not every piece you make has to be the pinnacle achievement. You’re allowed to make some pieces purely for fun, in a more low-key way. Hey, more casual work is far from failure! It’s a typical part of life, really. Indeed, most art is created for enjoyment or creative exploration, not for hanging in some museum. Like I create my maquettes and NaReViMo horses very casually, and I find they really resonate with my inspiration in whole new wonderful ways.

#17 Never underestimate the power of arting in groups, or of surrounding yourself with a positive support system. Besides, the more brains that work a problem means there’s only that many more solutions to it. There’s power in numbers! For that then, think about joining art social media groups (given they’re properly moderated) and definitely consider joining the fun of NaMoPaiMo! Talk about a ginormous positive support system!

#18 Stay mindful of your perfectionist traits and drives. They’re easily triggered so we have to monitor them to make sure they don’t flare out of control. So stay cognizant of your reactions and expectations to stay more in the creative moment of tangible progress rather than being whisked away to The Land of Impossible Standards again.

#19 Stop comparing your work to others! Just stop. “Comparison is the death of joy,” said Mark Twain, and he was absolutely spot on. Heck, comparing your work to others can inhibit you from starting anything new at all, so just quit with that bad habit. Besides, it’s an apples to oranges comparison anyway when we gauge our work against others. Their magic isn’t the same as your magic, isn it? Nor is it meant to be — so stop trying to be something you aren’t! Your magic is more than enough, so focus on developing it to its fullest potential instead. As such, learn to only compare your work against your past portfolio so you can see how far you’ve actually come. That’s a far more beneficial and healthier comparison system in a well-developing long game anyway.

#20 Don’t overthink or over-analyze your work. Work more intuitively, more instinctively, more by your gut. You’ll find that your art flows out much more naturally from there than by your brain that’ll overthink something into the ground and out the other side of the planet. Along those lines, consider following the 70% rule: When you’re about 70% done (whatever that means to you), think about wrapping it up. This will help you to stop fiddling with a piece ad nauseam to overwork it or spin your wheels, plus it sets a kind of deadline, or finish line to call “done.” You’re essentially saying “it’s good enough,” and chances are — it is.

#21 Along with that, set a deadline, a day to call “done.” Often times, perfectionists need very clear goals with a non-negotiable hard stop to avoid that “just one more tweak” syndrome that leads to delays, overworking, and those cycles of diminishing returns. When that time comes then, you’re done, in whatever state the piece is in. So do this enough times, actually, and you find that you retrain your brain to value execution over endless “improvement,” and to adopt greater economy in decision-making and working.

#22 Realize that done is better than perfect. This isn’t just a platitude, it’s an actual strategy. Truly, when we focus on completion over perfection, something curious happens: Momentum builds, confidence grows, actions become more efficient, and decision making more effective. Your brain simply learns to become more economical in its actions, and that translates into more finished work.

#23 Reframe your perfectionist tendencies. For instance, shift from only focusing on the outcome to focusing on the process. Like rather than fixating on getting things super-perfect, just focus on showing up and working on your piece everyday to make some good headway. Or shift your fear of mistakes into an acceptance of mistakes as feedback. Indeed, mistakes are a powerful pathway for growth. And consider this: Limit your scope. Not every piece has to be your magnum opus! Set deadlines, finish, move on to improve on the next one. As Ed Gonzales wisely told me years ago, “Each horse is practice for the next.”

#24 If you’re a working artist and study sales psychology, the research is very clear: Your customers don’t want perfect. Rather, they want real, Voice-ful, relatable and reliable, consistent work that inspires them and with interactions that are genuine and honest. Authenticity, vulnerability, and personality builds connections, trust, and sales. So when you quit with the hyper-focus on perfectionism, you aren’t lowering your standards! You’re shifting your attention where it’s better spent, on your Voice, and so you’re creating connection. And that has far more power in your art than a mane tendril sculpted a “perfect” way.

#25 Remember that arting should first and foremost be fun! So do whatever it takes to keep your arting fun fun fun! If that means you adopt new attitudes — do it. If it means you work on different kinds of low-key work periodically — do it. If that means you enter fun contests and group happenings like NaMoPaiMo — do it. If that means you paint in unrealistic colors or create fantasy equines — do it. Whatever it takes. Like I participate in NaReViMo, I make casual maquettes for painting classes, I regularly attend a paint ’n sip, and I periodically create digital illustrations. I make pins and stickers and merch, too. Smoosh it all together and all these things keep my regular work fresh, informed, and lively because these other facets exercise different aspects of my creative drive. Try to engineer this, too — art with friends! Host an art retreat with buddies so you can create together! Or do it over Zoom! Make it a regular thing! Take a class, either on site or via Zoom! Creating in the presence of other artists can be a powerful, moving, and deeply enriching experience. And on that note, absolutely, anytime you can art with your kids is a good day!

Conclusion

For many artists, especially would-be artists, creating a piece less than perfectly is grounds for “forget the whole thing.” Perfectionism has this insidious little voice that tells you that if you can’t do everything and do it perfectly, you probably should do nothing at all. And so they sit — creatives not creating. But you see, there is no such thing as a “non-artistic person.” That’s a fallacy! They just don’t exist. Every human being is a creative — every single one. We are a creator species, it’s in our DNA. As Brené Brown observes, “There’s no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don’t. Unused creativity doesn’t just disappear. It lives within us until it’s expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear.” And as Elizabeth Gilbert relates…

If you’re alive, you’re a creative person. You and I and everyone you know are descended from tens of thousands of years of makers. Decorators, tinkerers, storytellers, dancers, explorers, fiddlers, drummers, builders, growers, problem-solvers, and embellishers—these are our common ancestors. The guardians of high culture will try to convince you that the arts belong only to a chosen few, but they are wrong and they are also annoying. We are all the chosen few. We are all makers by design. Even if you grew up watching cartoons in a sugar stupor from dawn to dusk, creativity still lurks within you. Your creativity is way older than you are, way older than any of us. Your very body and your very being are perfectly designed to live in collaboration with inspiration, and inspiration is still trying to find you—the same way it hunted down your ancestors.

Bingo! So don’t let fear or shame keep your creativity buried and untapped! Deep dive into it — it’s who you really are, to tell the truth! To explore your creativity is to explore the greater scope of you, and isn’t that a magnificent thing? So quit with the negative self-talk that keeps you stuck:

Am I just lazy?
What’s the matter with me?
Am I just not good enough?
Why am I so bad at this?
Why don’t I have any talent?
Why can’t I create as good as so-and-so?

Instead, ask yourself these more powerful questions:

What is the driving force behind my desire to create art?
Who or what seeded my insecurity and fear, and why is that still important to me?
Why do I indulge negative self-talk? What purpose does that serve?
What would I feel like if I was creative?
What do I think success would be like if I was creative?
How can I make my work authentically my own? How can I find and develop my voice?
Why am I comparing my work to that of others, and so negatively? Why do I frame it that way?
What creative challenges am I willing to take on right now? Which ones am I not willing to tackle right now? Why?
What would my art be like if I learned not to care about other people’s opinions of it?
What’s one small creative project I can do right now, just for fun?
What’s the next skill or media I want to learn to do?
Can a classroom help me take the next step?

Really dig deep. You’re excavating your fear to rescue your creativity! Because your art is important because you are important. Don’t allow perfectionism to tell you any differently! So it’s time to let go of your perfectionism. Truly, just release it and let it scramble away. You’ll feel so much artistically lighter for releasing that burden, and that just gives your inspiration and impetus room to grow and get to work!

Perfectionism is more than a personal struggle — it’s a productivity tax, a creative block. What artist needs that?! And think about it this way: You have a lot of work inside of you, right? So many inspirations wanting to be made real! You literally don’t have the time waiting to be perfect then, do you? You have work to do that your pesky perfectionism is impeding! Bah! But the good news is this: You don’t need to be perfect to be a great artist! Heck, no artist is producing perfect work anyway. Welcome to the club. But what you do need to do is to just start and finish. That’s all. And you can break that perfectionist cycle of “I’m not good enough” or “this isn’t just-so yet” to get your piece all finished and gorgeous! It just takes a little paradigm shift and a bit of gumption to kick perfectionism out the door to give your art the energy and space it needs to flourish.

So it’s time. Time get up and walk out of that shiny prison of perfectionism because you can build something more beautifully meaningful. Truly, there’s no amount of dreaming about our perfect piece that’s going to beat creating it in real life, even if it doesn’t perfectly match. Having something tangible in your hands that’s never existed before is an exhilaration unlike any other! “Action speaks louder than words” it’s said, and this is absolutely true for arting. And keep this in mind, "Your greatness is revealed not by the lights that shine upon you, but by the light that shines within you," said Ray A. Davis. There ya go.

Above all, always remember that you’re already an artist, you’re already creative, you just have to tap into it. In other words, arting is for everyone! Creating art isn’t for the lucky few — it’s for you, too! It’s your heritage, your right, and your potential joy, so break free of that perfectionist cycle, move out of your paralysis, and jump into the glorious fray! Welcome!

“Perfectionism is a dream killer, because it’s just fear disguised as trying to do your best.”

— Mastin Kipp

Recommended reading:

NaMoPaiMo Is For Everyone

Releasing My Perfectionism

Busted

Let's Get Real: Just What Is Realism All About Anyway?

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 06 Jan 2026 20:50:00 +0000

Introduction

What is realism in regards to equine art? No, really — what is it? Define it. Like according to Dictionary.com, it’s defined as the “treatment of forms, colors, space, etc., in such a manner as to emphasize their correspondence to actuality or to ordinary visual experience.” Similarly, in Merriam-Webster online its “the showing of things as they really are in art, literature, and theater.”

But what the heck does that even mean? No seriously — break it down and what does “equine realism” actually mean? Be on target. Show your work.

It’s not as easy as you think, is it?

Well, at least it shouldn’t be. Because here’s the thing: If it did come easy, you might have to rethink equine realism.

Why is that? Because “equine realism” is an incredibly complicated issue. Indeed, I wrote a five-part series discussing just some of the factors at play, The Unreality Of Realism; Walking the Tightrope Between Fact and Fiction (hit "newer post" to go to the next Part). In it we consider many pieces from the vast collection at Brookgreen Gardens, a place famous for their realism-centric criteria for accepting pieces. That’s to say, they only focus on realistic sculpture — that’s their thing, their claim to fame.

But even then, there was an enormous variety of expression — so many various interpretations of reality — that it really stretched the issue of “what is realism” to a breaking point. Indeed, at Brookgreen we had centaurs, horses, winged horses, Unicorns all together, yet how is that realistic? But they were sculpted “realistically,” so that fit the criteria apparently. But even with the horses, a factual animal, the artistic styles exhibited within “realism” were staggering — yet it all worked! Because that’s the crux of it — even when the single criterion for selection is realism, the spectrum of expression was still wildly diversified.

So again — define realism.

Bet you can’t if you're trying to be really specific. Because if you know anything about realism at all, you realize it cannot be pigeon-holed so easily.

But “realistic” is such a buzzword isn’t it? Everyone and their dog and cat and parrot insist on it as though realism was some sort of unquestionable Truth. But it’s not. Not by a long shot. So why do we allow an ambiguity to be used as a bludgeon? Especially when it’s so evident that so many people who bonk others with it really don’t even know what they’re talking about?

Indeed, we often find the concept of “realism” weaponized, lobbed around like grenades to blow apart the work and reputation of artists unjustifiably. But misunderstanding the true scope of “realism” to then use it as a battering ram is literally like being a 3-year-old playing around with a loaded gun. It’s dangerous to our art form, dangerous to our artists, and well...it's definitely a dicey look. In other words, we’ve got to have a darned good handle on the fuller breadth of realism before we have any credibility to declare something as “more realistic” or “less realistic." When a concept has that much power, we’ve got to wield it responsibly.

So in an effort to illuminate just how convoluted realism actually is, let’s talk about this curious grail we all chase, and why we have to handle it like a live grenade. Caution with realism is just better for our art form and our long-term goals — and it’s the smart approach of anyone who truly understands just how tricky realism is to pin down with any modicum of sense. So let’s go!…

The Conundrum

I’ve said in the past that conformation is subjective while anatomy is objective, and I still stand by that. However, it should be noted that this was designed as an oversimplification to get a point across during a time when we were switching from BCC (breed type, conformation, and registry color) judging to ABC (anatomy, biomechanics, and color genetics) judging, and certain lines in the sand had to be drawn.

Because the issue is actually far more complicated.

You see, here’s the gist of it: Nothing "realistic" made by human hands is technically perfect, only Nature can create a perfectly structured horse, a truly realistic horse. It’s DNA or nothing. All we can ever do — no matter how skilled we actually are — is an approximation, a facsimile, an interpretation. That’s it, that’s all we can ever hope to achieve. So technical accuracy isn’t as objective as we may think it is — it’s not infallible, it’s not a given, it’s open to misinterpretations and blindspots, and it’s a function of artistic style all the same. Said another way, technical accuracy is just as subjective as conformation when you really come to understand it.

What's more, you can have some very anatomically savvy artists critique the same piece and chances are each will focus on different things either because of blindspots, knowledge gaps, biases, allowances, misinterpretations, knowledge strengths, or preferences. You see, even technicality has its foibles! And to add even more spice to the brew, I’ve seen so many pieces fatally flawed in anatomy earn massive kudos in the community while real masterpieces of accuracy meet with crickets. One begins to wonder just how many people in this genre have ever actually seen real horses! Which brings us to…

The Bias

Most people in equine collectibles have a shockingly conventional interpretation of technical accuracy. Saying it another way, they really don’t know about accuracy all too well, let alone all the oddities and nuances and momentary changes — though they certainly think they do — and so they default to the safest and most dumbed-down version of technicality, the most familiar milquetoast formula. Case in point, that whole “butt wrinkles” fiasco regarding the Breyer Hamilton. There was a perfectly accurate detail misinterpreted by a host of folks who simply had no clue about actual reality. Have they never actually seen a horse doing that kind of motion? One wonders. Another case in point: Fleshy texture. Horses aren’t mirror-smooth on their surface contours. That’s as much a contrived artistic stylization away from reality as tool marks. Why? Because when you get up close and really study the animal in person or more closely in photos and videos, you see all the fleshy details from wrinkles and crinkles, ripples, lumps and bumps, veins and capillaries, nerves and striations, etc. from hide, fascia, flesh, and moment. Indeed, put any horse in directional light and they’ll all pop out. Yet observe just how many people balk at these injections of actual reality as “unrealistic,” as "errors" in the finish. This is probably because most people have been conditioned by smooth-finished factory OFs such as Breyer and Stone to favor that polished surface. They don’t understand that this contrivance is simply to improve the look of the directionally-shaded airbrush paintjobs more than anything else. It’s a factor of production, not reality. This bias is so strong, in fact, that I’ve seen realistically textured ARs actually sanded smooth in order to achieve that “correct” mirror-smooth finish.

But these conventional biases are typical in our community, right down to the smallest nuances. If you sculpt actual reality, real living details, textures, and structure and movement or posture into your work then, be ready for the panicked and confused — and sometimes fiercely adamant — backlash. Isn’t it so strange that in an art form which asserts it’s constantly striving for realism that so many couldn't actually recognize reality if it licked them on the face?

And then we have those who know just enough to be problematic with their information, sounding like an authority to sway the perceptions of others yet never really grasping the deeper concepts, moments, or factualities. For instance, the “chaotic moment” is often a tripping point of these types as they simply cannot See the mercurial changes that happen such as momentary ripples, nostril distortion, expression, odd articulations, off-formula muscle configurations, etc. Quite simply, we’re dealing with a widespread Dunning Kruger Effect which can be an issue for an entire art form.

As such, when depictions of actual reality are produced, out of the woodwork come naysayers with no real clue blasting those pieces. “Our wretched species is so made that those who walk on the well-trodden path always throw stones at those who are showing a new road,” said Voltaire. Indeed. When we start pruning our progress for the sake of our misinformed biases, we’re in real trouble.

The Blindspots

To exacerbate matters, everyone has their blindspots and knowledge gaps that make for a morass of criticism or kudos that may or may not be warranted with any given piece, creating a host of conflicting expectations artists have to navigate. For instance, years ago my work was criticized heavily because it had “too much detail” like wrinkles, bumps, crinkles, capillaries, veins, morphing flesh, etc. Yet this is exactly the sort of thing I was seeing on the living animal in field study and in my plentiful library of references. It left me genuinely baffled — where people just not seeing the animal the way I was, or was I seeing the animal incorrectly? After I did more field study and re-hit my references, I deduced that — yes — I had it right and those in the community had it wrong. What a strange realization! Here I was being emphatically told to create more realistically then when I actually did, I met with strong resistance. There's that conventional thinking again.

And highly skilled artists are no different. Each artist has their own blindspots and knowledge gaps, biases and prejudices, all of which manifest in their artistic style and aesthetic. Then ping the blindspots and knowledge gaps of the collector base off all that, and well…it’s easy to see how it all spins into a crazy kaleidoscope of what’s lauded as “correct” or criticized as “wrong.” It can turn into a really confusing mess very quickly.

The Fads

As if all that wasn’t enough, we have all the fads and trends that pop up to skew things, sometimes correctly and sometimes unrealistically, sometimes momentary and sometimes permanently. For instance, a few decades ago, the demand for the ever-famous “tri-eye” was absolutely voracious to the point of it being a single deal-breaking aspect for many pieces. Yet was it more realistic? Not really. It was just a fad. For another example, some years ago a wildly streaky treatment of sabino patterns was massively popular. And while it strongly diverged away from actual realism, still the community embraced it quite enthusiastically. It even did quite well in the ring, placing over genuinely more realistic depictions. So what’s correct? Actual reality or what the community accepts as reality? The two are not the same!

The Facts

And still more complication, believe it or not we can’t trust those all-hallowed anatomy charts. Why? Well, I wrote a two-part blog post on exactly why, Now About Those Anatomy Charts Part I and Part II, which I recommend you read. Boiled down, however, it distills into four major problems with them. First, key features are stripped off to reveal the overly-emphasized musculature and bones. Things like hide, fat, fascia, and nerves and other fleshy tidbits are simply removed to reveal the muscles and bones beneath, but these removed things have a huge effect on the surface textures and subtle contours. For example, the torso's “fly shaker” muscle is regularly stripped away with the hide in dissection and so not shown on anatomy charts despite its very pronounced effect on the surface contours of the torso. Second, Nature is messy, really messy. The animal’s body is a mass of organic chaos. As such, an anatomy chart is simply an individual’s attempt to make sense of it, which is exactly why various charts differ. Nature is full of much more variation and chaos than a tidy chart, than any one person’s interpretation! Third, anatomy charts are created from dead horses. As such, all the morphing living flesh undergoes in the moment and with movement is simply absent but which is a huge consideration for sculpture. And fourth, an anatomy chart doesn’t convey nuance as everything is amplified the same. The horse’s body is an array of differently amplified anatomical features — they don’t appear with equal emphasis in life, plus emphasis changes with moment and motion. Besides, every horse’s body is individualistic, and different anatomy features will manifest differently between different horses. Truly, when you really look at a lot of horses, you realize just how individualistic they actually are not only in conformation, but also in anatomical expression.

So wrap it all up, and if we lean too much into our charts, we’re going to become exceedingly formulaic and conventional in how we convey anatomy — and, ironically, that’s not realistic. Equines don’t move like anatomy chart paper dolls. Absolutely, we cannot habitually “sculpt by numbers” but have to pay attention to the spectrum of possibility and the organic morphing that happens in real life, all things that no anatomy chart can actually convey. As such, charts and diagrams are best used as guides rather than gospel because "the living moment" offers up an enormous amount of information, possibility, exceptions, and oddities which either represents a wonderful exploratory challenge or an intimidating roadblock, depending on your attitude.

The Bubble

But to Big Picture it all, the essential problem is two-fold. First, people think technical accuracy in art is black n’ white — because they want it to be black n’ white — but the fact of the matter is, it’s a spectrum, or more accurately, like a bubble of what’s realistic. Why? Well, because remember, whatever equine realism we create will be technically flawed no matter how hard we try. Instead then, technical accuracy is messy, circumstantial, Sight-based, and founded on the “organic chaos” of the moment. For example, there isn’t one right way to sculpt hair, but many different styles will work equally well. Or there isn’t one right way to paint a chestnut, but many different expressions can get to the same destination. All we humans can do is to interpret reality, we can never actually recreate it — only DNA can do that. And so we have this bubble of what’s possible, a bubble with morphing borders as we push envelopes, but a bubble of what’s “realistic” all the same. We operate within an art form of moving goalposts.

And second, most people think they know enough of The Right Facts — but the problematic truth is they don’t. Not even halfway. You see, the topic of technical accuracy is so big, you have to constantly research, study, train, and observe to create a baseline then to expand into its edges. But even more, you must challenge your own biases and conventions, habits and formulas if you ever hope to get anywhere near accurate. But most people just don’t do this. They only go so far then stop, thinking they know enough to not only get by, but to pick the good pieces. Nope. Because if there was ever a topic in equine realism other than color genetics where this kind of thinking was dangerous, it would be anatomical accuracy. And it can be frustrating, exhausting, and confusing when too many entrench into their conventional thinking even further. Fear? Stubbornness? Indifference? Laziness? Whatever the reason, it's an on-going problem.

This brings us to our own special brand of realism in equine collectibles. Perhaps nowhere else is technical reality more expected, right down to the surface textures or hair-ticking, than in our art form. We cannot deny this, or ignore it. Like there were many pieces at Brookgreen that would've fit right into our genre, but also many that wouldn't have even though they were categorized as "realism." Things like tool marks, too much impressionism, artistic textures, or glossed over areas can disqualify a piece from success in our art form. Instead, we want a real horse shrunk down as accurately as possible, that's our claim to fame. But if we're paying attention, there's still that bubble of believability even in this hyper-focus all the same. For instance, simply study how hair is sculpted so differently between artists, yet it all works just fine. Or analyze how musculature and flesh are expressed differently, yet it all works nicely. Or pay attention to how different painters approach the same color with such variety of style, yet they're all quite effective. So even in our peculiar myopic focus, that bubble operates just the same, just tighter. So curious!

The Sight

Now one would think in lieu of all this that more education is the answer. And to a point, it is. It’s certainly helped over the decades, especially when we transitioned from BCC judging to ABC judging. But all the same, to a point, it isn’t. Why? Because advanced education is dependent on one thing full of nuance, complexity, and complication — Sight. This is the keener skill of perceiving, interpreting, and translating more actual reality into our clay or pigment that goes beyond formula, habit, bias, and convention to convey much more clinical exactness, momentary oddities, subtle nuances, and varied complexities. As such, Sight challenges and confronts, tearing through prejudices, biases, and conventional thought like paper, and presents reality as it more actually is, not what we want it to be — because the two are not the same. And wow, does this upset some folks! And it’s unclear if it upsets them because it makes them confront their willful conventions, or forces them to give up their preferred stylistic biases and safe zones, or whether it actually does scare them because they believe the art form is advancing beyond their ability to comprehend it. Maybe all three?

Whatever the cause, it prevents a whole lotta people from furthering their own pro-active education and training, and so we get stuck right back in the same place we’ve always been stuck — in our stylistic conventions. All this can keep the unwary artist on artistic plateaus, the unaware collector entrenched in skewed biases, and the unsuspecting art form from actually progressing along more realistic pathways.

The Tentative Step

So getting back to the definition — it’s a lot harder to do than first thought, isn’t it? Yup. As counterintuitive as it seems, the more ambiguous we make it, the more it sticks, it’s just that big an issue. So as a thought experiment, try this definition on for size:

Equine realism is the accurate technical depiction of the colors, effects, and patterns, and the momentary biological manifestations of the structures, movements, textures, details, and contours found in the genus Equus.

Does it work? Does it fail? How so? Why? These are important considerations to ponder because it all speaks to the heart of the matter, doesn’t it? And we need to better hammer things out if only to pave the way for more realism in our genre. We need to make room for the oddities, the momentary changes, the extra touches that speak to actual realism without them being disparaged and discouraged. If there’s one thing this genre does well, it’s advance, but right now that advancement is being impeded by confining conventions and biases when it comes to genuine accuracy, and we need to address that head-on.

The Job

But even so, all said and done, it’s also true we can get more technically accurate in our work, right? It’s called “improvement.” And we all know that some artists are more skilled at capturing more technical precision than others, too. It’s why their work looks “more realistic.” So there is some degree of measurable objectivity here. Indeed, study, observation, training — it all has a net effect on making our work more technically faithful. Like, we learn where the tuberocities are supposed to go, where the muscle groups are located and how they’re configured and how they change, how the joints articulate and when and why, how the skull is constructed, and so on. Or more specifically, a sculpted hock looks more like a real hock the more technically faithful it is while a sabino pattern looks more like a real sabino pattern the more authentically rendered it is. In short, they don’t just “look right” — they are more right.

Conclusion

As it may be clearly evident now, “realism” isn’t as black and white as we may have originally thought. So what’s the point of all this? Well, it’s to use the term “not realistic” very carefully. Painfully carefully. Be judicious and skeptical of your own judgments. Like are you sure you know what’s more realistic, or is your Eye missing key components? Are you sure you’re actively flushing out your blindspots through training, exercises, and study? Or are you simply relying on “I know enough”?

Now it’s okay to like what you like. Of course, that’s okay! That’s actually quite good for our art form, too! Different strokes for different folks keeps our arts base vibrant and diversified. But the thing is, when you lob the grenade of “not realistic,” be sure you know exactly what you’re talking about. Make sure you can objectively defend your statement with evidence. Show your work. Can you back up your claim with actual proof? Or does it just “look wrong” to you and you can’t go farther than that? Because if you just chuck that “not realistic” grenade willy-nilly, not only can you do a great deal of unfair harm, if enough people do it, it can actually steer our arts right into a ditch. It almost did with “butt wrinkles.”

So artists, this is also a call to exercise the same judicious behavior in your own work to really get to the heart of what’s “realistic.” Don’t rely on “it just looks right to me” — is it actually right? Can you compare your body portions to actual referenced photos and do they look more objectively similar? Even actually the same? Can one be confused for the other? That’s the level you want to be at, and that takes exercises, training, discipline, and gumption. Remember, there’s a big difference between fudging what you don’t know well enough and fudging what you know really well.

And as a community, we’ve got to do better by “realism.” We’ve got to continue to educate ourselves on the ABCs and not lean so heavily still on the BCCs. Conformation is an easy topic — anyone can learn it and apply it with relative ease. But anatomy (and color genetics) is another matter all together, but one that will increasingly be necessary as artists continue to push those boundaries past collective convention and half-formed expectations. The community simply must keep up and come to embrace the larger reality of equine realism.

So let’s get real about equine realism — we’ve got to be more careful with this accusation of “less realistic” or “wrong.” “There are more things in heaven and hell, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” wrote Shakespeare in Hamlet. Absolutely spot on, especially when it comes to equine realism. Indeed, Nature is full of curveballs, always unexpected and always surprising. So right when we get comfortable with what we think of as “right,” or “I’ve figured this out,” or “I see the pattern now,” along comes Nature to throw all that into the blender and now we have a new fascinating pathway of investigation to follow.

So follow it.

Adopt the mantle of an educational explorer and seek out those curiosities of equine structure, color, movement, and moment that flavor equine realism in deeper and more complete ways. Bust beyond formula, habit, convention, or bias, and strive to See beyond the obvious, and especially the accepted and expected. And above all, come to a broader understanding of just what equine realism really is — a vast array of possibility and moment all amalgamated together into a brilliant bubble of potential. Getting real about realism means we no longer see a fixed chart, we no longer “sculpt by numbers,” and we have no real need of comfort zones — we want the real thing, the real deal, and we’re bold enough to reveal it authentically.

"True realism consists in revealing the surprising things which habit keeps covered and prevents us from seeing."

— Jean Cocteau

Special Effects: How to Create Tricky Aspects of Horse Color for Beginners Part VI

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Wed, 17 Dec 2025 07:05:00 +0000

Introduction to Part VI

We’re back, but this time with the final part of this six-part painting series for beginners. We’ve discussed a lot of topics, haven’t we? Phew! There’s a lot to account for when painting, so be methodical and careful to not forget anything. Like sometimes, painters forget to paint the chestnuts or the bottoms of the feet—don’t do that! Take your time. Besides, savor the painting experience as part of the creative journey rather than rushing through it like a crazy person. Now granted, finishing up is an incredible feeling, isn’t it? The destination is just as important as the journey! But that destination is only as satisfying as completely savoring your journey—so tread mindfully. (Recommended reading: Journation: A Symbiosis For Growth and Wabi-Sabi: Strange Bedfellows)

To that end, we now come to those aspects of painting that will certainly try our patience because they are laborious, tedious, and sometimes maddening. But muscle through them—you got this! In fact, find meditation in these phases because they can truly be so relaxing for the brain if we frame it that way. Because every painter has an aspect of painting they just don’t look forward to. For some, it’s painting eyes or hooves, for others, it’s painting manes and tails, and for many, painting dapples is a real trail. So don’t be surprised if there’s some aspect of painting you dread—we all have our own sword of Damocles hanging over us. Just do your best and gut it out because there will be an end to it when you're done. So in that spirit, let’s wrap things up, shall we? Let’s go!…

Painting Ticking

Ticking. Tick tick ticking. Blorg. If we had a dollar for every ticking tick we ever ticked, we could pay off our mortgages, right? Uffdah. But tick we must because it’s relatively common in horse color in various forms from sabino patterns to dapple greys to roans to fleabiting to even certain mapping techniques. But the good news is this: You already know how to do this now. Simply use the techniques for mapping or painting fuzzy ears, just make it a quick, short, tiny stroke in the direction of the hair growth. And then do that about a bajillion times and done! See, simple. Just be sure the paint consistency is sufficient to create an opaque stroke because you don’t want unevenness to force you to do it again which would only enlarge the tick. Usually a 2% milk consistency with dipping and dabbing is sufficient, but practice to develop a feel for it. Extra points: Notice that not all ticking is the same intensity so vary the brightness of your ticking as your reference warrants.

However, there are two big things to remember when it comes to ticking that are far from simple: Scale and regimentation. If you don’t have those under control, your ticking will be problematic. So let’s talk about them.

Let’s start with scale. Now consider this—just how small would a single hair have to be on our 1:9 or “traditional” scale models? Absolutely tiny, right? So tiny that even laser etching couldn’t get that small. Instead then, we have to think in terms of clumps of hair, colored or white, so when we study ticking at our scale, we’re really studying groups of hair, not single hairs. Because if you look at a roan up close, for instance, you really aren’t seeing an intermixture of single white and dark hairs, you’re seeing an intermixture of small clumps of white and dark hairs. That may not seem like such a big deal, but it actually is. You see, tiny clumps of hair behave a little bit differently than single hairs and therefore look differently. How so? Well, if we were talking about an intermixture of single hairs, the coat would have a more monochromatic, even coloring, wouldn’t it? Things would be more “evenly spaced” in a sense. However, it’s the clumping of hair that creates the grainy effect so characteristic of composite coats and that grainy effect is really important to mimic with our ticking, not a hair-by-hair look. In this, the clumps are randomized and irregular and capturing that organic quality to them is key (which we’ll get to in a moment). So let’s not think in terms of single hairs, let’s think in terms of little clumps of hairs. Now we can properly address scale. On a 1:9 scale piece then, that little clump of hair would still be frightfully tiny, wouldn’t it? So tiny that we have to keep the flicks of our brush very short and very very skinny. Very very short and very very very skinny. And that’s a lot to ask of the human brain. Why?

Because now let’s talk about regimentation. It could be easily argued that the human brain is really just a highly sophisticated pattern recognition machine. Because when you break it all down, pretty much everything in life is simply a manifestation of a pattern of some kind, and our brain is acutely keyed into that. In fact, it loves patterns so much, it’ll just make them up where none exist which is where we get our superstitions, gambling addictions, logic fallacies, and conspiracy theories, for instance. And it does this so quickly and convincingly, and right under our radar, that we can come to believe in a fictional pattern just as much as a factual pattern. So what does this mean for our art? Well, it means that our brain will cause regimentation in an effect that’s supposed to be random, it’ll introduce order into what’s supposed to have “organic chaos” — automatically and very quickly and right under our noses. If we don’t work against it then, those effects that are typified by randomness will be too orderly like dappling, ticking, patterning, or roaning. Making matters worse, the more we “zone out” while we’re creating these things—as what tends to happen with tedium—our pattern recognition really goes bananas, taking over completely very quickly. And even worse—yes, it gets worse—it also tends to scale things up, enlarging things arbitrarily as you go. Indeed, sometimes you can even tell exactly where an artist started to lean too heavily on their pattern recognition on a piece simply by how one area became too big for scale.

So how do we counteract the problem of scale and regimentation when so much is working against us? Well, we become aware of the problem, that’s the first step. So—step one, check. Then we actively think about what we’re doing when we’re doing it and not zone out. This does take a lot of concentration though, making our art not only very challenging, but exhausting, too. Indeed, it takes a lot of mental work to make things truly tiny enough! With every tick tick tick, you have to be really paying attention and work against your own brain. Oof! Equine realism isn’t for the faint of heart! To that end, it’s a good idea to take lots of breaks while ticking to combat the habit our hand will fall into and to give ourselves a mental breather. And another handy trick is to shrink down your reference to the scale you’re working on for a one-to-one guide. It can be quite surprising! And another trick is to paint upside down periodically to break up the pattern your brain assumes. Creating in an unfamiliar way forces the issue and you’re asked to better think about what you’re doing than allowing your brain to simply go on autopilot.

As for what brush to use, use any size brush—yes, any size—given it has the best, teenest pointed tip and longish bristles to hold a good well of paint so you don’t have to redip a thousand and one times, you can just keep tick tick ticking. So when you find a really good ticking brush, buy multiples as back ups. Seriously. A great ticking brush is hard to find and, trust me, you’ll want more than one over time because they do wear out. And take great care of your ticking brush. Like make sure it’s super clean before you put it away (make sure any paint is out of the ferule where it’ll dry and spread apart the bristles, destroying the brush's point), let it dry out on its side and store it handle-side down, don’t use it for mixing paint up, and don’t use it for anything else. A great ticking brush is literally one of your most precious tools.

There are five things to avoid with ticking. First, of course, don’t tick out of scale. Keep things as teensy as you possibly can get. Second, avoid regimentation by striving for “organic chaos,” that “grown,” randomized look. That’ll take focus and mental work, but you got this! Third, don’t create splotchy, blobby ticks. Keep your ticking streaky and neat, so have a steady hand. Practice on a junker first, a lot. Fourth, don’t create bald spots in your ticks by using the correct consistency of paint. You want those ticks completely opaque on the first pass for speed, scale, and randomness, so it does have a Goldilocks Zone. Fifth, don’t create a truly randomized mess. For instance, tick in the direction of the hair growth patterns to stay on target and lean into your references. And sixth, to avoid causing a problem on your model, do a lot of prior practice on a junker to get a feel for all this, especially for the paint consistency.

Painting Manes and Tails

When we shifted from hair manes and tails to sculpted manes and tails, we also had to learn how to paint them effectively. However, painting hair is perhaps one of the toughest things to do. Why? Well, for similar reasons as for ticking in terms of scale and regimentation, but also because hair is just that hard to convey in pigment. Now there are three basic ways to paint hair as per your preference. One, you can drybrush the colors in, mostly on the “tops” of the sculpted ridges of the hair. And for another, you can streak in the colors with a brush, creating flowing lines in the direction of the hair flow. And finally, you can apply both methods.

So let’s talk about drybrushing first. In this, you use unthinned paint and a soft, short brush to rub in the pigment, having very little pigment on the brush itself. So you essentially “burnish” the paint into the area, rubbing it on there to deposit the paint. So how do we do this for a mane and tail? Well, consider this method:

Paint the mane and tail all one color, usually the darkest color indicated by your reference. This will be the shadings so don’t be timid with its tone. And you can vary the tones of these shadings within the mane or tail in this first coat as well for some variation in your final product.
Now drybrush on the lighter tones indicated by your reference, onto the protruding ridges of the sculpting.
Extra points: Vary the tones to better match any variegation in your reference.

Now for brushing on streaks. This has become a very popular method nowadays because it’s been refined to a wonderful sophistication with beautiful results. Just expect to practice at it a lot to perfect, but you can do it! So in this, the brush you use is critical—use one with a great tip but with long bristles, like a line-painting brush nail artists use, so you can make a long, continuous line without having to redip into your paint to continue. That’s critical because you won’t have a broken line which leads to messiness and distracting errors. So to do this technique, think about this process:

Paint your mane and tail in the darkest shade indicated by your reference.
Thin your mixed paint colors to about the consistency of 2% milk then take your brush and, in the direction of the hair flow, brush on a line of pigment from the root to the tip, being careful not to obliterate the dark shadings in the deepest crevices.
Keep those streaks in scale for the most convincing result.
Repeat with all your colors until you’re happy with it, and do any clean up as necessary. You might even have to do some clean up on body if your streak went off the mane, which can happen sometimes.
If you wish, you can use a drying retardant to maybe blend some areas if you want more softness.
Extra points: Make the ending tail pointed, not blunt.

There are five things to avoid with either method. First, avoid oversimplification. Variegation is really quite complex and multi-layered, so your colors or streaking will have to be similarly so to best mimic this effect. Second, avoid messiness and a careless hand. Painting the mane and tail requires a steady hand and absolute tidiness—your painting should be clear and confident. It simply comes across better the more clear your painting. Third, don’t leave a border of dark pigment around the perimeter of your mane or the dock of your tail. Get that drybrushing or streaking right up to the edge so your variegation isn’t “outlined” by dark color. Fourth, don’t go off-tone. It’s easy to get caught up in the coloring of the mane and tail—they’re fun to paint! So really lean into your reference to stay accurate. And fifth, avoid bald spots in the drybrushing or the streaking by maintaining the correct consistency of the paint. In this, make sure you’re painting in such a way that the end result is truly opaque on the first pass so you don’t have to go over that portion twice. This will ensure that the end result is tidy and clear in execution.

Painting White Markings

This aspect of painting is often the bane of any painter’s existence. Why? Because it’s incredibly tedious and very fussy. But one big way we can really help ourselves is using a white paint that’s naturally powerfully opaque such as Golden Fluid Acrylics Titanium White. This stuff is fantastic because it’s nearly opaque in the first pass even thinned down, greatly reducing the number of passes we’ll have to do. And that’s the name of the game: Complete your white markings with the least amount of passes. Why? Because it’s easier and faster for one. For another, it reduces the error inevitably introduced with so many passes. And for another, it reduces the potential for a ridge of paint to form along the perimeter from all those layers, keeping the white paint completely flush with the surface, which is what we want. And lastly, the less passes we do, the less chance there is for the introduction of dreaded brushstrokes. Because you don’t want brushstrokes in your white markings. You want that marking to be perfectly smooth and consistent with the rest of the paintjob's surface.

Another way we can help ourselves is thinning our paint to the correct consistency, about that of skim milk. You want the paint to have decent coverage, but mostly to also “melt” into surface to smooth out, too. So there’s definitely a Goldilocks Zone here. For that then, play around with markings on a junker to learn the feel of it, because it’s definitely “go by feel.”

Now some artists mix in white gesso into their white paint in a 50/50 ratio to increase coverage and so reduce the passes required, and this does work great! However, this is a bit more advanced as you have to be quick. You can’t be fussy if gesso is in the mix because it “disturbs” quickly, leaving brushstrokes and ripples or puddles if you fuss with it too long or your consistency is just a little bit off. You literally have to swipe and move on quickly so everything melts together. But try it to see if if works for you. In fact, some artists even lay down the first couple of layers in pure gesso, then that last couple of layers in white paint, which also works well. So try that method, too. Liquitex white gesso works well, for example, for either approach.

And the last way we can help ourselves is using the right brushes: Soft, quality brushes in rounds and filberts up to size 6 with a good point and long bristles to hold a good, but controllable well of paint. Natural brushes hold paint better than artificial brushes, but the latter can be softer, so go to an art store to pick out those you believe are softest. Why so soft? To avoid brushstrokes, those dang brushstrokes! So take good care of your “whiting” brushes because if they’re abused, they’ll get messed up and become imprecise, rough, and useless. So make sure they’re truly clean when you’re done, store them handle side down, don’t use them for anything other that white markings, and don’t use them to mix paint. And when you find a good whiting brush, buy multiples because like your ticking brush, they’re actually not too easy to find.

Extra points: Mute your whites with greiges or Burnt Umber so your whites are softer and more life-like. This also gives you "somewhere to go" when highlighting them like in manes, tails, feathers, and on the face, even the body.

Extra extra points: Increase the realism of your white markings by adding flesh-toned “pinking” nicely subtle, soft, and blended in, such as on the muzzle, elbow, flank, groin, between the lateral cartilages of the foot, and maybe the tendon grooves on the lower legs.

There are six things to avoid with white markings. First, and most obviously, avoid brushstrokes at all costs. If that means you have to thin the paint down more and make more passes, that’s what you have to do. Ugh—I know. Second, don’t allow creep to ruin your paint job. Keep that white edge clean and controlled so any messiness or carelessness doesn’t necessitate you having to enlarge the white marking to cover up an oopsie. Stay clean and precise with each pass. Third, avoid ridges and ripples along the edges of the white. If this happens, it means your paint is too thick. Fourth, keep your whites clean clean clean! No debris, no hair, no fingerprints, no lint, no smudges…nada in that white paint. It must be absolutely pristine. Fifth, avoid a granular texture in the paint. This can sometimes happen when mixing in gesso as the gesso dries pretty quickly, or isn’t ground up as fine as the white paint. You want your whites to be absolutely mirror smooth. And sixth, avoid drips and pooling in the white areas. If this happens, your paint is too thin.

Painting Dapples

Dappling is another bane of a painter’s existence because they, too, are fussy and tedious. But unlike white markings, they’re also very complicated to paint, making them a rather more advanced painting technique. But what the heck right? We can still talk about some baseline concepts to get you off on the right track. Plus, if you spin them the right way, they’re actually pretty fun to paint. To see your vision realized like that right before your eyes is pretty cool! So find the fun in it, the meditation, and you’ll nail it while joyfully creating at the same time! (Recommended reading: The Dapple Dilemma: Different Strokes for Different Coats, and Dazzled By Dapples Part I and Part II)

For starters, like ticking, watch for scale and regimentation lurking on the periphery for your dappling. You want to avoid problems with them just as much here, too. What’s more, avoid the same size, shape, spacing, and intensity trap, which is a form of regimentation unique to dappling so be vigilant and attentive. Every dapple is unique like a snowflake, so approach each one from that angle and you’ll nail it. However, that said, despite its seeming chaos, also notice that dappling is a pattern just like a pinto or appaloosa pattern—it has its characteristics. Now that said, notice too that each color has its own dappling pattern you have to be sensitive to as well. Now this isn’t to say that each one has a set pattern per se, but more of a bubble of telltale characteristics so look for them in your references. For example, you cannot apply a dapple grey pattern to a silver dapple and call it a silver dapple. Silver has its own dappling pattern, as does sooty, bloom/condition, grey, roan, reverse, clipper, seasonal, pangaré/transition, and dun. This is why it’s smart to do dappling work directly from a very good reference, ideally of both sides. However, you can always flip your reference for the other side if you’re missing that second view, and fudge things a little bit.

Tips for painting a dappled coat:

Shrink your reference(s) to the size you’re painting for a direct one-to-one comparison. It can be quite surprising.
Take breaks, just like with ticking and for the same reasons.
Do your dappling work painting upside down or sideways. This helps to break up your brain’s pattern recognition response assumptions and you’ll end up creating a more truthful result. It’ll feel awkward, but try it.
Take your references and run them through a photo editing program to turn them into greyscale, or black and white. That helps to reveal the pattern. Likewise, an even more powerful trick is to run them through the “invert” option which will switch the darks and lights in the image, really making the pattern pop forwards for you.
Regularly inspect your paintjob “backwards” in a hand mirror to check your work for scale and regimentation or any awkward areas.
Snap a photo of your work in progress and compare that image to your references. The objectifying lens of the camera can reveal a lot.
When evaluating your work, squint your eyes at times between your paintjob and your reference. This will generalize things better, helping you to pick out problem areas you didn’t See before.
Try not to paint in your dappling as the last thing, but along with the coat color. This will help them “sit back” into the coat rather than look “painted on top.” You want your dapples to look like part of the coat, not an afterthought.
Try to envision not only the lighter spots of the dapples, but also their dark networks around them, if present (or in the case of roan, the frosty lighter network). Note whether the edges of those dark networks diffuse out into the coat or end abruptly like a broken honeycomb because that’s part of the pattern’s characteristics of that color or individual you need to pay attention to.
Try to keep the perimeter of the dapples diffused rather than sharp and abrupt. This will help them look like they’re grown from the coat rather than “painted on top.”
When searching for references, don’t forget about front views and back views, if you can find them. Even better are belly shots and above-the-back shots, even under the jaw shots and ear shots. These more esoteric ones can be found in unexpected ways like with rolling, rearing, or jumping horses or grazing shots and whatnot. Point is, stay open to where to find your references. The best ones often don’t come from obvious sources.

Now as for actually painting dapples, there are many different methods for that so experiment to find the one that works best for you and your media. For example, you can airbrush them on if you have that capability. Or you can paint them on such as with oils. You can draw them on as with pastel pencils or color pencils. Or, lastly, you can paint them on (with drying retardant) or drybrush them in with acrylics. It’s your choice. The actual how-to for each one lies beyond the scope of this series, but suffice to say, this is a great opportunity to take classes or learn from online videos and, above all, experiment with techniques and media.

There are seven things to avoid when dappling a coat color. First, and this is really important, avoid veering out of scale. Count dapples on your reference across a region to get a better idea of sizing if you have to, it’s that important. Second, at all costs, avoid regimentation of any kind. This is critical. Your dappled paintjob should look like “ordered chaos,” which is characteristic of every dappled coat. In this, it’s ordered because of its overarching pattern, but it’s chaotic in that it’s randomized by the genetic “luck of the draw.” That’s one of the reasons why dappled coats are so darned tricky to mimic—they’re two opposites that have to marry together. But you can do it! Third, avoid bald spots in your dapples, "donut dapples," so they give themselves away as painted rather than grown. Each dapple should be opaque and solid and non-patchy so it looks like it really belongs there. On that note, four, avoid “braille” dapples of raised paint. Your dappling should be flush with the surface to melt into the rest of the paintjob seamlessly. Fifth, don’t apply too much artistic license. Stick to the pattern in your reference as religiously as you feasibly can and trust the process. Sixth, don’t apply too much muscling shading and highlighting with a dapple grey or often a sooty dapple because this can confuse the look of their patterns. Just paint the pattern. As you become more advanced, you can play with shading a highlight a little bit, but truth be told, dapple coats tend to read better with a minimal treatment of these touches And seventh, ideally your reference exhibits the dappling pattern of the breed you’re painting as some breeds can be predisposed to a certain set of characteristics not really found so much in other breeds. For instance, the silver dappling pattern on Shetlands is kinda its own thing as compared to that on Rocky Mountain Horses which looks a little bit different. So just be sensitive to breed influences on the patterns as well so you place the right one on your sculpture.

Painting With An Integrated Palette

At some point, you’re going to want to integrate other colors into your palette to open up the possibilities more. You’ll simply gain access to a lot more horse colors that way, and no other way. Now you’ll need to know color theory and how to use the color wheel, but it’s all very learnable and fun to boot! But the point is, there will come a time when you’ll be inspired to rethink color.

For instance, take Raw Umber. This is a not-red brown, a very “cool” brown (as opposed to Burnt Umber which is a very “warm” brown). Some people would say it leans green, but no—it’s simply not-red. Yet it’s easy to understand how someone from our genre would interpret a not-red as greenish. Why? Because our art form has a very heavy red bias and a very strong not-red prejudice when it comes to browns, blacks, yellows, and neutrals. Indeed, overall, there’s a strong undercurrent against cool colors and a very strong weight on warm colors. Maybe it’s because we key in on horse colors, yet the fact remains: Many horse colors are cool, not-red based, are Raw Umber based. Take many silvers, grullas, chestnuts, even some roans and duns lean that way. So if nature doesn’t care about warm or cool colors—neither should we. Really, as a realistic artist, we need to remain open to all of Nature’s options, don’t we? And hey, it’s just more fun that way! So reconsider Raw Umber in your repertoire. It’s an incredible color and remarkably versatile and wholly applicable to what we do. Same with all the other "cool" colors that can become very handy partners on our palette.

Or think about integrating oranges, yellows, reds, purples, greens, and blues into your repertoire, too. Yes—those actual colors. Sure, they aren’t horse colors per se, but with color theory, they really are! Like when you mix together yellow and purple, you come up with some really fascinating browns that have a whole range of applications, browns you can’t get any other way. Or mix a blue with Red Oxide or Burnt Sienna and you get these truly gorgeous dark browns that add so much punch and character to a paintjob.

Or say you want to brighten Burnt Umber or Burnt Sienna—how would you do it? With white? But that simply yields a pinkish tan or a fleshy pink, respectively. What’s the solution? Yellows, oranges, and reds to the rescue, that’s what! Brighten your browns and rusts with these colors rather than white and you’ll find that your paintjobs will glow and “pop” much more beautifully.

So think again about what colors to incorporate into your palette as you advance. Being dependent on pre-mixed “horsey hues” is okay and all, but if you’re curious about more, these non-horsey colors offer more interesting options. So why hold back? A whole new world of color waits for you when you’re ready! (Recommended Reading: Fire and Ice: The Power of a Warm and Cool Palette, Pop n’ Glow: Waking Up Your Palette With Color, A Cacophony of Color: The Magic of Unlikely Pigments and Black Magic: A Versatile Powerhouse)

Conclusion

You did it! You finished this six-part series in style, hopefully deriving some useful tidbits along the way. Because, indeedy, painting these tricky effects can be really challenging for a beginner yet with practice practice practice, it will all get easier. So just keep at it! And have some junker models on hand to do some practicing so you develop a real feel for all the different techniques and effects. Really, so much of what we do is by feel, so keep that in mind.

Now there are five big takeaways from all this. First, always have a steady hand that produces great precision with no messiness or confused effects. Absolute precision is your best friend with any paintjob. Second, stay mindful to the tones of your effects as the hue of your pigment can greatly impact the overall impression. Third, always—always—work from good reference photos. A great reference is a tremendous guide so study it closely and follow it faithfully. Fourth, and here’s the fun part, get out there and do lots of field study, get up and close with the real deal. So visit stables and go to shows to see these effects in person. Take a camera, too, to snap your own references. Fifth, know when to call done. This is just as important as starting, calling done. We cannot spin our wheels forever, trapped in a perfectionist trap. Honestly, it’s so important to say “done,” and move onto the next piece’s lessons as a regular habit. Now this doesn’t mean you don’t work hard, of course you do. But you don’t go chasing after windmills like Don Quixote, either. Know when to move on. And sixth, build on these techniques and ideas in your own way, make them yours with your own unique vision. Like, if you discover a different way that works for you better, rock on! So don't be afraid to explore and develop your own methods, that's part of the fun! (Recommended reading: Finally Finito: When To Call Done, and Wabi-Sabi And Realism: Strange Bedfellows, and The Perfectionist Paradox)

Overall, and this is a biggie, don’t get discouraged. We all start out struggling with these things, too. And sometimes we still do. Really, these effects aren’t easy for any artist no matter their skill level and experience so just keep at it. To that end, stay open to new media or techniques. Often times, simply switching to another media can hold the key to a much better or easier result. For instance, if you’re having a hard time with brushed-on acrylic or oil paint, switch to pastel pencils or color pencils instead. So experiment with different media to find those that work best for you.

On that note, never forget this: Mistakes are an inevitability with all art work. We all make corrections along the way! But hey…you painted that piece so you can fix it, right? You’re the creator here! Whatever you make, you can un-make and remake to your liking. Most anything can be backtracked and fixed. So don’t be so afraid…dive in and have fun and fix things along the way. That’s what even the most experienced artists do! And never forget that mistakes are actually your conduit for learning. Indeed, every mistake is a learning opportunity so don’t overlook what they offer when they happen.

So practice, use good references, find media you like, and apply a precise hand and you, too, can create an array of cool effects no matter how tricky they seem to be! Before you know it, you’ll be whipping them out with much more confidence and authenticity, wowing us with your progress! Truly, we can’t wait to see how truly special your effects are!

“Whether you succeed or not is irrelevant, there is no such thing. Making your unknown known is the important thing.”

– Georgia O’Keeffe

Special Effects: How to Create Tricky Aspects of Horse Color for Beginners Part V

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 14 Dec 2025 04:33:00 +0000

Introduction to Part V

Welcome back to this six-part series about painting tricky effects on horses, for beginners. Painting realistic horses is indeed tricky business. There’s just so much to account for and consider and weigh because it’s not just about painting what’s there, it’s mostly about painting what’s there effectively and in a flattering way, and that’s a whole ‘nuther order of considerations. Because one of the painter’s big jobs is to paint in a way that flatters the sculpture, to not fight the sculpture. Now granted, that’s a very subjective idea because what appears flattering to you may not to someone else, and that’s okay. Everyone has their tastes. But the point is, paint in a way that makes you comfortable with the overall result from an aesthetic perspective, not just a realistic perspective. Remember, you have to first like your own work! To that end, follow your gut. Not your heart, not your brain—your gut. Unlike your heart and brain, your gut will never steer you off course and into the weeds. So if something is bugging you in your gut—change it. If your piece reads beautifully in your gut—you nailed it!

But that said, it’s okay to let things go and move on. Because the trick to really improving is volume, simply painting a lot of sculptures. Numbers count! So try not to spin your wheels too much with a single piece. Know when to call done and move on to the new lessons the next piece has to offer. “Every horse is practice for the next,” wisely says Ed Gonzales, and he’s absolutely right.

On that note, don’t be so hard on yourself. You will make mistakes—we all do, even the most experienced among us. In fact, mistakes are your fastest conduit to improvement because each one holds an important lesson. Indeed, those who make the most mistakes and learn from them are the fastest to improve! So don’t be afraid of making a mistake…just surge forwards and fix them along the way. No big whoop. You’re the creator here, remember—you can redo anything you create!

That in mind, take risks. Try to avoid the safe route and veer from convention. See, the thing is, convention is riddled with errors, oversimplifications, and misconceptions as it often leans away from reality in favor of those things that are more dumbed-down and safe. Be a rebel! Dive into reality head first and worry about the rest later. If you See something in your references color-wise that goes against conventional painting? Then by all means, paint it. Hoof painting is a classic example here. For years conventional thinking had us painting the tops of the hooves pale and the bottoms dark, but the fact is Nature offers up so many more options. So explore them! Be bold and fearless! And hey—work from references and you’ll always have those to lean on, so go for it! (Recommended reading: The free PDFs, Painting Conventions: Fact or Fantasy? Part I and Part II.)

So with all this under our belt, let’s continue our exploratory adventures into painting realistic equines for beginners! Let’s careen in!…

Painting Chestnuts and Ergots

Chestnuts are those knobs of calloused flesh on the inside of the legs, on the forelegs above the knee and on the hindlegs between the point of hock and the cannon. Ergots are similar structures but on the backs of the fetlocks. It’s believed the chestnuts are the remnants of the proximal metacarpal and wrist pads and the ergots are the remnants of the distal metacarpal pads when the horse had multi-digit feet in evolutionary history. Now many sculptures lack ergots, a bit of a sculptural oversight so what you can do is just paint on a little dot where the ergot would have been and call it a day. It works. (It’s not recommended to sculpt ergots in if they’re missing as that’s altering a resin or custom which can be a no-no with a sculpting artist’s reserved rights.)

Now the thing to keep in mind is that both chestnuts and ergots are calloused flesh so they’re textured and colored that way. If you study them in references then you’ll see that they have a greige-ish coloration and are crumbly and calloused. If they aren’t trimmed, they can protrude quite a bit, too, until they naturally break off. However, some grooming trends peel them off almost flush with the skin and oil them, making them more flat and darkened, so look for that in your references.

So to paint them, think about this process:

Use a small round with a good point.
Paint the entire chestnut a dark tan. You can use Titanium White, Raw Umber or Burnt Umber, and a black of your choice to make this color.
Take that mix and add more white to make a light tan color and use that to dot on tiny specks to create calloused highlights.
Keep in mind that chestnuts on dark skin are tan-ish whereas sometimes they’re dark flesh on unpigmented skin. So look for those color differences in your references.
Extra points: Texturize the chestnuts with your paint if possible. Ideally, they were sculpted texturized, but they often aren’t.
For ergots, apply the same pigment ideas, only just boop a little circle of paint on the back of the fetlock where the ergot should go.

There are two things you want to avoid when painting chestnuts and ergots. First, don’t create a messy result. Have a steady hand so that callous color is exactly on the chestnut or ergot and not blooping into the leg. Precision is key! And second, keep the chestnut speckles tiny and not big dots. Keep scale in mind.

Painting the Palmar Foot

The palmar foot—or the bottom of the foot—needs to be painted too if it’s sculpted in. If not sculpted in though, you can still paint it in to create that illusion if you wish. So grab some good references of the palmar foot of quality feet, and study them. Note their textures and any discolorations as those are important details. But what exactly are you looking at? Well, the palmar foot is characterized by seven basic structures:

The frog: That large triangular, calloused structure that’s so obvious on the bottom of the foot.
The bars: The walls invert and thicken to run along each side of the frog, becoming the bars.
The collateral grooves: Between the bars and the frog are the deep collateral grooves.
The sole: The expanse of the palmar foot of calloused tissue.
The white line: While whitish when clean, it turns tan or dark brown with dirt and with wear, becomes more of a slight groove around the perimeter of the hoof wall, the bars, and almost to the apex of the frog. This is the connection zone between the hoof wall and the sole.
The water line: The unpigmented inner hoof wall that shows up as a pale line around the perimeter of the hoof. However, scale often compels us to omit painting this, and that’s okay. Many times, it’s simply implied.
The hoof wall: The distal edge of the hoof wall.

So to actually paint the palmar foot, consider this progression:

Grab your small round with a good point and longer bristles for a decent well of paint.
A handy brush to also use for this is a small beaten up stencil brush for stippling. You can also use a beaten up normal brush if you don’t have a stencil brush. You just want a small brush that’ll create a speckled effect when tapped onto the surface.
Mix up various greys, tans, greiges, and even greens if you wish to denote grass staining or manure. You can use Titanium White, a black of your choice, Burnt Umber, Raw Umber, Raw Sienna, and a green of your choice (optional).
So mix up a very dark charcoal or dark brown, or some sort of dark color as indicated by your references, and paint the entire bottom of the foot that color, except the hoof wall.
Then mix up a series of tans, browns, greys, and greiges, but don’t thin them. Now take your stippling brush, dip in to the color of your choice to start, dab out the excess and then gently and randomly stipple specks onto the bottom of the foot, keeping them tiny so scale is maintained. Just two or three dabs is enough for the first pass otherwise you’ll destroy all those specks and turn them into blobs, and we don’t want that. So let that dry. Now repeat with your other mixed up colors. In the end, you should have a multi-colored, tiny speckled mess. Good!
Now thin down those greys, tans, and greiges down to about 1% milk consistency and gradually build up the highlight layers, using those colors back and forth, letting them dry between each pass. Things to think about highlighting are the bars, the rims of the frog, the dark line of the white line, and any crinkles or other details you want to input. You can go back in with your dark tones, too, to add more crinkles and details if you wish as well.
Then paint in the distal rim of the hoof wall with either dark hoof color (for a dark hoof) or a pale hoof color (for a shell hoof). For an added detail, you can paint the rim discolored with dirt, manure, or mud if you wish instead.
Don’t forget to paint in any portions of pigmented sole which can you do now. Like sometimes a palmar foot will have a dark spot from pigment and that’s a cool detail to add, so lean into your references.
Extra points: Don’t be afraid to paint in staining or wet spots as, well, that’s life, right?

There are six things to avoid when painting the palmar foot. First, precision is key so avoid a careless hand. Highlights and shadow should be exactly where they need to be, not flupped up onto surrounding areas. Likewise, the whiteline should be even, tight, and not deviate otherwise you might accidentally paint in white line disease. So a steady hand is a very good thing in all this. Second, keep the structures clear to avoid a confusing result. Third, avoid regimentation in the speckling and streaking. You want your palmar feet to appear grown, not painted. Fourth, always keep scale in mind with the speckles and the detailing. Fifth, don’t fight the sculpture. How ever the sculpted feet are done, follow them and don’t try to add in painted corrections. It’ll just lend a result that less confusing and look more cohesive with the sculpture. And sixth, don’t deviate away from your references. Whatever colors they’re offering to you, take them unless it denotes an injury or bruising (like red or burgundy patches or streaks on the hoof wall or sole).

Painting Shoes

These are sometimes found on our sculptures and we need to know how to paint them realistically. To do that, we’ll first need some metallic silver acrylic paint. There are many different kinds to choose from so you have plenty of options. Just try to get one that isn’t so bright a silver, but more of a muted silver, or darkened silver, like “antique silver” or some such type as a bright “clean” silver color can be a little bit unrealistic after life’s wear and tear. And the thing to remember is that horseshoes are most often made of unpolished steel (unless they’re a specialty shoe), not bright silver metal, so think more in those terms. To that end, have a series of good reference photos to work from to stay on target.

So to paint horse shoes, consider this process:

Grab your small round with the good tip and long bristles, for that necessary reservoir of paint.
Have all your hooves painted and finished.
The colors you’ll be using are the metallic silver paint and a black of your choice.
Thin a dollop of black paint to the consistency of 1% milk to make more of a wash.
Paint the shoes black, getting into the crevice between the shoe and the hoof. Be sure to get the bottoms to get the details there, and the inner rims, too, staying mindful not to bloop the black painting onto palmar surface of the feet. Let dry.
Thin the silver paint to about 2% milk consistency and wash over that, maintaining the black crease with the hoof and painting around the shoe well on the bottom of the shoe to preserve their blackened color. Let dry.
Boop on a tiny point onto each nail head in the shoe well to make the nail heads “pop.”
Put a tiny rectangular boop of silver paint up on the hoof wall to denote the nail in the hoof where your references tell you (about 1” up from the shoe on a real horse so scale down). You’ll want three on the inside and four on the outside, between the toe and the quarters (make sure the nails are not on the quarters, a common error that’s critical to avoid). However, farriers like to use the least amount of nails possible, so three nails on the inside and three on the outside is fine, too.
Extra points: Go back to hoof painting to add some staining around and streaking downwards from the nails on the hoof. Maybe even paint in holes to denote the older row of nails that were removed, too.

Conclusion to Part V

Little details like all of this can really take your paintjob over the top and provide a great springboard into more advanced methods and observations. Because, yes, there’s more to it than what I’m sharing with you in this series. Remember, this is a beginner-level exploration…there’s always more to add to the mix! And isn't that awesome? Always having a carrot out there to chase after keeps us hungry and stretching towards our potential, and so you discover—yes—not only can you do it, but you can even do more. So cool! Because wouldn’t painting become dull if you were able to do it all immediately? I think so. Always being asked to go that extra step into a new way of Seeing, a new way of painting, a new interpretation keeps things so fresh and exciting!

So in that spirit, next time we’ll jump into the last part of this series, Part VI. We have some mighty big topics to tackle in it, so hang tight! We’ll tackle it soon enough!

“Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.”

―Vincent Van Gogh

Special Effects: How to Create Tricky Aspects of Horse Color for Beginners Part IV

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 09 Dec 2025 18:18:00 +0000

Introduction to Part IV

We’re back at it with this six-part series delving into some painting techniques for beginners, this being Part IV. We’ve covered a lot of ground in Part I, II, and III, from painting eyes and hoof striping to mapping and dun factors, but we have a ways to go still. There’s lots more ground to cover.

But that’s the great thing about learning—there’s always something new to glean and ponder, isn’t there? It just never ends. Well, the same is so for our art—there will always be that new interpretation to express, that subtle nuance to reproduce, that novel feature to capture. It’s just an unending source of inspiration and fascination that fuels our efforts! Truly, this marvelous creature we so love presents us with enough material for several lifetimes, and still there would be more! That in mind then, let’s continue our explorations with more tricky features to paint so let’s jump right in!…

Painting Faces

Every horse’s face is unique, just like ours. And each one is absolutely beautiful, isn’t it? And if you look closely, you’ll tease out lots of little highlighted and shaded details we can transfer to our paintjob as well. Indeed, the horse's face is full of neato details and tonal changes and it's fun to capture all that in our paintjob. Plus it really helps to bring the sculpture to life and adds so much interest to our portfolio. So take some time to observe and study the horse’s face up close. Because, yeah, pop those details onto your painted face and…bam…your paintwork is immediately launched to the next level! But how do we do that?

Well, look at your references and note where the highlights are hitting and where the shadows are falling on the head. Squint your eyes if necessary as that helps to generalize things better. Now note which of those areas are skeletal such as the zygomatic arches, the nasal bone, jaw bars, and the teardrop bone. These areas do best when they appear hard and solid, not fleshy and squishy and a handy way to achieve this is using bold blocks of highlight and shadow. (However, don't forget that certain coat colors often call for bony areas to be darkly shaded. For example, on many greys and sooties, the teardrop bone and zygomatics can be dark at times.) Now identify the fleshy parts such as the jowls, the buccinator bellies, the muzzle, the eyelids, eyebrow wrinkles, forehead musculature, and fleshy details and textures. These are gooshy areas that do best when painted in a way that amplifies that quality. A handy way to mimic this is to use a bold shading treatment with embedded tonal differences, with a squiggly, multi-layered treatment to highlighting, textural details, and tone. Indeed, squiggles of light color are particularly helpful in the expanse between the eye and nostril, for instance. Now identify those details that should be specially painted such as veins, wrinkles, eyelashes, ear fuzz, ripples, moles, subtle bumps or depressions, or other little touches. Like with fleshy parts, these squooshy or textural details should appear gooshy and soft or fuzzy, not hard and firm. A good way to achieve this is a subtle layering of color and tone to make them sit back in some places and pop out in others. Then lastly, pay careful attention to hair growth patterns such as forehead whorls, or the flow or grouping of fleabites, or the grain on composite colors (like roan and grey). Likewise, hair details on the face should appear fuzzy or silky, and a diffused use of paint with subtle, strategic, striated detail can do much to mimic this effect. For example, drawing in “hairs” with sharp color pencils and then softening them with a burnisher or airbrush to make them “sit back" into the coat can work well. Just stay mindful of scale when painting in little hairs. Also be mindful of the color and tones of the details you're painting, paying close attention to your references. For instance, on some coats, the moles can be dark dots rather than highlighted nodules.

Here are some tips for painting faces before you start:

A handy way to visualize things is to think of the face being lit from a single light source, somewhere in the front, about five inches from the sculpture’s nasal bone and forehead. This helps to mimic the angle of the sun's light in a flattering way. So where the light hits is where the highlight should be concentrated and where it doesn’t should be where shade is applied. In other words, the “tops” of things need highlight and the “bottoms” of things need shading.
Determine what the hair situation is or grooming status the sculpture represents before shading the face. For instance, a horse with a tightly clipped face, such as a show Arabian, will have more dark skin showing and influencing the body color, so pay attention to where and how that manifests. In contrast, a fuzzy, winter-coated horse will sometimes have less dark skin showing.
It can be a good idea to tint dark skin greys away from stark black and white mixtures away from stark white to instead infuse some tans and browns to soften them for a muted or fleshier look. Also, this gives you a "place to go" when you add highlights and shadings. And don’t always think in terms of body color and and black for skin aspects. In reference photos, look for greys, tans, greens (grass staining) and other colors that can add realism and dimension to the skin areas. Also look for highlighted areas such as the nostril rims, muzzle wrinkling, and fleshy bits that do well with a bit of accentuation with soft, lighter highlights. However, when it comes to certain dilutes like champagne, pearl, isabella, etc., think in terms of their respective "lavender" brown, brownish, or pink skin tones instead of charcoal skin.
Work to make the intensity of the facial shading consistent to the intensity of the body shading since both need to harmonize. A body given cursory treatment looks odd with a face that’s been super detailed or visa versa. Keep the big picture in mind.
These techniques are easily scaled up or down with how big your sculpture or medallion is. Just be sure that as the size diminishes that precision and scale become more of an issue.
Something to consider is that not all things in nature translate well into painted sculpture. For instance, a coat color may come right up to the eyes, muzzle, and inside clipped ears of a real horse, but this effect isn’t so flattering on a painted sculpture because it looks unfinished. Champagnes and similar dilutes can be particularly challenging for this reason. Really, just a bit of darker shading in these areas can do a world of good for a painted sculpture to read better, but it's up to you and your references.
Accentuate the sculpted expression in pigment, don't work against it. Likewise, we should let the sculpture guide our creative choices...follow it, don't fight it.
Pay attention to tonal differences on the face characteristic of a coat pattern or characteristic for an authentic result such as sooty, dun factors, or pangaré.
Horse faces can be tricky to paint as they characterized by both hard and soft structures that have to read right. To that end, straight lines tend to look hard and squiggly lines tend to look fleshy. Manipulate these effects to mimic bone or flesh on the head.
We can use fine liner brushes, pencil pastels, or color pencils to further detail markings, eyes, or other facial features. Just try to blend or mute the color pencils since stark pencil work can be distracting when set against more blended, subtle media. Always harmonize the media so it all marries together.
Pay attention to details and how they could be painted. For instance, again sometimes moles around the eye and on the muzzle will show up as a dark spot rather than a neutral one or a lighter one, depending on the color and coat situation.
Be sure to paint in the eyelashes if they're present, and add delicate striations to really drive the point home if you wish, like how you would paint fuzzy ears (discussed in a bit).
Don’t be too timid with shade and highlight. We have to recreate the look of mass and anatomy, remember. And in the sea of sculptures with flat facial shading, anything with the lifelike pizzazz will get the attention. However, that said, don't go overboard either so the piece looks like carnival paint. It’s a delicate balance.
A fuzzy coat can warrant highlighting and shading of the hair clumps and striations, so pay attention to hair texture on the head.
Keep things diffused so they aren't harsh, literal lines. This will help the look of living flesh more than a painted model.
Not every facial structure needs to be emphasized equally or "outlined" with shadow all the time. Sometimes some sculptures do better with hinting at things instead so we should use our discretion for what works best for the sculpture. Always work in the sculpture's best interest.
Dark parts tend to look smaller than light parts, so if a facial aspect (such as a nostril) is awkwardly large, simply keep it darker toned. Or, on the other hand, if an area is too small, use white markings or starker highlight to make them appear larger.
Don't forget to shade and highlight large patches of white, too, like a large marking on the face. Having an intricately shaded color portion with a big plain white marking isn’t as cohesive as giving them similar treatment. This is especially so of bald faces where all you really have is a white face you have to make work in a lifelike bony and fleshy way.
Don’t ignore the ears! Look for wrinkles, veining, hair growth patterns, and other details you can recreate. It doesn't necessarily have to be on the sculpture itself for you to duplicate it in pigment either, you can paint it on.
A face looks best if the ears, eyes, and nostrils have the same level of interest value, the same degree of treatment, so be sure to harmonize all three.
All details don’t need the same intensity of pigment. Indeed, a life-like quality can be best served with differing intensities in strategic locations. For example, perhaps the “Y” vein on the face looks best with a brighter highlight while any veining on the jowl or ears will do better with subtler highlighting. Or maybe that "Y" vein needs varying tones to highlight it for a fleshier appearance rather than just using one highlight color. Similarly, while the eyebrow wrinkles can look good with a bolder treatment of highlight and shade, the muzzle wrinkles are more convincing with a softer touch. So pay attention to how highlight and shadow play on the face differently for a living effect.
Study the work of other artists to discover how they tackled certain aspects. Studying how they met the challenge can go far to refine our own Eye and rethink our ideas.
We should gather lots of good reference photos and consider how we would paint them on a static sculpture. Ponder where highlight and shade occur plus the look of details, squiggles, ridges, ripples, striations, and other little features. Compare and contrast, and pay attention to breed, age, seasonal, and individual variations. This helps us to develop a fuller mental library and the freedom to express the face with broader ideas than what’s habitual.
Because each face is individualistic, so should your facial paint job. So approach each painted face with a new, fresh idea. Avoid habit, formula, and try to ignore what's expected by convention. So study to find what lies beyond that proverbial box and seek to infuse novelty into each of your painted faces.
The more faces you paint, the more confident you’ll become so just keep at it. It’ll get easier!

So to start painting all this, try this process on a dark-skinned head (you can do the same with a pink-skinned marked head, just use dark pinks for the shade tones instead):

Basecoat the entire head the same color as the body or how your reference photo indicates.
Block in any tonal differences indicative of a pattern such as pangaré, sooty, dun factoring, or grey.
Block in the charcoal shadings of the eye, nostril, and ear.
Line the top ridges of the eyelids and brow wrinkles in a light grey or light version of the body color, and the crevices of the wrinkles in dark charcoal or a dark version of the body color. Also use the dark charcoal color to add that "eyeliner" around the lower eye rim and to define the front corner of the eye. Go back and fix any oopsies with the appropriate color to tidy things up so they're precise.
Use black or dark charcoal to color in the nostril (inside the "V" where the two rims meet, too) and line of the mouth. Then line the rims of the nostrils and muzzle wrinkles in a light grey or light body color, whichever works best for the overall effect.
Lay in the facial shadings, underneath the skeletal and fleshy structures plus the “salt cellar," or the hollow within the zygomatic arches as well. The shade color should be most intense in the remotest areas, but diffuse into the basecoat. Examples of what to potentially shade: Underneath the zygomatic arches, the jawline, above and underneath the teardrop bone to make it "pop," under the buccinator bellies, down the middle of the nasal bone and some of the soft fleshy details from eye to muzzle. We can also shade the space between the jaw bars under the head. Overall though, choose to shade where it's strategic for the sculpture, flattering it best and being most accurate to its facial structure.
Lay in the highlights. Think of concentrated streaks of highlight placed in very specific places and forms. Keep the pigment bright and clean. Examples of what to highlight: Each ridge of the nasal bone, the tops of the zygomatic arches, the ridge of the teardrop bone, the tops of the buccinator bellies, the jaw bars, and the jowl area beneath the eye and diffusing towards the bottom into the shaded part. Again, keep the sculpting of the sculpture in mind when choosing highlighted areas.
Squiggle in brighter, tighter, and more concentrated highlight in strategic areas of the fleshy areas to make them appear gooshy such as around the muzzle, under the eye, the expanse between the eye and the muzzle, on the buccinator bellies, and on the jowl. Squiggles help to make these areas appear fleshy with their complex web of underlying flesh and fascia.
Pay attention to the fleshy muzzle texture between the nostrils, too, when looking at the face from the front, shading and highlighting any crevices, bumps, and contours as needed.
Use the basecoat color to blend everything, then go back and deepen shading or brighten highlight as needed. Add extra tones and tints as needed, and continue to fudge and detail and then…
Lay in markings then finish by putting a dab of dark flesh color deep inside the nostrils. Be sure to shade and highlight the markings, too, to avoid a flat paintjob that will seem inconsistent to your detailed face.
Extra points: After you’re satisfied, highlight veins, nerves, tiny fleshy details, and wrinkles.

There are five things to avoid when painting the face. First, don’t create a confusing mess. Paint like you mean it by keeping the ideas clear and the facial features distinct to push along the sense of clear anatomy. Second, similarly, the face has to make sense visually or it’ll be distracting. Each detail and portion of the face should be treated with a meticulous, precise hand. For instance, an eyelid highlight should be exactly on the tops of the eyelid and not slid into the crease. Likewise, shading should be exactly within the fold and not creep up onto the ridge of the eye lid. Similarly, vein highlights should be exactly on top of the veins and not slip off onto the facial musculature. Precision is everything when painting faces! Third, don’t forget to get fiddly because details count. Remember that we’re dealing with inanimate objects that have to mimic life, and usually an overly simplistic approach to facial shading needs a bit of help to truly convey this impression. We don't want our piece to look just like a hurriedly painted model, do we? So pay extra attention to details, deliberately accentuating them with pigment carefully. Like look for tonal changes, squiggles, ripples, and tiny striations in life and in the sculpture to accentuate to really wake up our facial paintwork. Third, don’t approach everything in the same way. Know which to emphasize and which to give softer treatment. For example, the zygomatic arches and buccinators can do well with a bolder treatment whereas the muzzle can often use a subtler touch. Fourth, don’t ignore the ears. They should given the same special treatment as the rest of the face. This means that their insides should be detailed (which we’ll discuss in a bit) and the colored ear rims should also be neatly done as well as the “V” where the ear folds join the head. And fifth, don’t regard facial shading and highlight as an afterthought. It’s as integral to the paintjob as dapples or markings. Indeed, a skillful coloration of the face can make a sculpture all by itself, so think about going the extra mile. (Recommended Reading: Face Off Again: Painting Equine Faces Redeux)

Highlighting Veins

A nifty detail to include is the subtle highlighting of veins on the face, ears, and body. Do this well, and the impression of a thin skinned horse is really amplified which can be extremely effective for hot bloods like Arabians, Amazigh, Marwaris, Thoroughbreds, and Tekes, or for those pieces depicting athletic motion. Do it not so well, and well…not so good. So the stakes are high! So practice on a junker first to get a feel for this technique before really diving in.

So determine your piece’s primary body colors in the areas with veining. What you want to do is make your highlight color one shade lighter than the primary color so the vein will “pop,” but not too much. You want just a subtle indication, not something that’ll capture the eye and not let go. Now it’s better to work in sections rather than all over, all at once, so do one region of the body at a time. So mix up some paint that’s your highlight color for an area and thin it to 1% milk consistency. You want it to be opaque enough to show up, but not so opaque as to look “painted on.” On the other hand, you don’t want it so diluted as to be too transparent that’ll also be prone to pool, drip, get patchy or streak. There’s a Goldilocks Zone for consistency here, which you’ll learn soon enough through feel. Okay, now take your small round with the longer bristles, like your mapping brush, and dip it in the paint and dab out the excess then trace onto the selected veins with paint, being very careful to keep right on the vein and not flup off onto the body. Absolute precision is critical. However, you don’t have to highlight every vein or capillary as often times simply choosing strategic ones will do. It’s up to you. Also, you can simply paint in little capillaries if you wish. Indeed, sometimes these structures are so small or the scale of the piece is so tiny that they warrant this painted-on approach. Just keep it subtle and not garish. Extra points: Highlight the vascular network on the ear.

You want to avoid five things. First, don’t make your highlight color too bright otherwise it’ll make for a distracting result. You merely want to amplify them just enough to drive the point home, not create an eye-sink. Keep it subtle. Second, don’t create a messy, confused result as this is a distraction. Instead, be precise and steady-handed at all times when highlighting veins. It makes for not only a more tidy result, but ones that makes a lot more sense. And third, it’s often not a good idea to shade under a vein as highlighting is often more than enough to get the point across. In this case, using a feather can be far more effective than using a hammer. Fourth, don’t amplify problematic veining. In other words, don’t bring our attention to something that’s a liability. So only highlight veins if they’re correct and convincing because if they aren’t, highlighting them is only going to become a big distraction. And fifth, don’t paint out of scale. Always keep scale in mind. Really, if you cannot highlight a vein tiny enough, then it’s better not to.

Painting Fuzzy Ears

Fuzzy ears are just charming and endearing, aren’t they? So cute! But painting them can be a little bit of a challenge. Once we’re armed with some ideas though, they can actually be really fun to paint! Truly, to see the ears just “wake up” right before your eyes is so cool! (Recommended reading: All Ears: Sculpting the Equine Ear)

Okay, first off, you need good, reliable, applicable fuzzy ear references. That’s to say that ear fuzz color can be dependent on the body color, so pay attention to any correlations. For instance, ear fuzz on a grulla is often counter-intuitively very pale rather than dark and you need to know that before you paint. So only use references of ear fuzz that are derived from your actual body color. In other words, if you’re painting an apricot dun, only use ear fuzz photos of apricot duns as references. These types of references aren’t interchangeable.

Now another thing to remember about ear fuzz is that it’s fuzzy, soft, fluffy hair. It’s not the same kind of hair on the coat or in the mane and tail. It’s texture is quite different, almost downy. So we want to mimic that best we can in our paintwork. How do we do that? Well, with tone and brushwork, two powerhouses that work together to help our illusion along in this regard really well.

So to paint ear fuzz, you’ll be using your mapping brush and the paint consistency should be about 1% milk consistency. Dip and dab as usual, and paint in layers, applying these steps. Now we'll be painting dark to light most often with ear fuzz as it lends a dimensionality to them when we paint in lighter details in layers. So to that end…

Paint the entirety of the ear fuzz in the medium darkest shade color you find in your reference.
Then paint strategic crevices with the darkest shade color you find in your reference.
Now mix up some highlight colors that match your references to the consistency of about 1% milk and gently add delicate thin streaks of hair on the ear fuzz. Then just keep doing this until the ear is done to your liking, staying mindful not to obliterate your shading colors you laid in earlier.
Do some back-and-forth adjustments as needed.
Extra points: When you’re done, be sure to rim ears and tip them with the appropriate color as indicated by your references.
Note: You don’t have to just use paint and brushes for this as color pencils or pastel pencils can work nicely, too (keep them sharp).
Alert!: Now if the fuzzy texture is sculpted in a way that’s very textured and striated, instead opt to drybrush in the highlights rather than brush them in. To do this, paint the inner ear dark as per usual and allow that to fully dry. Then mix up a couple of highlight colors, but don’t thin them down—keep them thick. Then take a soft filbert brush that’s a little beaten up, like your dappling brush, dip it a little bit into a highlighting paint and rub out the excess on a lint-free shop towel then gently and lightly scrub this color onto the ear fuzz, just on the ridge surfaces of the ear hair. In other words, don’t jam the brush in there…just hit the tops of the sculpted ridges. Instantly, you’ll see those ridges highlight themselves in such a lovely way!

There are two things you want to avoid when painting fuzzy ears. First, don’t create a confused, messy result but keep your shadings and highlights clear. And second, don’t stray from the colors on your reference. It’s important to only use the tones you see in your photo otherwise the result may not read quite right.

Painting Shaved Ears

Alternatively, there will be occasions where you’ll need to paint the interior of shaved ears. Now the thing to note about shaved ears is that all of the ear’s anatomy will be exposed, anatomy we can capture in our pigment to add detail. Specifically, there are delicate but prominent ridges inside the flute of the ear that do well with being painted in if not sculpted, or highlighted if sculpted. To do that, simply use the vein highlighting method then gently streak in those ridges. When you’re done, don’t forget to rim the ears appropriately. Extra points: Blend the ends of the ridge streaks into the ear so they melt into the rest of the ear nicely.

There’s three things you want to avoid when painting the ridges inside shaved ears. For starters, keep the effect subtle so only use a color one or two times lighter. That minor variation will be plenty to get the point across. Second, keep a steady hand. You want that paint directly on top of the ridge and unwavering. And third, don’t go too bananas with this. There’s only about two to three ridges inside the ear, so don’t do more than that.

Conclusion to Part IV

Some people think they need innate talent to do art. I disagree. I think it takes two just things: Practice and love. That’s it. That’s all it takes. So if you’d love to do some arting, you’ve already got half the equation! Dive in! And give it enough practice. So many folks think that within five pieces they should be creating at some lofty level. It doesn’t work that way. It’ll take about ten or fifteen before you start to see some real improvements. And if you’re doing it right, you’ll have created hundreds but are still surging forwards with improvements. But that’s the glorious thing, isn’t it? The more you grow, the more room you get to grow into, like a goldfish! It keeps all this so fascinating, fun, and challenging because wouldn’t it become boring and stale if we all hit “perfect”? And besides, “perfection” is overrated. It’s an impossible illusion, too, and it hurts you in a comparison trap that does nothing for your confidence. So just darn the torpedoes and take up painting! If you’d like some guidance and structure, take a class, read and article, or watch one of the many videos online. There are a ton of resources out there at your fingertips! How cool is that? The point is—just start. Don’t allow your fears and doubts to hold you back. Life is too dang short.

So in Part V, we’ll continue our painting journey with more tricky effects that’ll add some spice to your creative brew!

“Talent is good. Practice is better. Passion is best.”

— Frank Lloyd Wright

Special Effects: How to Create Tricky Aspects of Horse Color for Beginners Part III

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 02 Dec 2025 17:54:00 +0000

Introduction to Part III

Welcome again to this six-part series exploring some special effects in paintwork for beginners! So far we’ve covered a lot of ground from hoof striping to painting eyes, but we’ve got a ways to go still. There’s a lot to cover!

It’s important to help out our beginners in this art form. Why? Well, it’s good for our community and it’s good for you. When we have more brains working problems, we find more diverse solutions and that just spells innovation for everyone. We also encourage the painting of all those full shelves of nekkid resins and that spells good things for our shows and engagement. What’s more, who knows where the next superstar will come from, the next one to lead us into the step in our evolution? From the beginner pool, that’s where! Plus, one of the best ways to learn is to teach because you really have to know your stuff. That’s to say, when you teach beginners your methods, you’re actually learning more about your own conventions and techniques, too, since having to explain something warrants introspection and reflection. Wrap it all up then, if we don’t encourage beginners, we’re actually stunting our own growth in so many ways, on a personal level and as a community. So consider ways to help a beginner you know. It’s the right thing to do and it sure feels good! The thing is that no matter how long you’ve been at this, there is always—always—something more to learn. Something new, novel, innovative, fresh, always! So in essence, if you're doing it right, you're always a beginner, aren’t you? Really, that newb energy is far better for you than you think!

So with that close to heart, let’s continue our adventure into tricky painted effects and novel little touches for our paintwork to kick our art up a notch or two….let’s go!…

Dun Factors

Dun factors can be found on some duns and grullas, but their hue depends on their base color as not all dun factors are black based. For example, an apricot dun can have rust colored factors or a dunalino can have golden brown factors. So pay attention to their color and don’t just assume they’re black-based across the board.

So what are dun factors? Well, they’re also called “primitive marks” or “zebra markings,” and all the factors may be present or just a couple, it all depends on individual variation. However, the dorsal stripe is the most common while leg barring and ear tipping are the second most common. And you know the mantra by now: Always work from good references, especially when doing dun factors, and follow them religiously. It’s also a good idea to study lots of dun factors to develop a mental library to work from because you’ll see that there’s quite an array of factors that can show up. So, all said, really lean into your references and try not to exercise too much artistic license. So these factors are:

Dorsal stripe: This can vary from thin to broad and can vary in intensity as well.
Barbs off the dorsal stripe or “fish bones”: Perpendicular striations that emanate from the dorsal strip and head down towards the ribcage, even as extensively as to run down onto the ribcage. They’re sometimes accompanied by “shadow dorsals” that run parallel to the dorsal stripe for a length down the spine, usually ending at the lumbar span or sacrum.
Shoulder barring: This also varies from thin to broad to sparse to extensive, even going up the neck and onto the wither and back. It can also vary in intensity.
Hip barring: This is usually more conservative than shoulder barring, but can have the same variations in intensity and barring.
Leg barring: Very obvious on the cannons, gaskins, and forearms, it’s zebra-ish in character not just straight lines across these areas. However, leg barring can extend up the hindquarter and lower neck but end up more as a “shadow” of color than a zebra-like stripe in these extensive areas.
Tipped ears: The top third-ish to one-half of the ear can be colored with dark color. The ear rims are typically dark colored as well. (Ear fuzz is most often pale.)
Ear barring: This can often be seen as a band of dark color around the flute of the ear below the tipping, or nearly around the flute that can vary in intensity between horses.
Cobwebbing: Cobwebbing occurs on the forehead as zebra-like faint striping emanating from the center of the head. It can also have a “now you see them, now you don’t” quality to them at times, too.
Mottling: These patches of splotchy dark color are like tiny mottled dapples that can occur on the chest, shoulder, forearm, triceps, and elbow area, stifle, rear and gaskin areas, even up on the jowl.
Smudge marks: These can occur around the elbow, stifle, rear, and gaskin although they can also crop up at the base of the ear, the curved boney “wing” of the Atlas bone (the first cervical vertebra), the point of hip and croup, and along the shoulder.
Face mask: Here we’ll find a coloring of the nasal bone when minimally expressed to a coloring of the whole face to that of the entire head and down the neck, depending on individual variation.
Neck Shadow: When dark color clings along the top of the neck, sometimes even creating some downwards running barbs or streaks.
Chest barring: Rather rare, it tends to show up somewhat small and with a “now you see it, now you don’t” effect like cobwebbing.
Guard hairs or “frosting": Both the mane and tail often have pale hairs growing along crest or dock that can vary in intensity, but are often quite stark in color.
Dark points: Factoring typically causes dark points on the legs, mane, and tail, and often the nasal bone, teardrop bone, and zygomatics.

Now if you note, some of these effects can have a “now you see them, now you don’t” quality to them or they can be really intense, it all depends on individual variation. So stay open to how they vary between individuals to choose the right effect for your paint job. To that end, it’s a good idea to pick a reference that has the types of primitive marks you want to paint to avoid creating something that doesn’t read correctly. In other words, try to find good one-to-one comparative images to work from so you don’t have to re-interpret things or have to apply too much artistic license.

So as for painting primitive marks, there are many ways to do it from using color pencils, pastel pencils, pastels, paint, and airbrushing. I recommend using pastel pencils when first starting out because they give you the control you need with a smudge-factor to blend them easily. For that, you can use a pointed Q-tip to gently smudge strategic areas of your primitive marks to blend and soften them. For extra points, you can augment the pastel pencil work with color pencils to amplify them strategically if you wish (keep them sharp).

You want to avoid six things with dun factors. First, you don’t want a streaky, artificial look to your factors, but an organic look. So keep them opaque, blended, smudged, and muted a snidge so they “sit back.” Second, on the other hand, you don’t want them to be pastel-powder puffy in color either but good solid factors. Practice on a junker model first to get a feel for the process as it’s a delicate balance. However, also note on your reference how some factors can be quite stark, so pay attention to their intensities, too. On that note, third, don’t assume they’re the same intensity over the entire body so look for how they may be less intense in strategic areas. For example, they can be softer sometimes inside the legs so study your references for those qualities if they’re there. Similarly, fourth, don’t assume all dun factors are the same tone so look for how their hue may vary over the different areas of the body. Indeed, the tones you use for the dun factors are really important, so play close attention to that in your references. Then five, avoid regimentation and work to mimic the look of organic randomness in the intensities, structure, and nature of your painted dun factors. And sixth, it’s really important to mimic the zebra-like quality of the leg barring rather than doing just straight-across lines of pigment. So really focus on their zebra-stripy qualities and you’ll nail it.

Reverse Dappling

Reverse Dappling is a curious effect on some colors from chestnuts, roans, duns, some palominos and champagnes. It can also happen with some clipping circumstances, so look for that as well. It appears on donkeys and mules, too. So what’s a reverse dapple? Well, normal dapples are like a pale spot in a dark honeycomb, right? Well, reverse dapples are dark dappled smudges of color that mimic the look of a normal dapple. On roans, in particular, there’s also often an extensive amount of “frosting” of lighter color surrounding and accompanying the reverse dapples, making them even more pronounced. And on champagnes, reverse dappling can be remarkably extensive. For this reason, you’ll need a good reference photo to work from to reproduce them accurately, and stick to it faithfully. And do a lot of study to develop a mental library to learn its variability because you’ll see they can be intense or subtle, discreet or very extensive, like all over the body, depending on the individual.

As for painting reverse dappling, again, a pastel pencil and a pointed Q-Tip are a handy means to get them on there. Color pencils can also be very useful here as well (be sure to keep them sharp). And some media just lend themselves well to painting them on such as pastels and oils. Acrylics are probably the most difficult to use subtly so think about using dry brushing or a drying retardant. Overall though, be very mindful of tone to “sit them back into the coat” so they don’t look painted on.

You want to avoid three things with reverse dappling. First, you don’t want a harsh, abrupt look to them, so keep them muted and smudgey, and be careful to diffuse the edges a bit. Second, avoid regimentation and regularity in their size and spacing and shapes. They aren’t polka dots! So again, use a reference photo faithfully to recreate them accurately. Indeed, when it comes to reverse dappling, that dappling pattern is its own thing, so really lean into your references. And third, don’t go off-tone with your reverse dappling as that can bust apart your illusion pretty quickly. So remain very mindful of tone so your reverse dappling looks convincing and realistic. (Recommended reading: The Dapple Dilemma: Different Strokes for Different Coats)

Scarring

Scarring is a fact of horse-life and can be a realistic touch to wild horses, rough stock, and working horses. However, many horses will have some sort of scar of some kind on their body, right? Hey, we do, too, so why not them as well? Horses don’t live in a reality vacuum. Indeed, perhaps one way our genre will evolve is to infuse more of real life into our pieces without penalty rather than this “perfection bubble” of contrived reality. Because the truth is any horse will often sustain a minimal level of "living wear" that's a neat realistic and provocative touch to add by suggesting a history, a narrative behind your piece. Wabi-sabi, baby!

Now scars come in two forms: Bare skin or discolored hair. Bare skin happens when the hair follicles have been so damaged that hair no longer grows back, exposing the skin underneath. This means we also need to consider whether that skin is dark or unpigmented pink before we paint. As for discolored hair, that happens when the hair follicles have been so damaged as to produce either white hair or dark hair in response to a damage event. For instance, many solid colors can develop “rub marks” from ill-fitting tack that manifests as small white patches or streaks of white while, on the other hand, roan is a very sensitive color that will develop dark spots or streaks in response to damage. This is why roan wild stallions have so many dark patches of color on their bodies—from all their battles, all that damage shows up as dark patches, splotches, and streaks. So do a lot of field study and study references to develop a mental library and sensitivity to finding them. When you do, you’ll find that scars are more common than you think, often occurring on the lower legs, or fight or play contact points. Either which way, they indicate a past event so keep your narrative in mind.

As for painting them, they’re easily added with a small round with a good point (and longer bristles to hold a good well of paint). When it comes to the bare skin type, sometimes they're flat and shiny, flat and matte, or slightly raised as they do vary so work from a good reference photo. However, avoid creating "proud flesh” which is granular raised scar tissue which can be a problematic condition unless it marries with your narrative. As for the discolored hair type, they show up as either unpigmented white hair or a darkened patch of hair.

Now for a skin color, use charcoals for dark skin and flesh for unpigmented skin (like under markings). To that end then, be mindful of tone to achieve a skin-like, muted, “grown” effect so they don’t look too harsh. So to paint a scar, think about this approach:

Soften your chosen black with greys or taupes for bare skin, or create muted flesh tones for unpigmented skin.
Use a quality pointed small round brush (with longer bristles to hold a good reservoir of paint) and thin your paint to about 2% milk consistency, then dip and dab out the excess, and apply. ”Subtle" is the key idea here to keep the effect soft and fleshy looking.
Extra points: Apply them at a hair texture angle to recreate that effect on their borders because remember there’s hair overgrowing along the perimeter.
Note: Or you can use pastel pencils or color pencils instead, if you wish.

When painting scars, you want to avoid four things. First, avoid producing brush strokes of harsh color on your piece. Keep your scarring flesh-like and soft by working carefully with properly thinned paint. Second, don’t make your scarring streaky and patchy. Remember, it’s bare skin so work to mimic that effect by making your scar even and opaque. Third, be mindful of tone so it doesn’t appear as harshly painted on but organic and fleshy. And fourth, avoid sloppiness. This is because you want a high degree of control and “crispness” to them because they are abrupt, so don’t diffuse them too much into the coat, don't make them too smudge or blendy. Remember, they indicate an injury rather than being naturally grown from the coat so try to mimic that best you can.

Brands

There are two basic types of brands: Freeze marks and hot branding. The former uses intense cold while the latter uses intense heat to mark the hide. They produce different effects so it's important to know the difference.

Don't confuse scars with freeze branding since this procedure damages the hair follicle itself and not the skin. On solid color animals then, freeze marking changes the hair color permanently to white by permanently damaging the hair follicle. However, that’s not true for grey horses in which white hairs eventually wouldn’t show up. On grey horses then, the freeze brand is left on longer to destroy the follicles completely, leaving the bare black skin to show the brand. Now hot brands, on the other hand, actually burn the hair and skin to permanently leave a raised scar.

As for when branding happens, some breeds can be branded in specific ways like the Arabian, Iberian, Trakehner, and Pega donkey, as well as many warmbloods, while some ranch horses are branded to identify their owners. So be sure to research the specifics before adding a brand to your paintjob to stay correct.

To do a dark-skin brand then, simply use the scar technique. However, be more mindful of the overlaying hair along the perimeter which can obscure the exposed skin quite a bit, making for more of a raised up effect more than anything else. Then for a white-haired brand, simply use thinned down white paint to about 1% milk and go in softened layers, following the hair growth pattern, much like the mapping technique. Again, use good reference photos to guide you. (Ranch horses and warmbloods are often hot branded and Arabians are often freeze branded to find those references.) Extra points: Actually have your brand mean something, like maybe an actual breed brand, or even your initials or studio logo.

There are two things you want to avoid. First, try not to make clean harsh lines, but mimic the hair growth patterns to denote the hair overlaying the brand's borders. And second, avoid a painted-on effect by staying mindful of tone and technique so the brand “sits back” into the paintjob rather than looking like it “sits on top," artificial-looking rather than organic-looking.

Conclusion to Part III

Perhaps one of the biggest obstacles for beginners isn’t a skill set per se, it’s confidence. But here’s the thing: Our confidence can only grow when we feel empowered, when we feel equipped to take the challenge on. So it’s this Catch-22 situation. This is another reason why empowering beginners with knowledge is so important. By helping them build their skillset, we empower them which, in turn, builds their confidence so they stretch farther, and so it goes in a positive feedback loop. So just a little bit of a leg up can actually have a tremendous pay off. This is a big reason why the new innovation of Zoom classes in our community is so amazing insofar as we now have a burgeoning system of empowerment to kickstart this cycle en masse. And that only spells great things comin' down the pike in every corner of our geekdom! Indeed, when we have more people behind the studio door, a lot of positives come out of that new awareness. (Recommended reading: Moving Forwards With Fear and Priming the Pump: Inspiring Your Inspiration and A New View: Transforming Intimidation Into Inspiration) How so? Well, for instance, we can have a better regard for the arts once we've done it ourselves because we'll have lived the arting experience, too. More still, we may solidify our bonds and networks by engaging in such a social aspect as group learning such as through workshops and classes and NaMoPaiMo. And there’s this, too, it’s just fun! Learning is just so fun! And when more folks are having fun with their arting, it reminds them why they’re doing all this in the first place. It’s a great emotional palette cleanser, let’s say. So consider taking a Zoom class or a workshop! Jump into NaMoPaiMo! It'll put you back in a beginner state of mind, which is always a good idea, and you get to interact with new people, which is often a big positive, plus it’s just plain ol’ fun! Win win win! Because the written word with images can only go so far. Sometimes a classroom is just the ticket! So consider it seriously. It’s a blast!

“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

— Sylvia Plath

Special Effects: How to Create Tricky Aspects of Horse Color for Beginners Part II

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 30 Nov 2025 21:00:00 +0000

Introduction to Part II

Welcome back to this six-part series geared for beginner level painting techniques. Hey, we all started as beginners and in our art form, they could sure use a leg up since they have to compete directly against pros right out of the gate, for the most part. It’s a good idea then to share with them any tidbit of insight that could jumpstart their progress because you just never know where the next superstar will come from, the next artist who leads our art form into the future with bold new strokes! So with that, let’s just dive into this Part II with gusto…let’s go!…

Flesh Tones

Flesh tones are used for any areas of pink skin such as markings or mottling on the muzzle, eye, or ear, or other areas characterized by thin skin which can also include the flank, girth area, groin, etc. For example, some painters pink the elbow, flank, groin, between the lateral cartilages of the foot, and sometimes the cannon tendon areas. Just remember that pinking denotes unpigmented skin under a white marking. For instance, grey horses tend to have dark skin, so don’t pink those areas on a grey horse.

However, flesh tones are notoriously difficult for beginners to mix because it’s a delicate balance of colors that, if mixed incorrectly, can become too red, too yellow, too orange, too pink, or even too brown. So a quick and easy way to mix up a versatile flesh tone is to combine Burnt Sienna and Titanium White. Just don't make it too dark as a medium-light tone for your darkest shadings is more than adequate. Then use whites to create highlight colors or to blend the flesh tones into the white areas. You can even play around with a teeny bit of Burnt Umber mixed in if you want to mute it or add some extra dimension to the darkest areas.

Now to make a classic home-brew flesh tone is trickier but learnable. Basically, it entails a red, a yellow, a blue, and a white, and you can mute it with a touch of Burnt Umber or Burnt Sienna. Different reds and yellows, blues and whites will yield different variations of flesh tones, so play around with a variety of colors to find a combination you prefer or what matches your references best. Now this is more time-consuming and touchy approach, so really practice and experiment with it, but once you get the hang of it, it’s a great way to create an accurate flesh tone.

There are three things you want to avoid. First, don’t create an off-tone such as a flesh that too red, too yellow, too orange, too pink, or too brown. Your flesh color really does need to be on target as closely as possible to read correctly, so practice at it. Second, don’t work blind. Always use good reference photos when painting flesh. This is because flesh tones vary in life and it’s okay to convey that variety in your body of work, so have fun with it. And third, try not to make your pinking “too hot.” Keep it subtle and soft so it remains looking fleshy and organic rather than "too much." Often times a hint is better than a hammer when it comes to pinking areas not on the face or groin.

Eyes

Eyes are truly the “windows to the soul,” making the ability to realistically paint a horse’s eye pretty important for recreating that inner spark of life in our pieces. The equine eye is also supremely expressive, revealing changes in mood, nuances of emotion, and points of attention so it can also be important for our narrative. Plus, we’re a visual species that interact through visual stimuli so much so that even mere eye contact is powerful unspoken communication. So when painting an eye, think of it this way: You’re engineering eye contact between your piece and the viewer. Really, the eye will be one of the first things a viewer keys in on to be enticed and charmed on an instinctive level. Through the eye then, the artist can instill a sense of a soul to trick the mind into suspending belief and, for a split second, interpret the piece as a living, breathing animal. But the stakes are high. Because, on the other hand, a clumsily painted eye produces quite the opposite effect. We’ve all seen these types of disquieting eyes…the lifeless stare or the possessed glare, or just as bad, the lack of precision or "cleanliness"? We want to avoid all of that.

But painting the eye is tricky business, indeed! There’s just so much going on in such a tight space, it’s easy to get lost in the process. But with a bit of technique and understanding, it’s all very doable. But let’s talk a bit about eye structure first so we know what we’re painting. The basic structures of the equine eye are:

Cornea and Aqueous Chamber: Forms the obvious round shape of the eye.
Sclera: Comprising approximately 75% of the globe, it’s the white portion that comes into view when the horse rotates their eye. All muscles responsible for moving the eyeball within the socket attach to the sclera. It has a blood supply so it often has vascular details, and sometimes a mottled pigmentation around the iris. In fact, some sclera can be brown colored around the iris, so always use good references when painting eyewhites.
Iris: The colored tissue surrounding the pupil that constricts or dilates the pupil to accommodate light intensities. It's the brown, rust, icy, blue, green, hazel, or amber portion of the eye we paint.
Lens and Pupil: The pupil is the hole for light to penetrate. It appears clear, dark, or “mirrory” in normal light, and is a rectangular-ish oval in the horse, in normal lighting. The lens has tiny muscles to change its shape to alter focusing abilities at different distances. In short, it's that black dot we paint in the middle of the iris.
Nigra Bodies (or corpora nigra or granula iridica): Normal in horses, these small dark folds or bundles of tissue lay on the iris. They’re usually found on the upper part of the pupil, but sometimes on the lower part as well. They’re believed to be sunshades for the eye, guarding the lower portion of the retina from overhead sunlight during grazing. They're not often painted in because they can confuse the look of the eye itself, but they're a fun curiosity to know about.
Extraocular muscles: Within the orbit are several muscles which attach to the sclera that move the eye within the socket, in all directions. These muscles are controlled by the cranial nerves, which come directly from the brain.
Tapetum lucidum: Showing through the pupil, this is a reflective structure at the back of the eye that increases the light capturing ability of the retina’s photoreceptors. Visually, it glows in headlights at night, or creates what we call the “blue glint” in certain angles in daylight. Some artists paint the blue glint on their pupils with metallic blue paint.
Nictitans membrane (third eyelid): A triangle mass of soft tissue with a T-shaped shield of cartilage embedded within it. When the lids blink, it sweeps across the orb, removing debris from the eyeball and distributing more tears. This structure is unique to the horse and only a few other animals. It's color can be fleshy, mottled, or brown, so use good references.
Lacrimal caruncle: A small dark pad in the anterior corner of the eye that drains the excess fluids from the eye. It's usually flesh colored, but can be brown at times, so use good references.
Upper and Lower Lids: Protecting the eye with reactionary closure, these lids shut fast and firmly. The upper lid has as straighter curve while the lower lid has a deeper curve.
Eyelashes: Being sensitive, they can trigger a blink-reflex protecting the eye. Most sculptures don't have eyelashes often for artistic or logistical reasons, but they're fun to know about.
Whiskers: Surrounding the eye are a few long whiskers used as feelers for eye protection. Our models typically omit the whiskers due to logistical reasons.
Medial Canthus: Front corner of the eye, towards the nose.
Lateral Canthus: Back corner of the eye, towards the ear.

Things to Keep in Mind about the Horse’s Eye Before Painting It:

The pupil isn’t round, but a long oval or sometimes slightly rectangularish. Though it can dilate to become rounder, it shouldn’t resemble a human eye or dog eye.
The pupil is set on a horizontal plane, always remaining more or less horizontal, approximately parallel to the ground regardless of head position. This is because horses have cyclovergence, or the ability to spin their orbs to keep the pupil approximately parallel to the ground to best spy potential predators. So study your references to find this nifty ability horses have — it’s cool!
The iris is oval in shape, not round so study eyewhites in your references to replicate its shape correctly.
Note any blotches or other discolorations, or even vascular capillaries on the sclera, all useful details. Likewise, the sclera around the iris isn’t always white. Notice how sometimes it can be various shades of brown or salmon? We’ll discuss sclera more in depth in a bit.
The iris has striations radiating out from the pupil like bicycle spokes, like the human eye, which are especially apparent on blue eyes. On the other hand, the amber eyes of some champagne horses don’t always exhibit these striations, appearing more monochromatic, even a bit metallic.
Note the rim of grey running around a portion of the iris, visible on many horses. This line denotes where the iris joins the peripheral cornea forming grey crescent-shaped lines on either side of the iris. These lines are called “trabeculae” and serve as drainage pathways for the aqueous humour to drain from the eye.
The horse has a third eyelid, located at the front corner of the eye, seen as a thin membrane that’s often brown, mottled brown, or dark pink in color.
The eye has a little bulb of pink flesh at the front canthus, the lacrimal caruncle that houses some tear ducts.
Don’t forget about the corpora nigra (black bodies) or granula iridica (iris granules) above and sometimes below the pupil. If you can swing it (which is a rare occasion), it can be a neat detail to add. Usually you have to be working on a pretty big eye to make it work well.
Horse eyes can be many shades of brown, from amber to chocolate. They can also be various shades of blue from a pale silver grey to mottled cobalt. Greenish eyes also occur as a transition color during the lightening process of the iris with champagnes. What’s more, horses can have marbled eyes in which the blue and brown pigments are jumbled together. However, equines cannot have red eyes as true albinos like rats, rabbits, and such. This is genetically lethal in the womb for horses, so no…no red-eyed horses.

General Eye Painting Tips

Try to paint the iris like it reflects light like a jewel. In this, when light hits the eyeball, it hits the top front of the eye and passes through and hits the iris on the opposite side in a straight line. Therefore, based on a light path that enters at the front and top of the eye, a standard placement for light, use the darkest shadings at this point of entry then use the lightest shadings directly opposite this point on the iris, just below the pupil. So in essence, shade and highlight the iris like a polished cabochon. It really makes the eye come to life and “pop” with interest and glow. It also dampens down on a possessed look often caused by a timid use of shadow and highlight. Just take care to blend the colors to achieve this gem-like quality.
Be very precise and tidy when painting the eye and surrounding areas, everything here should be clear and decisive, not careless, wiggly, messy, or hurried. Absolute precision is your friend here. Indeed, the eye structures are very precise and so should your painting of them. Always have "clean" lines when painting eyes.
Don’t be married to a preconceived notion of an expression because, often, the piece will dictate what looks best, despite your original intentions.
Use a set of tiny quality brushes with very good points and longish bristles to hold a good reservoir of paint. In fact, having a dedicated set of eye-painting brushes is a good idea for this reason. Take good care of them and clean them thoroughly afterwards to avoid paint drying up by the ferrule and spreading the bristles apart.
It’s important that your painted eyes “glow," like glass illuminated from behind. This is only achieved through a skilled use of tone and color, so keep practicing until you’ve gotten the knack of it. Indeed, that jewel-like approach is a nifty way to mimic this effect easily.
You can paint your eyes whenever you wish…the first thing you paint or the last thing, and any time in-between. It’s up to you. Just be sure the surrounding fleshy areas are tidy, defined, and precise against the orb. Like we shouldn’t have lid color dipping onto the orb or eye color creeping up onto the lids. Keep things tidy.
You can add metallics to the eye colors for extra punch and are particularly effective when painting the eyes of champagnes who can seem to have a metallic sheen to their irises.
Shrink down your reference to the size of the eyeball you’re painting to get a better one-to-one comparison for guidance. This is especially helpful for painting blue eyes. (Print your references out on photo paper instead of printer paper for the best results.)
Your paint mixtures should be on the thin side, about a 1% milk consistency. This will prevent a bumpy, lumpy, “braille” result. You want to slowly build up the layers of color and detail rather than bang it out in one go. That’s to say, you want the paint wet enough to flow well and stay put, but still be a bit blendable while not gumming up the works. Again, there’s a Goldilocks Zone of consistency so practice at it first on a junker model.
If you want to paint in that blue glint in the pupil, simply thin down some dark blue metallic paint and paint a careful smear of that on there, staying just on the pupil. This’ll produce that “now you see it, now you don’t” blue sheen you want.
Practice practice practice!
(Recommended Reading: Pleasin' Peepers: Sculpting the Equine Eye)

Painting Brown Eyes

The colors you can use are Titanium White, Burnt Umber, Blacks, Burnt Sienna, Raw Sienna, Van Dyke Brown, and Taupe (a handy softening or blending color). Adjusting these colors will create all the tones you’ll need, from amber to chocolate.
For a typical brown eye, paint the whole eye black (assuming you aren't inputting eyewhites).
Next, paint over that with a dark brown of your choice, leaving an encircling thin black rim.
Then lay in the pupil with black, being mindful to keep it parallel to the horizon. Also be mindful of the orb's rotation and subsequent pupil position if you intend to paint in eyewhites, too.
Next highlight that lower back portion of the iris, opposite the point of light entry, often with Burnt Sienna mixed with some Raw Sienna for more punch, then blend.
Then at the point of light entry, slightly darken the area with darker shadings for more punch. Or you can do the dark areas first, it's up to you.
Then blend the three color areas together, careful not to muddy them, staying mindful not to distort your pupil. But you can repaint your pupil if you need to.
Add in the grey line of the trabeculae if you can see it, if your reference tells you to.
Make adjustments so it’s all just right.
Extra points: Add in tiny striations for added detail.
Note: You can create amber eyes by leaning more heavily into the Raw Sienna and Taupe with a touch of Titanium White to create your gold tones.

Blue Eyes

Blue eyes are indeed arresting, but if done improperly, are notorious for looking possessed. To that end, some important tips to remember about blue eyes are:

Blue eyes aren’t dependent on face markings or pinto patterns so much. In fact, they can occur with little to no overlaying markings whatsoever. In turn, bald face markings can have brown eyes or even marbled eyes. So it all depends on an individual’s genetics so work from a good, reliable reference.
Blue eyes come in a wide variety of tones in from blue-grey to silver blue-grey to a slate blue to navy blue to denim blue to even a brilliant turquoise. There’s so much variation! So aways — always — use good reference photos when painting a blue eye. A great reference is your best friend in this! To that end, follow that reference religiously in terms of tone and structures otherwise your blue eye won’t be so convincing.
Shade the blue eye using the same gemstone, cabochon method used on brown eyes to actively avoid a flat, lifeless, staring effect.
Observe the details of variation. Like note that the bluer the eye, what tends to happen is that the blue patches become more pronounced and numerous as do the mottling and streaks. In other words, notice how the iris usually doesn’t become bluer by monochromatic intensity, but by the bolder mottling, striations, streaks or patches? One of the biggest mistakes in creating a very blue eye is to make it a homogenous strong blue color which usually results in a staring, possessed look.
Blue eyes just have a lot of stuff going on in a tight space so it’s important to catch as many of these details as feasibly possible, keeping scale in mind. You won't be able to catch them all because of scale, but try your best to catch what you can. For example, iris striations are easy to see on blue eyes, becoming very important details to reproduce. Also notice the dark blue line running along the circumference of the iris? Often, just to the inside this dark line, a pale grey and thicker line is sandwiched between this and the iris striations, the trabeculae. It’s details like this that will take your blue eye to the next level.
Know your eye structure when painting a blue eye because they all become very obvious with those pale blues.
Be sure to match your blue tones to the blues in your reference. This is very important to create a truly believable result. Off-tone blue eyes are a common error.

Painting Blue Eyes

To paint blue eyes, use black (warm, cool, or neutral, depending on what your reference tells you), Titanium White, and a blue that matches your reference.
To start, find the medium blue tone in your reference and mix that color then paint the entire eye with it.
Then take your black and boop on your pupil as precisely as you can. Now you have you basic canvas and anatomical guide.
Now you can approach painting a blue eye in two ways — literally or artistically, your choice. Literally is simply following your reference to the letter, and that works beautifully. Artistically, on the other hand, is shading and highlighting the iris in that gemstone manner to add dimension. I recommend painting literally when you paint your first blue eyes to get a feel for the process. Then as you gain confidence you can add some artistic touches like shading and highlight if you wish — or not, it’s not necessary. Just a matter of taste.
Don’t overlook the splotches, mottling, and streaks many blue eyes have, for detail.
Expect to do a lot of back-and-forth work with painting a blue eye to get it just right, but just don’t compromise your dark pupil. Repaint it in if you have to, at the end.
Extra points: Capture as many details as you can See, like the striations radiating out from the pupil on the iris to any striations that encircle the pupil as well.
Note: If you wish to paint a glass eye or wall eye, simply use more white in your mixes. If you need darker blues, ease up on the whites and lean more into your blue pigment. If you need to mute the blue a little bit, think about adding a teensy dab of black to create more of a blue-grey. There’s a lot of options so play around with the possibilities and follow your reference as closely as you can. And you can paint other variations with the blue eye method as well such as green eyes which instead of using just blues, you can mix in a bit of golds or yellows to green it up a snidge for a young champagne. Experiment and see what works with your reference. An important thing to notice though is that a champagne’s green eyes tend not to have the patchiness and striations on the iris blue eyes often have since the green is a transition color. Likewise, a marbled eye is achieved by combining the brown and blue techniques onto one eye. It’s a bit tricky, but once you get the hang of it, it’s a wonderful touch of novelty.

Sclera

Eyewhites are created by the sclera when the orb is moved, and which lends so much expressive power in our paintwork. However, sclera isn’t always white but can be riddled with or a full spectrum of reds, pinks, browns, salmons, mochas to even some greys. This is due to the blood supply to the eye, the colors of the membranes, and how the iris blends into the sclera. Also, the border between the iris and sclera isn’t always crisp, clean and perfectly oval. Sometimes it can indeed be mottled, blended, irregular or patchy in places. Closely study eyes on living horses and in photos to get a better idea of these details.

Tips For Painting Sclera

Be sure that grey line of the trabeculae is present as it’s really obvious when the eye is rolled forwards or backwards, upwards or downwards.
Study how eyewhites vary in position and degree, depending on the horse’s different head positions, focus of interest, and expressions.
Ironically, the less white you lean into when painting sclera, the more realistic the eye will appear whereas the more you lean into white, the more cartoony the eye will appear. So try not to to use straight white for sclera as it’s too stark. Mute it with Burnt Umber and Burnt Sienna to soften it and make it more flesh-like.

Painting Sclera

You can paint your sclera before painting the iris or afterwards, your choice. However, I recommend painting it first so you can better place your pupil later.
Good colors to start with for painting sclera are Titanium White, Burnt Sienna, Burnt Umber, Raw Umber, Black (warm, cool, or neutral) and Taupe.
To start, mix Titanium White and Burnt Sienna with just a scootch of Burnt Umber together, producing a medium pale muted pink; this is your standard mix. Paint this onto the eye in the location you wish to create your target expression, staying mindful of the iris’ oval shape.
Take a small portion of this mixture and deepen it by adding a bit more Burnt Sienna. Add this darkened color to either “tail” of the eyewhite to lend dimension. You can also add in a teensy bit of Burnt Umber or Raw Umber to this mix as well for variation.
Take a small portion of the standard mix and lighten it by adding more Titanium White. Thin this mixture a little bit with water and paint tiny blotches or streaks in the middle, between the deeply pinked “tails.”
If your reference calls for it, mix up some Titanium White and black to make a soft grey and add in some grey splotches…or salmon colored or brown, depending on your reference.
Then neatly dab in the lacrimal caruncle with the appropriate color as shown by your references.
If you wish, use a thinned deep pink mixture (Burnt Sienna and Titanium White) and mix in a bit of Burnt Umber and use this mix to delicately line the outer rim of the third eyelid, defining it. Just be careful not to create Appaloosa-like sclera on a non-appy as this might be off-type. Also, be sure to avoid making the third eyelid too exposed or large since this would indicate injury or disease. Keep it subtle and small. Again refer to your references for guidance, and be mindful of its color varieties.
Extra points: Take a small portion of the standard mix and mix in Burnt Sienna or Burnt Umber or some such color to create a burgundy-red to create little capillaries criss-crossing your sclera. Don’t go overboard, just two or three teensy ones will do. This isn’t a necessary detail as it’s not always apparent, but it’s a fun one.

You want to avoid four things when painting eyes. First, be sure to not create a “braille” eyeball with lots of brush strokes and dollops of color. Keep your paint thin enough to be smooth on the eyeball. Second, don’t be afraid to use drying retardants for your paint if they’re available. They might make your job easier, especially for acrylics. Third, keep the details on your eyeball clear and distinct so you don’t end up with a confusing mess. Precision and clean lines are your friends when painting eyes. And fourth, don’t veer off-tone with your eyes, but stay true to your reference. It’s easy to get caught up in the business of painting an eye, but stay on target by checking against your references regularly.

Conclusion to Part II

Phew, that was a giant, big ol’ bite, wasn’t it? But hopefully it was a satiating one, an amuse-bouche and full course meal all in one! But perhaps it’s becoming clear to you how important quality reference photos actually are to work from. Essentially, you’re dead in the water with out them! They’re your guides, your clues, your mentors, and your gospels to the point where your paintwork will only be as good as your best reference photo. In this way, your weakest link isn’t your developing skillset, it’s the quality of your references which is exactly why our artists typically have legions of reference photos collected over the years in ginormous personal libraries. When working in realism, good, reliable references are simply fundamental to the creation of authentic work, as important as the materials you use and the archival workmanship you apply. So put a lot of thought into what references you’re using for any given project because, yeah—it makes a monumental difference in the outcome. On that note, images generated by “AI” are always—always—inappropriate to use so avoid them like the plague. They’re simply always wrong and will make you recreate errors. Here's a good list of horse color references you can confidently use for painting, compiled by Lesli Kathman. Anyhoo, we’ll continue our exploration of more special effects in Part III. Don’t miss it!

"Painting is easy when you don't know how, but very difficult when you do.”

— Edgar Degas

Special Effects: How to Create Tricky Aspects of Horse Color for Beginners Part I

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Wed, 26 Nov 2025 17:50:00 +0000

Introduction to Part I

Many of us love the arting aspect of equine collectibles. We love collecting it, admiring it, promoting it, exploring it, showing it, and perhaps most of all, creating it. Truly, art constitutes the very foundation of everything we do within the genre, doesn't it? Everything about model horses is art-centric! And diving into our arts is so satisfying, too, on so many levels. To bring your own visions to life, to make real your imaginations just pings so many good things in your personal experience! Truly, art and horses just go together, don’t they?

Yet while sculpting realistic equines is hard enough…painting them? Uffdah. Now there’s a job and a half! Why is that? Why is painting realistic horses so darned challenging? Well, for starters there’s a kaleidoscope of coat colors and patterns to tackle. Indeed, one could spend a lifetime trying to paint them all and still pull up short. We also have to wrestle with artistic style and keep it in balance with realism, a delicate enough tightrope. Then there’s the whole array of coat, hair, and horn effects that need special attention to nail down in pigment, demanding a deep skillset with an uncommonly perceptive Eye. As if that weren't enough, there's actually mastering the media and techniques, which is a whole can of worms all by itself. There’s this, too, unlike realistically sculpting our subject, which is just duplicating what’s there, painting entails a great deal of interpretive judgment calls, of creating illusions when literal translations fail.

But perhaps the most pesky aspect is this: Get one thing wrong in pigment, and the entire illusion can bust apart. Really, even if everything else is amazing, one stumble in a paintjob can compromise the entire illusion and the bubble is popped. Because that’s what painting realistic equines is about — the suspension of disbelief so that for a moment, no matter how fleeting, our brain is tricked into perceiving an actual horse. That’s the grail, right? That hyper-degree of realism that stuns our senses?

All this adds up to one thing: Our artform is pretty tough on beginners. They literally have to hit the ground running just to keep up. Even worse, our showing paradigm isn’t so conducive to their skill set either, mostly lacking novice and non-pro classes. For the most part then, they’re thrown in with the pros right out of the gate, something that isn’t the most fair or viable means to sustain all this in the long run. In short, our showing system disenfranchises the very people it should be serving most. But the good news is that this art form is all learnable with some know-how, tricks, and a whole lotta practice. Now to that, there are some little aspects of painting that can be especially tricky to reproduce in pigment, so let’s talk about some of them in the hopes of giving beginners a leg up that tall, fidgety horse. Plus, there’s lots of little tricks we can implement to more easily push realism pretty far in our pigment or heighten the novelty of our interpretation, so we’ll look at some of those as well.

So wrap it all up and let’s explore all this at the beginner level in this six-part series, especially those aspects of horse color that can be particularly difficult to reproduce. Then after you get a handle on these effects, you can adopt more advanced methods to achieve even better results. But we all have to start somewhere, right? We all need a springboard to just dive in! So 3...2...1...let's go!...

Hoof Striping

Striped hooves can be a bit touchy to reproduce. If we study painted striped hooves, we find that a few run the gamut of either looking too simplified, too ”powdery,” too dark, too literal, or too fake looking or “painted on” rather than looking like grown, pigmented horn. See, hoof stripes are streaks of pigmentation within the hoof tubules that run lengthwise down the hoof. As such, they have a transparent, embedded quality like a bruise under the skin. And they don't necessarily have to run completely down to the ground but can stop, often about 3/4 down the hoof as is sometimes caused by wear and tear, or by the farrier rasping the hoof during a trim. And hoof stripes vary in intensities, even within the same stripe, and in width, even on the same hoof. So gather yourself some good reference photos to work from and study them closely. Look for their very specific qualities and how they’re rather transparent in a sense that you can see a lot of detail in them, just as much as on the pale areas of the hoof. We want to mimic that effect best we can. (It should be noted that hoof striping is dependent on the color and pattern present so make sure all that matches if you choose to paint them on.)

Okay, so first complete the pale colors on your intended hoof as they should be done when you start striping…so now let’s apply striping:

Use a black such as Mars Black (a warm brown-toned black that’s very opaque) or Ivory Black (a cool blue-toned black that’s transparent) or Carbon Black (a true neutral black that’s opaque), whichever your reference requires or which you prefer.
Try not to use pure black but cut it with a bit of grey or taupe to create a charcoal. Then thin that paint down to the consistency of fat free milk so it’s more of a wash.
Now take a small round brush with a good tip and longish bristles to hold a good well of paint, dip into the paint and dab out the excess, then run the brush carefully down the hoof following the dorsal wall of the hoof, following the hoof tubules. Go with a steady hand so you create a straight edge then let that dry.
Go over certain areas to darken some portions of the stripe or to darken other stripes to contrast each other. Practice at it and refer back to your references often.
Do some clean up if need be.
Extra points: Go back in after it’s all dry to add in little details like tiny striations or streaking.

There are four things you want to avoid with hoof striping. First, don’t make the stripes too dark as to appear painted on rather than “grown” and embedded. Now they can be variegated dark in areas, just not over the whole thing evenly or it’ll look a bit fake. They need to look organic and "embedded." Also don’t make them too grey as, again, that’ll appear painted-on rather than looking like real horn. Keep that tone in the charcoal zone. You want the striping transparent so the details of the pale hoof still show, and too much white — of turning that charcoal too light grey — will obliterate that effect. Second, and this is incredibly important, don’t create crooked stripes. Absolutely, be sure to keep the stripes parallel to the dorsal wall of the hoof and the heel and to each other. Any deviation or crookedness indicates a problem with the hoof tubules, and that’s a big problem in a real hoof. Then third, avoid opacity in the striping. Now granted, some grooms actually paint the hoof stripes with black or brown hoof polish, but that’s relatively rare. In most cases, what we want to do is recreate that “bruised” look, that embedded look of pigment within the horn rather than pigment sitting on top, and that requires transparency and lots of adjustment layering. And fourth, avoid regimentation. The striping has to look like an organic “luck of the draw.” Also be mindful of any ermine spots on the coronet that would birth a stripe, for instance, so pay close attention to your references in that regard, too. Just keep in mind that certain patterns and Appaloosas have sorta their own rules with hoof striping and you can learn more about that here and here and here. (In fact, The Equine Tapestry blog and archive blog are tremendous resources for you!)

Beauty Marks

Beauty Marks are those spots of dark pigment on a pink muzzle. They often occur with pintos and some appaloosas, but can happen with many white facial patterns really. Yet beauty marks can be difficult to reproduce because of the muzzle's velvety texture and soft, fleshy look. So again, we want to avoid a painted-on, fake look or one that’s too harsh that would obliterate the velvety effect of the real thing. To paint beauty marks then, try this progression:

Choose your black based on what your reference is telling you—warm black (Mars Black), cool black (Ivory Black), or neutral black (Carbon Black).
Soften that black with a grey or taupe to dampen its harshness.
Take a dab of this smokey grey color and lighten it more with Titanium White or Soft White until it's a light grey that matches the mapping color in your reference. Add in some Raw Umber or Burnt Umber to warm if it if needed. Then thin this lightened mixture down a bit, to a whole milk consistency.
With a small round brush dip in and dab out the excess then boop beauty marks onto the muzzle where you wish, careful not to create runs, brushmarks, or “braille spots” (elevated blobs of paint). Be sure to use a good reference photo to stay on track.
Once dry, repeat the process but with a slightly darker version of that charcoal color, booping this color into the middle of the light grey area, leaving a rim of that light grey which becomes the mapping of the beauty spot. And be sure to make this dark spot opaque with no bald spots or it won’t read right.
Extra points: Include “shadow” beauty spots for kicks (beauty spots without a blackened center).

You want to avoid five things with beauty spots. First, don’t have the paint too thick as this will create those unwanted “braille spots” of raised paint. You want your pigment flush and smooth with the surface. Yet you also don’t want your paint too transparent as to be see-through and patchy. There’s a Goldilocks Zone of consistency which you’ll find simply by painting a lot of beauty marks so practice on a junker model first. Second, avoid regimentation or a cookie-cutter look to your beauty marks. They need to look organic, randomized, and “grown,” not artificial and fake looking by being too evenly sized and spaced. So work from good reference photos to stay on target and try not to apply too much artistic license. Third, be careful not to paint over your mapping with the dark color since so many beauty marks are mapped. Now, yes, some aren’t, so follow your references, but overall, try to maintain that mapping’s integrity. Fourth, don’t create a randomly shaped beauty mark within that mapping. In other words, you want your darker pigment to mirror the shape of the lighter perimeter so it actually looks like real mapping, not like a spot painted within another spot. And fifth, avoid a painted-on and fake look by keeping your tones soft and muted so your beauty spot will appear velvety and fleshy.

Mapping

Mapping around pinto markings, any facial or leg markings or even appaloosa spotting is a little bit tedious but it’s not too difficult. Now to start, your paint job and markings and spots intended for mapping should all be done. In other words, this mapping technique is among the last steps to finishing up a paint job.

To create mapping, try this approach:

Use Titanium White or Soft White and thin it down to Fat Free Milk consistency.
Then using a small round brush with a good point (with longish bristles so it holds a goodly well of pigment), dip it into the paint and dab out the excess, and trace along the rim of your pattern, marking, or spot, going onto the solid color a bit to “stain” it with the thinned white paint. Bam—you have your mapping.
Be sure to follow your references to guide you because mapping often varies in width and intensity over different parts of the body so be sensitive to those variations.
Extra points: Play with different types of brushwork or directional dabbing to mimic the hair growth patterns or mottling often found in mapping so play around with it a bit to get a feel for the method.

You want to achieve three prime directives with your mapping. First, keep the quality of the transparency consistent. You don’t want your paint to become too opaque to just become like normal white paint but you don’t want to too washy as to not be potent enough or cause dripping or pooling. Mapping’s painting consistency has a Goldilocks Zone you have to learn, so again, practice on a junker to learn the feel of it. Second, keep your hand steady! You don’t want a messy line of mapping so take your time. Third, pay attention to areas of eccentricity in the mapping as those are nice touches of realism and novelty for your paintjob. Like notice areas where it’s more smudged, ticked, or mottled and try to mimic that in your paintjob. And fourth, keep the mapping white within the colored areas when dealing with pinked-in areas such as the groin, elbow, flank, etc. because a little white halo around your colored areas will be an error. Here’s a tip: When there are lots of spots in the pinked areas in the groin and up to the tail, say with an appaloosa, try the beauty mark technique instead. That way you don't have to worry about the white halo effect on those spots.

Conclusion to Part I

And so we kick off this six-part series with a wad of good stuff to chew on! There’s a lot more to come so hold on and enjoy the ride! Indeedy, we have a lot to get through and here’s to hoping you find some of it helpful to kick start a new developmental stage for you. Because sometimes all it takes is a little random insight to burst open a new artistic breakthrough and…bam!…off you go!

Because here’s the thing: Beginners really don’t have a fair shake in our genre with how our shows are structured, for the most part. Novice and non-pro divisions are too far and few between. Perhaps someday that’ll change, but until then, anything we can all do to help our beginners along is our obligation to the community. We owe it to ourselves to give the next generation of artists a hefty leg up! (Recommended reading: Beginner's Top Ten)

In that spirit then, we’ll dive into Part II next time around, so until then…remember, all you need to excel is practice, a game plan, curiosity, some insights, and lots of love! Mix that all up, and you’re well on your way to vast improvements and developmental leaps! So jump! Ka-boing!

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”

— Thomas Merton

Beating The Workshop Blues: Creating A Positive Classroom Experience

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 16 Nov 2025 18:41:00 +0000

Introduction

In October, I took a mosaic lamp-making workshop I found online and figured, “What the heck! Why not?” It was two hours of gluing pretty colored glass onto a lamp globe to make one of those beautiful Turkish-Moroccan swan lamps I love so much. You take it home and wait 24 hours for the glue to dry then grout it so the colored glass will really pop with the light. We were seated with random strangers, too, all working together at a table, and I was lucky enough to get a really good group of ladies that made it all so much fun!

But I’ve done mosaic before so this was a familiar skillset though it was a little bit wild doing it all on the fly because I couldn’t plot things out on the glass globe with a pen ahead of time. But I made it work! So while I glued away, I was also observing how each gal interacted with their own creative experience. These were crafty gals, you could tell — none of them were unfamiliar with arting — but what they were was unfamiliar with mosaic and, in particular, having a two hour time limit. By observing them then, I learned quite a bit about the workshop mindset that inspired me to ponder it a bit more. Like I’m an old hat with classes — I’m a workshop rat. But it occurred to me that many people aren't and maybe they'd benefit from some insights, and in this burgeoning era of Breyerfest workshops and Zoom classes, in particular, I thought this discussion was even more timely. You see, the learning experience is as much an emotional one as an intellectual one, but we can't learn so effectively if our emotions are blocking our data processing. What's more, our emotions also come to the front in the social setting of a classroom so awareness of our inner landscape can really grease the interaction gears to our benefit. So with all this in mind, let’s talk about my top ten tips for having a great classroom experience to put you on the best trajectory for a great time!…

#1 Don't Paint-By-Numbers

Remember that the class example is just the class example — it’s not the end all and be all of examples! It looks perfect to you because you’re a newb, but the truth is, it isn’t. It’s just the guiding example and not the paint-by-numbers goal. So if your sculpture or paintwork or medallion or whatever doesn’t look exactly like the class example — great! That means you were doing your job correctly, as commanded by the Universe. How so? Well, it means you were making that class example yours with your own unique magic, which is exactly the proper task at hand. To discover and use your own Voice is the genuine vocation of every true artist, so congratulations! You took the new techniques, ideas, and tools and made them yours — good job! Mission accomplished!

So don’t fret if your piece isn’t like the one on the pedestal. It shouldn’t be. It’s supposed to be a reflection of you and your own unique superpowers! And notice how everyone’s own interpretation is so different from yours and that class example, in turn? Well, that’s each of their superpowers at work! What a marvelous thing!

For example, in the lamp-making class, there was a lady who was really struggling and making herself miserable because she was so consumed with making her mosaic lamp globe look exactly like the demonstrative example. Instead, learn to let it all go and focus on making your own interpretation, however it pans out to be. Sure it’s nice to have something you admire so much, but sometimes the Universe has different ideas for you — allow that to happen. When you do, more times than not, you not only have a better experience, you have a more meaningful outcome.

#2 Don’t Chase Windmills

Look—perfection is impossible. We’re fallible humans using fallible materials in fallible circumstances, so imperfection is simply “an inevitability, Mr. Anderson.” So embrace it! Wabi-sabi, baby! Ease up on yourself then because you’re really doing better than you think!

And remember, you’re here to learn something new and to have a creative adventure, not make something perfect! Hey, to brass tacks it down to practicalities — you just don't have the time, do you? It's a logistical impossibility simply because you're on the clock. So don’t get your priorities hosed up otherwise you’re going to miss some very important insights and a memorable experience. Rather than fixating on making things “perfect" then, focus instead on the lessons you’re being taught, tactically asking questions that'll jumpstart your development. You see, myopically focusing on how “perfect” you can make something in a class is playing the short game — try not to do that. It’s the tortoise who won the race with the long game, remember? Focus more on the experience then, not the end product so much, at least so frantically.

See, here’s the thing: A classroom setting just isn’t the time or place to focus on doing your perfect best. Leave that effort for your studio. Why? Because if you’re too focused on getting things “just so,” you’re going to miss many of the more important lessons because you’ll be too distracted. For instance, I’ve seen so many students so focused on getting a certain body part "perfect" that they’re literally missing what the instructor is teaching at that moment. Like who cares if your ear isn't perfect! Do you really want to miss what the instructor is telling you about the legs right now? So use your instructor’s time well by listening to their lessons rather than listening to that little Perfection Gremlin inside your head. Leave that annoying little turkey at home. Don't allow it to distract you from the real treasures to be had in class!

Now when it comes to the imperfections you'll inevitably be creating, simply use this explanation: “They’re like that." And they are...our class pieces are just like that, full of quirks. Really, that’s the best bit of philosophy I can offer when it comes to this sort of thing. So embrace that philosophy and you'll roll with the punches a lot better and keep your focus where it needs to be...on the lessons.

#3 Work On The Fly

Learn to wing things best you can when needed. Like be adaptive and resourceful in how you accommodate a lack of guidance if the instructor is indisposed with someone else. And even more, if you go off-track, be bold in finding your way back out of the weeds. Indeed, all this is a great opportunity to apply what you’ve learned in new ways! Just try not to seize up in a panic. Problem-solve, regroup, restrategize! Indeed, there’s a lot of truly rare and great lessons to be found in this alone. All art entails problem-solving re-evaluations so if you cannot find your way out of a proverbial paper bag in your arting, now’s the time to learn! Because — yes — a lot about what we do is based on formulas, habits, conventions, processes, calculations, proportions, mapping, biology and physiology, genetics, and all that sort of structured stuff. As such, it can be really easy to feel lost if we think we’re flying blind with any of it. The structure feels safe when we’re already feeling a bit insecure in this new learning situation. But don’t worry! Just roll with the punches and adapt to the situation best you can until you can get the instructor’s input. Because always remember that you have an experienced mentor right there to help you, an incredible resource, so don’t be afraid to ask for help. That’s what they’re there for! But if you can problem-solve your own way out successfully, all the better because you will have engaged and evolved in your learning, a major step forwards! Go, you!

For instance, a gal at a mosaic lamp-making class I attended got into the weeds with her pattern not matching up at the terminal ends. Instead of panicking and vapor-locking over the imperfection though, she made the best of it with some on-the-fly adaptable adjustments, finishing her piece and making a truly beautiful mosaic lamp globe. And the thing is no one is going to even notice or care about the adaption once it’s all lit up and gorgeous!

#4 Consider The Clock

Most classroom settings have a timer going — never forget that. You're on the clock. This is why not focusing on perfection and being adaptive are so important: You don’t get distracted and waste that precious class time! You’re there to learn, right, to digest all the lessons? Well, every minute counts! Ask questions. Have discussions. Pay attention. And just as much, cherish this time in this new experience, with your instructor and your fellow students. You’re making special memories so savor the moment — be present.

For example, in a mosaic lamp-making class, many of the participants were so consumed with getting certain beads glued on to the lamp globe just so — in an unreasonably hyper-picky way — that their time ran out and they never finished their mosaic. So I suggested they take some beads home and finish at home, which they did. The point is though, remember the limited minutes you have to work and quickly gauge what you can feasibly accomplish in that time span — and then plow forwards and rock on!

#5 Maintain Perspective

Try not to focus on what you’re making in the class so much, to a fault that is. Instead, focus on what you can learn from the instructor. It’s their unique knowledge base and insights you’re after, right? Not how many cups you can create in their class. So again…ask questions. Take on challenges to be guided by your instructor. Get in the weeds to find your way out with their guidance. Make those mistakes with the instructor right there to help you. Pick their brain best you can, ask ample questions. Make it weird.

For instance, when I was taking a clay throwing class, I made a very difficult pitcher that required pulling over five pounds of clay in a tricky shape for a newb like me. It was actually way more than I was ready for, but i wanted the challenge and I wanted to make the mistakes with my teacher right there to help me problem-solve. And I did it! I made a beautiful pitcher with my instructor giving me pointers along the way, pointers I wouldn’t have gotten had I not jumped off the cliff! This is the power of staying focused on what’s important in the class: The knowledge, not the stuff.

#6 Build Memory Lane

Along those lines, consider this: Learning can be fun — a lot of fun! And learning and creating with a bunch of like-minded folks can be such an affirming experience! So in that spirit, lend your focus on living in the experience, of making the memory awesome. Workshops are such special times for so many wonderful reasons — don’t forget to be cognizant of that as you work.

For example, I have the fondest memories of my workshops across the country over the years from Taos to Glenn’s Ferry. Such incredible adventures in so many ways! I will treasure those experiences forever not only as an enrichment of my knowledge base, but a shiny buffer of my creative soul and a lively kaleidoscope of memories for my life story.

#7 Lift Yourself Up

Try not to put your piece or your efforts down. Don’t be your own worst enemy! Remember, you’re trying something new and scary — look how brave and amazing you’re being! You should be proud of yourself, not beating yourself up! And yes — we’re all our own worst critic. Well, stop that. Become your own best cheerleader, mentor, and advocate! Speak to yourself as a loving guide rather than as a berating jerk. And yeah — no — your piece isn’t perfect. But no one’s piece is perfect in the class anyway! Heck, neither is the class example perfect! Nothing is! The truth is you’re doing far better than you think so don’t let the pressures and your lofty expectations get the better of you to spoil the experience. Put yourself on that throne where you belong because gosh darn it — you’re doing an amazing thing and that deserves a hearty round of kudos!

For instance, there was a lady in my lamp-making class who kept putting her efforts down. I mean, she really dug into herself. But the truth is, her mosaic globe turned out absolutely gorgeous with its autumnal colors and fancy pattern! It was one of the best at the table! When that thing is lit up, it’s going to glow like a big beautiful, sparkly sun! I wish she could’ve seen her globe the way the rest of us did, it would’ve been good for her soul.

#8 Embrace Your Peers

One of the very best things about a classroom is being in the social situation of it all. That’s to say, beyond the awesomeness of your teacher, there’s also your fellow students — they’re your teachers, too! In many ways to tell the truth, a class is only as good as your fellow students. The conversation they offer, the questions they ask, the problems they run into, the insights they offer, the experience they bring to the table, their charming company — it’s a magical alchemy that just makes the workshop atmosphere absolutely addictive. So keep your heart open, your curiosity eager, and your sensibilities kind when immersed in the very social dynamic of a classroom. And hey, you might even be lucky enough to make a new friend or two!

For example, in a Zahourek equine anatomy workshop I took years ago, the class was loaded with veterinarians and body workers who asked the most amazing questions that generated super-rare insights not often — or ever — found in anatomy books. Their presence enriched my learning experience and bolstered my knowledge base in ways I could never have anticipated! What’s more, in one of my handbuilding clay classes, I made a fast connection with two ladies and we exchanged email addresses. We conspired to take more classes together not just to learn more, but to learn more….together! Such a win win!

#9 Curiosity Is The Cure

On that note, never be afraid to ask questions of not only your instructor, but of the other students, too. Engage. Participate. Stay curious. There is an enormous reservoir of experience and information at your beckon call in that classroom, so dip your toes in! If ever there was a setting to allow your curiosity to run rampant, it's in a classroom!

What's more, curiosity is the balm for fear. It's so easy to succumb to fear in a classroom setting between our newb-ness and being surrounded by strangers. It's a natural and normal human reaction...but this would be exactly the wrong reaction to have. You see, that classroom and all the information it contains is there for the taking, by design, and it's our curiosity that compels us to reach out and snatch it. In this way, classes bring out the best of us, don't they? Not just the best of our skills and Voice, but just as much, the best of our inner landscape by teaching us valuable life lessons we'll take with us out into the world. Embrace them.

#10 The Big Picture

Above it all, remember that a classroom should first be fun! Learning should be a blast, not some dreadful drudgery. You should be excited for your class, eager to dive in and get into artistic shenanigans and creative adventures loaded with new insights! It should be about a journey of discovery and curiosity, of taking a risk or two, of maybe even biting off more than you can chew with the ready-instructor right there to help! Make it a thrilling, enticing learning safari and you’ll definitely be in the right mindset for any classroom right off the bat!

For instance, I bit off a snidge more than I could chew for my newbie oil painting chops when I painted my skin-first light grey paintjob in Heather Bullach’s grey painting class in October 2025. But I did that on purpose as I wanted to get in the weeds to find my way out with Heather’s help. In essence, I set myself up for failure to learn from that — and did I get upset or scared or miserable? No! I was so curious and eager to try this grand experiment, I simply jumped in all enthusiasm and openness — and lemme tell ya, that made all the difference! The truth is, learning is tremendously fun and addictive if you frame it properly — as an adventure to be explored as a “damp sponge,” not something anxiety-inducing. Remember, nothing you make is precious in a learning situation because it’s the lessons that matter, not the thing. And the truth is, most things you make, you can re-make, you can even fix many of them. You’re the creator here! And even if you get into trouble with your piece, what an incredible learning opportunity of unexpected lessons from the teacher! Or, on the other hand, maybe your piece took you on a completely different direction — they do that sometimes — because the Universe simply had other learning intentions for you. Anyway, the point is, ease up. Try not to pressure yourself so much and focus more on the enjoyable experience rather than getting distracted by things that really don’t matter as much in the grand scheme of things.

On that note, always thank your teacher at the end of the class. They put a ton of thought and work into constructing it for you and that at least deserves a heartfelt acknowledgment. It's absolutely no easy thing to host classes and workshops! It can really be quite the undertaking, to tell the truth. So show your thanks...it's important.

Now on another note, don't be afraid to show off your completed class piece to the world. Hey — you worked hard on it, right? You met the challenges and tackled the hiccups like a boss! Even more, you created something new that's never existed before — what an amazing accomplishment! So showcase it with a happy "look what I did" spin! It's important to embrace the pride you feel in your achievement and it's absolutely a delight to see others hold up their pieces and say, "I did this!" It's good for you, it's good for our community, and it might just inspire others to dive into the classroom experience, too!

Conclusion

Your mindset when you’re immersed in a learning situation, especially like one as highly social as a classroom, is everything in defining the quality of your experience! It can literally make or break your time there! Honestly, if you go into a classroom already distracted by negativity, fear, or perfectionism, you’re gonna have a problem. But go into it with the spirit of discovery, curiosity, and cheer, and you’ll find that your memory will be a happier and more productive one. So give it some due consideration as you careen into that exciting journey. And if you find yourself sliding into problematic emotional territory, step back and check yourself, maybe even have a needed peptalk chat with the someone dear to you, or even the instructor or fellow student. They might have some helpful insights to reassure any uncertainties of yours. The thing is, we’re all going to have some choppy waters in a learning situation at some point, and it’s how we navigate them that will make all the difference.

As more classes pop up in our genre I hope you’re inspired to take a couple, actually to take a lot! I truly hope that classes become just as much a part of the model horse experience as showing and collecting! Why? Because I cannot describe what an amazing experience it actually is, whether through Zoom or at a bricks ’n’ mortar class. Indeed, it’s not only enriching on a personal level, but it bolsters our community in countless ways, building bonds and solidifying our social foundations. We’re so scattered around the world, aren’t we? Yet the humble classroom can be such a great town square we can gather at together to socially carouse, learn as a group, discuss and yap, and artistically explore within a support structure. It’s more like a bit of a party that just happens to involve art!

So take a deep breath and sign up for that class that's been tickling your curiosity! Then as you prepare your model for it, don’t forget to prepare yourself as well. If you slide into that fun in the right frame of mind, you’ll definitely avoid the workshop blues to instead have a stellar and addictive experience that not only kicks your skills up a notch or two, but impacts your heart in all the best ways! See you in class!

“Learning is experience. Everything else is just information.”

— Albert Einstein

Color Conniptions: Learning How To See Color Accurately

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Thu, 06 Nov 2025 17:57:00 +0000

Introduction

Believe it or not, how we perceive color isn’t as objective as we might think. In fact, it can be downright subjective even despite our best efforts to pinpoint accuracy. Like do you remember that great social media debate about The Dress back in 2015? Some folks saw it as a white dress with gold banding while some saw it as a blue dress with black banding. Heck, Lady Gaga saw it as periwinkle with tan banding! And oh!…the back and forth on the color of this infamous dress! But the disparity of perception of this one image just goes to prove how people can interpret color — can interpret reality — quite differently and at no fault of their own. Like for this situation, it largely boiled down to whether someone's brain applied a yellow-tone filter (to see a blue dress) or a blue-tone filter (to see a white dress) to see their own version.

Of course then, this brings us to how we perceive both horse color and our paint colors when targeting our references and hues. Because really, we want to recreate an authentic depiction of a horse color, right? We want to nail that tone and hue, yes? We want that bingo! But how do we even know we’re doing this correctly if our perception of color could be skewed right under our noses? What if our brain is hosing up our perception of color unbeknownst to us? Indeed, some people seem to have difficulty discerning the nuances of tonal shifts and so miss their mark despite their best intentions. So let’s talk about some tricks and some ideas when it comes to pinpointing color so we have the best shot possible at hitting our targets more confidently…

Lighting

Lighting is everything when it comes to targeting color! Whether it’s the lighting in the photograph or the lighting in your studio, pay keen attention to its characteristics.

In your photos, in particular, it’s important to discern the nature of the lighting presented to the photographer at the time the image was shot. Morning light, afternoon light, evening light, night light — it all makes a huge difference. So yeah, it’s not quite as simple as “choose natural light” as it actually has many different varieties. For example, morning light can shift color into the blue spectrum whereas evening light can shift things into the red spectrum and low light will even "grey out" color all together. Afternoon light is about as neutral as you can get, however, you do have to contend with strong obscuring shadows. Then at night, a flash is often used, washing color out completely with flash glare. So when is the best time to snap pix? Around 10am-11am on a clear day is usually a best-of-all-worlds situation. Now many folks prefer an overcast day, and they would also be right. However, I find that overcast days dampen a coat’s intrinsic glow as those light rays don’t really bounce off the hair shafts so strongly, yet capturing that resultant bloom can be just as important as reproducing the correct tone for a color to read best.

Now as for our studio lighting, we have more control over that, but it’s no less complicated. For instance, the different settings on an adjustable studio light can have different effects on how color looks to us on our palettes and our models. Or if we use more than one light, if they aren’t the same type of light or the same “temperature” of light, our brain will get confused and misinterpret tones. To that end then, stick with lamps that project natural daylight but have adjustable brightness, not adjustable types of light or “temperatures” of light. In particular, I highly recommend the RedGrass studio lamp. It’s terrific and helps you really target color accurately with the neutral light it projects. It also has adjustable brightness which is very handy. It’s not cheap though at $279.99 plus shipping. But to me, it was worth every penny because it really helped me target difficult colors like grullas, silvers, and liver chestnuts much more accurately. However, for a cheaper alternative, consider an Ottlite which is almost as good at a fraction of the price.

But what do I mean by the "temperature" of the light? Well, many LED lights nowadays have a "warm," "cool," and "natural" setting with warm shifting to the reds, cool shifting to the blues, and natural being more neutral. As such, it's important to always choose the most neutral setting on your lamps and set them all to that same setting. This will help give us the most baseline, consistent, neutral setting to calibrate our colors on our palette. Now if you're still using incandescent bulbs, know that they shift to the warm spectrum, the red and yellow spectrum, and adjust accordingly.

However, the relative brightness or darkness of our image matters, too. Some images are just too bright or "blown out" which erases critical information and washes out color. On the other hand, images that are too dark erase critical information by washing it out in dark shadows while skewing color too dark or richly toned. This issue can be encountered a lot as many photographers manipulate their photos to be too light or too dark for artistic impact, and it's up to us to know the difference. More still, the use of a flash will typically blow out images so be mindful of their use as well.

White Balance

The white balance in a photo is incredibly important for us to consider when we’re deciphering our reference images. Indeed, that whole dress debate on social media all boiled down to an incorrect white balance used to take the photo in the first place.

Now if you’re taking the photos yourself, you can tweak your camera settings to achieve a more truthful white balance before you even snap that photo. So read up on your manual to know how to adjust your white balance settings. You can also use a white or grey card to calibrate your camera for an even more accurate setting.

But more times than not, we have to deal with photos we didn’t take, don’t we? So how do we know if the white balance is correct in a reference we didn’t shoot? Well, if those whites or light greys in the image aren't pure, we have a white balance problem. So how do we fix it? Luckily, we can do that when post-processing the photo, preparing it to be used as a reference. Indeed, it’s not enough to just take any old reference and use it! You need to adjust it, to prepare it for use as a reference, or that’s to say, you need to make sure its white balance is on point first. So to do that, you use the white balance eye dropper tool many photo editor programs have. What you do is click on a white or grey area of your image and the program will do the rest to adjust everything else back to neutral. There's also often an "auto color" option to click that adjusts the whites in your image. However, if you don’t have such tools, you can always adjust the “temperature” of the image manually in the color balance setting. The “temperature” refers to how cool (bluish, cyanish, or greenish) or warm (reddish, yellowish, or magenta-ish) an image leans. Alternately, you can make further adjustments in the selective saturation tool by desaturating reds or blues, greens or yellows to neutralize an image. Any which way, what you’re trying to do is have your whites look more purely white rather than have a skewed cast to them. So aim for whiter whites, and you’ll come closer to correcting the color balance of your reference.

Meanwhile, check out this very useful YouTube video on adjusting the white balance in your photos: This Simple Editing Trick Helps Correct White Balance in ANY Photo

Take the Test

We fundamentally need to know if our eyes are even processing color correctly, right? There are many forms of color blindness so we have to confirm if we have one so take a colorblind test just to make sure.

Also consider taking something like a Farnsworth Munsell 100 Hue Test to make sure your brain is calibrating color correctly. We need to know if our brain can detect the subtle shifts of color so intrinsic to reproducing horse coats accurately. And don't worry if it's a bit off...many people's calibration is slightly off. Plus our computer monitors work against us, too, right? So it's okay, no worries! Like my score for that Farnswoth Munsell based test was 2 (0 is a perfect score) because I have a blindspot in the peachy ranges. So now I know I need to work a little harder with peachy colors like apricot duns, pearls, isabellas, and wild bays to compensate.

And here's a whole discussion on color and how the brain processes it! It's fascinating!

Calibration

Many artists work directly from tablets nowadays because of the crisp and expandable image, but just be sure to calibrate your monitors so that the colors they portray as as truthful as possible. Here's how to calibrate your monitor for that. Also set the colorspace to sRGB which is the most common colorspace setting for digital displays. And don't forget to adjust the brightness and contrast settings to help display true colors in your image.

Print Outs

Working from printouts is tricky due to low quality inks or incorrect color balances or the inkjet process muting color or even pixelating details. If you must work from a print out though, it's best to print the image on quality photo paper to max out the color saturation and to help keep the image as crisp as possible. In other words, don't use regular printer paper as your image will be washed out and lack crispness.

Color Temperature

Many colors embody a “temperature,” or how “warm” or “cool” they are. Specifically, how bluish a color skews is referred to as a “cool” shift whereas how red a color skews is referred to as a “warm” shift. As such, blues, greens, and teals are “cool” in their shift while reds, yellows, and oranges are “warm” in their shift, in very simple terms. Burgundies, purples, browns, golds, tans, and muds can also be either cool or warm, depending on which way they lean. For instance, Burnt Umber is a “warm” brown whereas Raw Umber is a “cool” brown. Mix them together and you get a more neutral brown, which is super handy for mixes. Now it does get more complicated, as even yellows, oranges, and reds can be cool or warm, so for more discussion on color temperature, refer to these past blog posts:

Fire And Ice: The Power Of A Warm And Cool Palette

A Cacophony of Color: The Magic of Unlikely Pigments

Pop n’ Glow: Waking Up Your Paintwork With Color

Black Magic: A Versatile Powerhouse

Suffice to say, being able to target the temperature of the colors you’re using not only helps you match colors more accurately, but also helps you avoid creating mud unintentionally. Like if you mix a warm color with a cool color, you’re going to get mud. So, for example, if you mix a cool red with a warm yellow, you aren’t going to get a vibrant orange, but a muddier orange as the temperatures clash. So to keep your colors vibrant and "clean," lean into mixing cool with cool and warm with warm.

That said, however, sometimes you’ll want to mix up mud as many horse colors are exactly that: Specialized mud. Indeed, silvers, champanges, mushroom, liver chestnuts, grullas, some dilutes, and many hoof colors can be thought of as a special kind of mud. So knowing how to purposefully mix accurate mud is a valuable skillset, but one also dependent on the temperature of the colors you use to target them accurately.

Color Bias

It’s important to know that as an art form, you have to work against some inherent color biases out there, and maybe you have them yourself, too. Chances are pretty good you do. You see, horses don’t really veer towards the blue spectrum, do they? No. They veer towards the red spectrum. That being so, our art form has a strong skew towards the reds, yellows and oranges and a latent bias against blues and greens, teals and purples. In other words, most people are going to interpret cool Raw Umber as “greenish” when it really isn’t per se. It’s just not red, unlike Burnt Umber which is very red-based. Said another way, colors that read as “not red” tend to be misinterpreted as green or blue when all they are is simply not a warm temperature.

But the truth is we need cool colors just as much as the warm colors if we ever hope to target horse color accurately. For example, many grullas, liver chestnuts, mushrooms, sooties, silvers, champagnes, and other dilutes have a cool cast to them, or rather, a not-red component. Likewise, many dark hoof colors and palmar foot colors are decidedly cooler than convention would have us paint them. In short, we need to actively counteract any inherent not-red color bias in order to take advantage of all the accurate possibilities those not-reds offer. To that end then, reconsider those cool colors! Think about incorporating blues, greens, teals, purples, and Raw Umber into your palette more enthusiastically. Why? Because once you understand the use of complementary colors and color theory, they become indispensable for pinpointing horse color. Absolutely, they can be the MVPs on your palette!

Color Sampling

Speaking of color biases skewing our sense of color, one of the best ways to retrain your eye is to regularly use the color sampling tool in a photo editor to get a better handle on the actual color families present in your reference. It’s often surprising! Like many skin charcoal tones are actually violet based, many dark hoof tones are more green based, and some sooty areas are actually blue based. It just goes on and on, the raised eyebrows when you really get to sampling! Very exciting! And making color sampling a regular habit to plot out your palette can really help you bingo those reference colors a lot more effectively.

So, for example, take your reference photo and pop it into your photo editor. Adjust the white balance so it's correct. Then take that color sampler tool and sample lots of areas of the subject to get a better idea of what colors you’re going to need on your palette. Indeed, this first step can be incredibly enlightening and super instructive! And if anything, it tends to knock you out of your habits, formulas, preconceptions, and conventions, which are always a good cage to rattle. Nature is all about curveballs, all about the anomalies and the unexpected, the spectrum of possibility. If you don’t have that quality in your body of work then, your portfolio will homogenize and become predictable, and that can become a problem in your long game. Besides, it’s a lot more fun to play with color, right? To keep your body of work fresh and unpredictable? It’s quite a blast to tell the truth! So why not? It won’t only help you target your colors more authentically, but it’s a hoot that lends depth to your portfolio, too!

Chroma

Chroma refers to the inherent brightness of a color, its vibrance, how vivid it is. For instance, chartreuse is a high chroma yellow-green whereas sage green is a low chroma yellow-green. Or orange is a high chroma red-yellow whereas rust is a low chroma red-yellow. In other words, simply changing the chroma of your paint colors can be enough to pinpoint that tricky area on your reference. Like if you simply tone down your bright colors with their complements, if you tone down their chroma, you can get to your target color perfectly. Indeed, this little trick is very handy for many bays and chestnuts, and even some palominos and buckskins.

Generally speaking though, mixing colors together tends to lower their chroma, and will mute their chroma altogether if mixed as complements. Adding it black or white will also lower chroma.

The point is, pay attention to how vibrant any given color is on your reference to best duplicate that effect in your paintwork. It can be quite surprising, and add a lot of "pop" to your paintjob!

Tint

Tint entails the amount of white in a color, or how “pastelized” the color has been made with the addition of white. Now while this doesn’t seem like such a big deal with horse color, it actually is. Why? Because many colors cannot be achieved without the addition of a little bit of white into the mix like creamy chestnuts, liver chestnuts, mushrooms, palominos, grullas, isabellas, champagnes, buckskins, silvers, duns, foal coats, even some bays.

There’s this, too: Often transparent colors such as the Umbers, Siennas, and some blacks can be made into more opaque powerhouses with just a wee touch of white in them. Really, mix the Umbers together in the right ratio to create a neutral brown then add in a snidge of white, and now you have yourself an incredibly versatile brown for any number of horse colors. Or add in a bit of white to Raw Sienna and you can create a host of golds and “sunshine” colors for palominos, duns, buckskins, or blonde chestnuts. What’s more, white is necessary to mix with a bit of brown and then into black to create a muted charcoal that’s more convincing than straight black paint for dark skin. White is also integral to painting pangaré effects, too. Point being, don’t be so quick to discount the infusion of white into your mixes. Look for it in your references and don’t hesitate to include it when necessary.

Saturation

Opposite to a tint is saturation which entails the intensity of the paint or how powerful the pigment actually is in its pure form. For instance, Mars Black is a far more saturated black than Ivory Black, which is more transparent and “washy.”

But saturation can also refer to how intense a horse’s colors actually are as some areas may appear more tinted while others are more saturated in their hue. A good example of this is pangaré with its washy, desaturated tinted pale areas or also wild bay with its areas of less saturated bay color. An opposite example can be the pale areas of a black bay or sooty bay which can actually be a saturated orange, rust, or gold, making them really stand out from the rest of the dark brown or black body.

The point is, pay attention to the saturation levels of your reference on the different areas of the body and try to mimic them in your paintwork, too. However, also pay attention to the saturation levels in your reference photo as some photographers ramp it up to make the depicted color pop more. Like if that green grass is really way too green? Or that red pipe fence is really too red? Or that blue sky is really way too blue? Yep...the photographer increased the photos saturation levels. So in your photo editor, desaturate such an image with the saturation levels to prepare it for use as a reference.

Value

Value entails the relative lightness or darkness of a color, often as mixed with grey or black. For instance, blacks, browns, dark blues, dark greens, and dark purples have a dark or low value whereas yellows, oranges, bright blues, bright greens, bright golds and pale tans have a light or high value. So look for areas of relative high or low value on your reference to mimic that in your paintwork. For instance, maybe the facial highlighting on a grey has a high value whereas the facial shading on that grey has a low value. Or on a sooty bay, the areas of soot have a low value whereas the areas of bloom have a higher value. Or on a dark hoof, the pale “chalky” line has a high value while the rest of the hoof has a low value.

The gist is this: Be sensitive to which areas of the body are darker and which are lighter, discounting the shadows and light play. Like we often seen a lot of variation with this effect in those coats with a lot of "bloom" or sooty factor, for instance, so look for these qualities in your references.

Muting Whites

There's a few bonuses that come with muting your whites, particularly when it comes to markings and patterns. For starters, it allows you to shade and highlight areas by giving your highlighting hues "a place to go" rather than have to compete against stark white. For example, if you paint a stark white mane, how will you highlight some strands? Muting whites also lends more realism and a sense of mass to the piece and so punches up its believability. What's more, it offers a softer feel to the piece, one that's more "touchable" and immediate and impactful. And lastly, muting your whites also makes a piece look more organic rather than so painted, more hide-like than plastic-y, if that makes any sense.

And here's the thing, whites look white in part due to the contrast with the body color, so we don't really need a stark white to even get the point across. That's also to say that those whites in sunlight may sure seem blinding and pristine, but that's an effect of lightplay and contrast, not necessarily because they're actually stark white. So think about adding a snidge of a brown, gold, umber, greige, or taupe to your whites to soften them a bit and you'll probably find that the convincing nature of your paintwork ramps up a notch or two.

Paper Trick

A nifty way to train your Eye to identify color more accurately is to compare your reference to a sheet of clean white paper. Go over the body in the reference comparing against that pure white paper to really tease out any specific color qualities those different areas have. The neutral white color of the paper can really help those eccentricities pop and soon you'll be able to See them better even without the white paper as a comparison.

Conclusion

So who was right about that dress color? Well, the dress was actually blue with black banding. Wild! However, those who saw a white dress with gold banding, their brains pinged the frontal and parietal regions of the brain, areas thought to be critical in higher cognition activities. So go figure. Quite literally though, that dress photo represents a “color superposition” as it was literally both colors at once, at least in the collective mind of the viewers. Either way, it provides a powerful lesson we should keep close in mind as we work: Not to take any color for granted. That’s to say that every color we decipher from our reference, every color we mix up on our palette, and every color we lay down on our piece needs careful thought, vigilance, and a fresh eye to truly duplicate it authentically. And that just takes an open mind and some diligent training to really teach ourselves how to pinpoint accurate colors more effectively.

Above all, we should remember that our brain processes color, it doesn’t just see color as it is. It has to go through lots of systems and translations to be registered as “blue,” “red,” “yellow,” or what have you. And there’s a lot that can hose all that processing up! Indeed, did you know that the color purple is a brain-fabricated color? That the purple wavelength doesn’t actually exist in physics? Wild, huh? In order to see purple then, our brains interpret it as a combination of red and blue. So what’s the solution? Take those eye color tests, really dig into understanding color theory, retrain your Eye with lots of color sampling exercises, and use the white paper trick to further refine your Eye. It’ll all help to expose your color biases and blindspots while also expanding the possibilities on your palette.

The gist is this: Stay fresh with your color interpretations in order to stay as flexible and adaptable as possible when it comes to translating your references. Really, only those with the most adaptable palettes, the most accurate references, and a firmer grasp of color theory will hit their color targets most convincingly. What’s more, your habits, conventions, and formulas may be handy and safe, they’re tried and true, sure, but they’re also limiting over time, aren’t they? Indeed, they can choke hold and stunt how you decipher color all together if you aren’t careful, so beware. Rattle your own cage and challenge your own conventions from time to time.

So do some color exercises and sampling, learn about color theory, expand the colors you use on your palette to adapt, and come to color interpretation with an open mind, and you’ll have a much better time authentically duplicating color and having a lot more fun doing it. Matching true color doesn’t have to give you conniptions! Instead, it can be a fascinating color journey that deepens your portfolio in the most enticing ways. Learn these principles and these tricks, and you’ll soon be matching colors with far more confidence and purpose and that spells one thing: A body of work that reflects life’s variety with more authenticity. And then watch as people have their own happy conniptions over your paintwork in the best, most affirming ways!

“The colors live a remarkable life of their own after they have been applied to the canvas.”

— Edvard Munch

A Cacophony of Color: The Magic of Unlikely Pigments

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sat, 18 Oct 2025 22:55:00 +0000

Wallow In It, My Friend!

We’ve all heard the mantra: “You need burnt sienna, burnt umber, mars black, raw umber…yada yada yada.” Now, sure, we may need these conventional horse colors, but let’s not stop there, shall we? Let’s think outside the proverbial paint box! There’s a whole spectrum of colors out there that will add a wonderful dimension to our painting by infusing a cornucopia of unique, rich, vibrant colors to our palette. Life doesn’t myopically fixate on burnt umber or ivory black, or any other color, does it? Nope! So neither should we. It’s just color, right? And any color is potentially useful! What’s more important is recognizing and exploring our possibilities.

Because here’s the thing—eventually we’re going to get bored with the standard colors and, ultimately, they’re going to fail us. See, there’s only so much we can do with them. They have their limits. The eventuality then is a rather homogenized body of work with a “yeah, we’ve seen that before” look to it. Wouldn’t we want more diversity? This makes each piece wholly unique while also making our work far more challenging and fun! Plus these standard pigments don’t always recreate the necessary tone we need for a particular coat, do they? They often can fall short yet we want to get as close as we can to our target tones, don’t we?

Luckily then, the panacea for our palette is the application of unlikely colors, even those hues that seem to be so outlandish, they’re unusable. Not so! Every color is relevant because nature doesn’t care about which color is “right.” Really, if a color exists, it’s a likely candidate! How fun is that? Limitless possibilities!

But First, The Basics

To best explore these eccentric colors, we need to know a little bit about basic color terminology and color theory. Knowing these key concepts first will help us better understand further education because we’ll know the language and ideas more like a damp sponge, and a damp sponge absorbs more than a dry one.

For starters then, get a color wheel. Inexpensive and typically made of cardstock, they spin to illustrate how colors relate to each other to guide our mixing strategies. So learn how to use one effectively and there are many videos on YouTube teaching you how. Paint manufacturers also make color charts using their colors, demonstrating a wide spectrum of colors we can achieve with their pigments, being another handy guide. For example, here are color charts from Liquitex. It's also important to know how specialized paints work like interference, metallics, pearlescent, and iridescents. And there are quite a few color mixing instructionals on YouTube as well. We should also know how to read pigment codes because that information can come in very handy when it comes to mixing color.

We also should learn the lingo. Some basic concepts include:

Primary color: Pure red, yellow, and blue, the pure colors that cannot be made by mixing other colors. In practice then, these three pigments can produce all other colors, with the exception of white, which is the absence of color when it comes to paint. It should be noted, however, that because different reds, yellows, and blues exist, there’s a huge spectrum of colors possible with all this variation.
Secondary color: The color produced by the mixture of any two primary colors. For example, purple (red/blue), green (yellow/blue) and orange (red/yellow).
Tertiary color: Produced when we mix any primary color with an adjacent (on the color wheel) secondary color. For instance, mixing red with orange (red/yellow).
Intermediate color: The mixture of any two primaries and a third color. For example, the combination of orange (red/yellow) and burnt sienna (to make a bright chestnut).
Value: The degree of lightness or darkness of a color. We can change a color’s value by altering it with another color. For instance, purple has a dark value, but if we add white, its value is lightened. Conversely, pink is a light value, but add burnt sienna and we darken its value.
Chroma: The purity of a color that establishes its relative brightness, vividness, and clarity, or dullness or muddiness.
Tint: A lighter value typically created by the mixture of white or similar light value color (“highlight”). (In model horse circles, we also use “tint” to refer to altering an underlying color with a glazing technique.)
Shade: A darker value typically created by the mixture of black or dark value color (“shading”).
Tone: The direction a color leans. For instance, a red–toned brown, a yellow–toned orange or a brown–toned grey. In traditional painting circles, however, “tone” refers to any color plus grey.
Hue: Another word for “color.”
Intensity or Saturation: The amplification of a color through progressive saturation. For example, the more burnt umber in our burnt umber glaze, the more intense that burnt umber will look in application. Or the more red we have in our chestnut mixture will make it more intensely red. We can also add more glazed layers of the same color to increase its intensity in our paintwork. In practice then, we can create many varied effects simply applying different intensities on various parts of the piece, so play with it.
Monochromatic color: Using any hue, tint, shade, or tone of just one color.
Analogous color: Using colors that are adjacent to each other on the color wheel. For instance, mixing yellow and green together.
Complementary color: Mixing any two colors opposite each other on the color wheel. For example, mixing yellow/purple, orange/blue, or green/red. When mixed together as pairs, they’re passively dulled, meaning that their characteristics aren’t destroyed in the process unlike using black which can quickly destroy a color outright. So experiment with complementary colors to find a whole new spectrum of exciting color possibilities. Indeed, different yellows/purples, oranges/blues, and greens/reds produce new variations of lovely hues such as unique browns, reds, burgundies, rusts, golds, oranges, and greys, opening up the possibilities for all sorts of horse colors including novel or more accurate duns, grullas, greys, chestnuts, and others. And the greens produced are often helpful for hooves and muzzles which can have a lot more green involved than we may realize. The resultant blues and purples are also useful for more unique bays, chestnuts, dilutes, sooties, composites, etc. Indeed, using various complementary harmonies will enrich our paintwork tremendously and produce a wide spectrum of colors otherwise unattainable. We want to open up our palette to limitless possibilities, yes? We want to break our addiction to pre-made colors? Well, one of the most powerful ways we do this is through the use of complements! Quite literally, they’re the key to unlimited possibilities! For that, advanced students would learn much from creating a series of chromatic scales to learn the extraordinary power of complementary colors.
Mixing complementary color: The neutral color created by mixing two complements, being a brown, grey, or almost-black. Can be a very handy base to make color variations.
Split complementary color: Using any color with two colors on each side of its complement. For instance, mixing green with red-orange and red-violet.
Triad color: Mixing three colors equally spaced from each other on the color wheel. For example, mixing violet, orange, and green.
Tetrad color: Using four colors on the color wheel that are two sets of complementary colors. For instance, mixing violet and yellow with blue and orange.
Key color: The dominant color tone or undertone of the paintwork, the unifying color.
Companion colors: We can use a family of colors to harmonize a color theme, applicable to the body color, tone, tint, value, intensity, shade and highlight. For example, a palomino shade of raw sienna/burnt umber/titanium white can have a companion shade with the addition of more burnt umber. Likewise, a silver dapple highlight that entails a burnt umber/french grey mix may have a companion of burnt umber/taupe. In other words, a companion color involves some of the initial color that’s been altered to marry the two together while maintaining variation. This can be highly effective in adding gradients and subtle complexity to any coat color, so experiment with this method.
Muddy color: If we don’t know how to mix color effectively enough, we’re going to inadvertently create “mud." For instance, if we use black to darken our hues rather than using complementary colors, we’ll likely create mud. A typical example is creating a muddy green when we try to combine black with golds to blend our buckskin’s leg coloration. Or if we mix too many colors together, we’ll create mud, too, or if we mix together colors that conflict with each other, we’ll create mud again, like mixing a "warm" color with a "cool" color. However, that said, there are many times when mud is absolutely necessary. Nature uses all the colors! Mud can be magical! For instance, silvers, mushroom, grullas, champagnes, pearls, and other dilutes are really just sophisticated types of mud, right? So knowing how to intentionally mix the right kind of mud is actually a superpower in our art form and where, again, knowing how to mix "crazy" colors really helps us out.
Clean color: When we use the bare minimum of non-competing pigments to create a color, we tend to create a “clean” color. Like mixing a cool color with a cool color, or a warm with a warm will produce a "clean" result. So what that means is this: The beauty of a paint job is the exceptional application of many different colors working together independently as a visual whole rather than many different colors mixed together. Using clean colors can help to increase the luminosity and glow of our paintjob which can be essential for certain colors or coat bloom. Indeed, the cleaner the color, the more the paintjob tends to pop.
Dull color: We can dull colors by adding white, taupe, grey, tan, or similarly white-based hue. But this isn’t a bad thing! Really, it’s often necessary for painting some composite colors and many dilutes. For instance, some buckskins can have a dusty, muted look that's important to capture in pigment. It's also necessary to create more creamy colors like creamy chestnuts and palominos.
Muted color: We can mute down any color with its complement color or most any color with black (careful though with black). Muting can be necessary for blending hues or pinpointing certain colors such as some champagnes, silvers, and grullas, for instance.
Warm color: Sometimes referred to as “advancing” colors, these are the reds, yellows, oranges, golds, and rusts. Mixing these colors into our mixes will “warm up” the resultant color.
Cool color: At times referred to as the “receding” colors these are the blues, greens, and purples (and sometimes violets). Mixing these colors into our mix will “cool it down.”
Warm or cool palette: Entails the exclusive use of either warm or cool tones to produce a warm or cool undertone to the paint job. Yet while conventional painting theory tends to favor sticking only with one family of colors to create either an exclusively warm–toned or cool–toned painting, when it comes to painting model horses realistically, that’s a problematic policy. The thing is, Nature doesn’t care about such things and perhaps neither should we. So don’t be afraid to jumble up warm or cool tones on a single piece. Just hit the target colors as close as possible and have fun with it all!

However, let’s talk about warm and cool colors for a moment (recommended reading: Fire And Ice: The Power Of A Warm and Cool Palette, and Pop n’ Glow: Waking Up Your Paintwork With Color). See, the issue of a “warm” or “cool” color is a bit complicated yet it’s super important to understand the undertones, or "temperatures," of our colors if our mixes are going to be on target. This is because even the warm colors like yellows, reds, and oranges, well, they can be warm or cool, too, or our cool colors like blues, greens, and purples, they can be warm or cool as well. Yep—there is such a thing as a cool red and a warm red! For instance, a cool red is alizarin crimson with its blue undertone while a warm red is cadmium red with its orange undertone. Generally speaking then, cool reds lean into the purple and blue spectrum and away from the yellows, rusts, and oranges while warm reds tend to lean the opposite. Likewise, cool yellows tend to lean into the green undertone while warm yellows lean into the orange undertone. For instance, hansa yellow is a good example of a cool yellow while cadmium yellow deep is an example of a warm yellow. And—yes—the cool colors have their own warm and cool varietals as well. For example, ultramarine blue is often thought of as a warm blue with its purple leanings (and therefore reds) while phthalo blue can be considered a cool blue as it leans into the greens (but more on the blues in a bit).

Likewise, whites and blacks have their warm and cool counterparts which can make a big difference in our mixtures as well. For instance, zinc white is a good example of a cool white while antique white is a warm white with a tan lean. In contrast, titanium white is more neutral, making it an ideal white for just about any palette. Similarly, mars black is a warm brown toned-black (and therefore red) while ivory black is a cool blue-toned black whereas carbon black is a neutral black, leaning neither warm or cool. So if we exclusively use ivory black to paint a dapple grey it’ll create a cool blue-leaning dapple grey whereas using mars black will result in a warmer brown-leaning dapple grey while using carbon black will produce a more neutral dapple grey. What does this mean? That we’ll miss our target for the bluish cast on a porcelain grey (grey on black) if we use warm mars black instead of cool ivory black. That’s how powerful the temperature of a color can be.

However, can we talk about raw umber for a moment? That funky cool toned “green” brown? See, our art form has an inherent bias for reds with an accompanying strong bias against the “not reds,” the cool colors. It makes sense though when it comes to horse colors, right? Our horses aren’t colored in blues, purples, and greens. They aren’t mantis shrimp! Nope, they’re shades of reds, rusts, golds, yellows, peaches, browns, tans, blacks, greys, pinks, and whites, etc….that sorta thing. Even so though, Nature has a much bigger color story to tell because if we look closely, we'll find that it offers up those “not reds” as cool variations of our horsey colors just the same. So unless we perceive and duplicate this fuller color story, we’re going to miss a lot of realism and options for our work. For example, we really lean into burnt umber (warm brown) but recoil from raw umber (cool brown), interpreting it as “too green.” It really isn’t green though per se, it’s just not red. It’s very much a cool brown. Yet we’re so biased towards red, we literally perceive anything “not red” as greenish or bluish. But here’s the thing, if we’re paying attention to Nature’s color story, these “not reds” are equally important and offer our palette just as much fun as any warm color. For example, dark hooves and leg chestnuts can be in the cooler spectrum and some grey skin can actually be based on cool violet. Many colors also require a cooler temperature in part or in whole such as some silvers, grullas, mushroom, champagnes, and liver chestnuts. So we should rethink our collective bias against the “not reds,” and in particular, against raw umber. The truth is that cool colors are tremendously helpful and often the only way to get to certain colors otherwise super tricky to pin down. For instance, raw umber is often the only way to properly get to grulla.

So now…back to blue. Here’s the thing: There’s often disagreement over the temperatures of blues because it’s just a color that’s harder to define as a subset of warm or cool. Blue is a color that just is, in many ways. In practice though, most blues have a green slant to them with very few having a red slant. For instance, cobalt blue is considered by many to be the most neutral bluest blue, depending on the manufacturer. In that light then, ultramarine blue and indanthrone blue can be thought of as warm blues and cerulean blue and phthalo blue can be thought of as cool blues. But well…that’s open to debate when you actually swatch them. But a handy trick is to do a series of mixing swatches with a cool yellow—which blues create clear, vibrant greens? Those will be your cool blues. In turn, which will create dulled greens like army or olive or muddy greens? Those will be your warm blues.

So what does all this mean? Why is all this so important? Well, four major reasons. For starters, perceiving the temperatures of our colors helps us to identify and nail our target hues more efficiently and purposefully. Indeed, many horse coats are a patchwork of both cool and warm hues and so we really need to recognize those shifts to get them into our paintjob.

Second, not accounting for temperature is often why we miss our target colors altogether or completely misinterpret a color wheel. It can be why we’re constantly fighting our mixtures, too, never quite pinpointing our references or even unintentionally creating mud. It’s not that what we’re doing is intrinsically wrong, it’s probably because we aren’t accounting for the temperature of the colors we’re mixing. Like if we mix a warm blue, say ultramarine blue, that has a bit of red in it, with a with a cool yellow, like hansa yellow light, that has a bit of green in it, what do you think is going to happen between the red and green undertones? Yep, they’re going to generate a dulled, muddy color instead of a vibrant, clear color. As such, we’ll usually have more success hitting our target colors if we stick with one tone, say mixing that warm blue with a warm yellow instead. Really, to keep our colors bright and clear, sticking with one tone often works best like mixing a cool-toned yellow with a cool-toned red will stay more clear than mixing that cool yellow with a warm-toned red. Unfortunately though, many artists find frustration with color mixing because they inexplicably keep creating mud or colors not quite right for their target hues and blame their lack of skill, even their paint. Chances are though that’s it’s simply an unawareness of their colors’ temperatures that’s the culprit. Really, get a handle on that, and our mixes will often magically fix themselves. So experiment to see how warm and cool colors behave with each other to get a handle on this effect.

However, third, there’s nothing wrong with mud and dulled colors if that’s the target we’re going for. Mud can indeed be just the ticket! Indeed, leg chestnuts and the palmar foot benefit from these hues quite a bit as do some tones on the hooves. Some coat colors can also be muddy like mushroom, champagne, grulla, and some silvers and liver chestnuts. In fact, they can be thought of as a specialized kind of mud, can’t they? But we won’t know how to make effective mud if we don’t know how to manipulate color temperatures, will we? And what if we need a warm mud or a cool mud—do we know how to make those purposely? If we don’t know about color temperature then, we’re simply working at a sharp disadvantage with purposeful mixing.

Because finally, fourth, if we don’t understand temperature, we won’t be able to manipulate our pigments well enough and that can greatly limit our palette. Yet when we do understand color theory and the temperatures of our paints, we can adjust the nature of our colors how ever we want, even their warmth and coolness. Like let’s say we have a green that’s more neutral like a sage green. How would we warm it up while keeping it green? Well, we can add some warm quinacridone gold to lean it into warm yellow. How would we cool it down while keeping it green? We can add in some cool prussian blue to blue it up. Or, for example, some burnt umber can warm up a grey or, alternately, payne’s grey can cool it down. This can have a powerful effect on our palette to really help us target our colors with a lot more control and accuracy.

So—yes—the warm and cool colors on our palette matters, and matters a lot. Indeed, our color mixes can be radically changed simply by switching one of them out, warming and cooling being that powerful. In this way, we can turn relatively few colors into a host of others when we know how to mix them well enough, opening up our palette so much more. Really, when we can mix our own classic silver dapple tones and don’t need to rely on store-bought pre-mixed colors, for example, we not only gain a lot of uniqueness, versatility, and adaptability, but we also gain something even more amazing—independent autonomy in our paintwork. The moment that happens is when we’ll find that painting not only becomes a lot more fun and interesting, but our paintwork expands in diversity and depth, attainable no other way. We also gain a lot more confidence as we have the ability to really target any color we wish a lot more accurately.

“Wow! What Colors Did You Use?!”

So now that we have all that under our belt, let’s apply it! But before we begin, understand that there are loads of different ways to apply all this, and we each find our own way of doing so. And that’s important. Each of our unique interpretations adds to the diversity of our arts, and truth be told, there really isn’t a wrong way given we know about color and how to mix it. There’s only our way, and that’s awesome! Also keep in mind that as we grow, our approaches will evolve, too, and that’s a good thing. Really, when we stay open to the possibilities of our palette, we’re also asked to stay open to new ways of interpretation and application. Indeed, the moment we become cemented in our thinking and rigid in our expectations is the moment we compromise our potential. Conventions are tricky things, especially our own.

So let’s start with a basecolor body color, the overarching idea of our target color, the basic unifying hue of the finished piece—the key color. But instead of using color directly out of the tube or our same ol’ routine formula, try a different medley, say, using complements or triads. For instance, create a burnt sienna/yellow oxide/rose basecoat for a buckskin, or a payne’s grey/raw umber grulla, or a burnt umber/grey brown, or a raw umber/raspberry bay, or a red oxide/teal chestnut, or a payne’s grey/cadmium orange hue sooty palomino, or a red oxide/ultramarine blue bay. The point is, the more unique the initial body color, the more diverse and unique the finished piece. As such, folks will be harder pressed to decipher how we achieved that color, and that helps to make our portfolio even more distinctive and deep.

Moving onto tonal variety, now we can block in variations to that body color to amplify “bloom” or the unique tonal differences of a particular color. So maybe we need to brighten or darken some portions, shift the tones in various regions, or even tweak the warmth or coolness of different portions. For instance, maybe we need to apply some coolness to the dock of a white tail with some warmth to the middle portion to finish with a very warm golden for the stained tail tips. For this we can add a bit of cool grey to titanium white for the dock, add in a bit of burnt umber and/or yellow oxide to titanium white for the middle portion, and then intensify that mix for the tips, for example. Or perhaps we want to block in some vibrant oranges and rusts in the key areas of a bay such as the flank, groin, elbow, chest, crown, and jugular areas. We can use the unconventional colors such as reds, oranges, and yellows here to great effect as well as the red and yellow oxides. Just because a color may be a bright and “non–horsey” doesn’t mean it’s not the perfect color to use! And if we know how to use color well, any color can be made into a horsey color.

Moving onto shade, the body colors alone won’t lend the desired depth, dimension, or richness to our paintjob. We’ll need a series of shade values to bring it to life. But instead of darkening the body color with black, apply the use of complementary colors. We can do this in two ways. First, we can darken the body color itself on the palette with a complementary color to amplify its depth without losing its richness and vibrancy. For example, use blues, purples, or greens to deepen reds, oxides, oranges, or rusts for browns, bays, and chestnuts. Or second, forget about using the body color entirely and mix up a new color, or series of colors using complementary harmonies. Indeed, mixing a rich, deep blue with red oxide, red, or orange will produce a gorgeous very dark, rich brown, and depending on the mix, it can even mimic black in certain ratios. We can even use purples for this as well, and using greens has a similar effect, but with very different results that may do well for certain colors and effects. There’s also the pairing of reds/greens, oranges/blues, and yellows/purples that offer us a host of colors including beautiful browns and greys. Want to achieve that blueish, purpley kind of vibrant bay? This is how we do it! So experiment. Point is, don’t just add black or more burnt umber to darken a burnt umber/red oxide base for our bay. Instead, darken that mix with a blue, purple, or green and use that. Or a new dark complement mixture is a great candidate, too.

But a bit of caution here: The use of complements is best for our purposes with “clear” colors most of the time, becoming trickier when white is involved. This is because white reveals a color’s tone so if we aren’t careful, we’ll have unwanted results. For instance, a burnt sienna/ultramarine blue mix makes a lovely dark brown, but dab in a tad of white and that blue becomes readily apparent. Or touch a bit of white into to a red oxide/green dark chestnut and we’ll end up with green mud. So learn to brighten colors without the use of white, which is done using reds, yellows, oranges and similar clear colors. Now granted, sometimes white is necessary for those creamy varietals like creamy chestnuts and bays and most dilutes, but for the more clear coats, white can be a liability. Point being, white is a super powerful color to add so know when to use it, and even more, know how to brighten our colors without the use of white, a very handy trick to have up our sleeve. Because here's the thing, once you add white to your mix, there's no removing it, so we have to know exactly what we're doing before we mix it in.

Anyway, to avoid this effect white has on complementary mixes, a workaround is to use complements as a base factor, relegating any mixture of white to specific exceptions. Because—hey—there will come a time when green mud is necessary like on hooves or palmar feet, or even on the lips. So for example, use a burnt sienna/ultramarine blue mix for the dark areas on a rosegrey and let dry. Then paint over that with browns tinted with a rosey tone. As another example, make a body color with taupe/grey/orange for a light dun and let dry. Then paint over that with the various light values we wish to mix for highlights. That's to say, use the complementary mix as a base then simply paint on top of that rather than mixing into it. This method really works well when creating unique and complex colors that are otherwise tricky to pin down.

Similarly, there are different ways to create highlights. A popular way is to simply add white or similar pastel-ized (tinted) color. And while that’s doable, and often necessary with some colors like composites, dilutes, and creamy colors, it’s not always the best approach for colors that need clarity such as vibrant bays and chestnuts, or even blacks. Indeed, if we use white to highlight these clear coats, we usually end up with a dulled “powder puff” result which is fine for certain situations but not fine if we didn’t intend that. For example, adding white to a strong burnt umber mix will often turn it pink. Not so helpful for a bay, right? Now that said—sure—some bays and chestnuts can be more opaque or creamy. So used with finesse, a vast spectrum of gorgeous creamy colors are possible from soft chestnuts to dreamy bays when we know how to employ white. Also on the upside, in small amounts, white transforms transparent colors into opaque powerhouses for highlighting or various other uses. Like it can turn a transparent yellow or orange into a tremendous color for all sorts of applications and mixes.

However, another interesting highlighting option with white is the use of glaze tinting. In this, we use a white-based highlight color as a base then tint it with a glaze of clear color. On a chestnut, for instance, we can highlight the muscles with a burnt sienna/white mixture and let that dry. Then we can glaze tint that color with an orangey rust or golden glaze or reddish glaze. Then vary this over the entire body in various tones and intensities, and we’ve created a rather vibrant, complicated chestnut with relative ease. It's a bit like the grisaille method in a way, and it works really well. Being so, we can often create a glowing, luminescent clear coat with this white-based technique, so don’t be so quick to rule white out. The things to remember are this though: A little bit of white goes a long way and it takes a bit of practice to use white effectively as a highlighting agent. So don’t get discouraged too quickly. And never be afraid to experiment. And if something doesn’t work one way, try another. Remember, it’s just color!

Even so, there are times when using white as a highlight agent isn’t our best option. Instead then we’ll want to recreate that clear, glowing, jewel–like quality another way. So what do we do? Ta–da! Pure colors! Yes! Those crazy bright reds, yellows, and oranges! These strong hues bring brilliance and luminescence to browns (bays), golds (palominos), and oranges (chestnuts), and other colors. Dabbing in pure reds, yellows, and oranges to a highlight mixture can create clear colors that pop, and used skillfully in a paintjob will recreate those jewel–like qualities of a clear coat in bloom. Or mix them together to create glazes of powerful color. For example, a bay really wakes up with the reds, oranges, and yellows when used in complementary mixes, or combined with red oxide, burnt sienna, or even black itself. Then yellow or orange can be wonderful accents for liver chestnuts or bright chestnuts alike while red can really add glow to red chestnuts or bloodstone chestnuts. Bays are perhaps the biggest benefactors of these bright colors, so make full use of them. Reds, oranges, and yellows are also highly effective in complementary mixes such as for creating greys, tans, and browns for various composites and dilutes, or used to warm up colors. Actually, when we learn how to use these bright reds, oranges, and yellows, we’ll find they’re not only indispensable, but a real blast with all their possibilities!

Note: If using cadmium colors, be sure to keep them off the skin as cadmium is a toxic compound. That goes for zinc white and cobalt blue as well. And don’t use these colors in an airbrush because we definitely don’t want aerosoled particles that could be inhaled. As an alternative to the cadmiums then, manufacturers make "hue" counterparts like cadmium red hue. However, many of these hue paints are composites of different colors, in that many different colors are mixed together to approximate their replacement. This can complicate mixes because you have to also factor in every single color used in that mix when you're creating your own mixes so just keep that in mind.

The Peacocks

In addition to our regular colors, we also get to use metallic, iridescent, pearlescent, and even interference pigments! Truly, iridescents, pearlescents, and metallics can be very useful for mimicking a satin sheen often seen on a healthy coat. For sculptures of Akhal–Tekes or the champagne color, in particular, they may be necessary. Used straight out of the container or infused into our mixtures, when used skillfully, they produce a realistic shimmer and depth unattainable by other means. For instance, pearlescent white mixed with white or applied as a finishing layer will produce a lovely sheen for white markings, or be wonderful for adding oomphf to a white–grey paintjob. Pearlescents and metallics can also be useful for certain eye colors that may have a distinct shimmery effect to the iris such as some hazel and golden eyes.

On the wild side though, we can also use unconventional shimmery colors for a range of fascinating effects. For instance, iridescent blue, purple, and black will add pizzazz to that black paintjob. Or go crazier and plop in a bit of iridescent violet to a silver dapple mixture to create a subtle lavender cast that’s elusively attractive. In fact, we can apply this idea to many other colors with the full selection of shimmer colors. Iridescent reds, yellows, and oranges are also fabulous for razzle–dazzle effects on bays to palominos, even some duns.

And think about the possibilities with metallics! For example, how palominos could be enhanced with metallic golds and chestnuts with metallic bronzes and coppers. Or even how a grulla or blue roan could be “popped” with the infusion of shimmery silver. Shimmery gunmetal would be useful for a black whereas metallic brass could be highly effective for waking up a dun. The options are endless.

We also have interference colors at our disposal, offering us another realm of possibilities. Like use interference blue as a key highlight on a black and…bam…instant interest and cool effects. Interference purple is also a neat touch for a black so try that, too. What these colors do is essentially color shift, and when used expertly, can add an intriguing dimension to a paintjob even if equine color doesn’t actually color shift. Indeed, if we know how to use interference colors, they can work tremendously well and achieve realistic and interesting effects unattainable otherwise.

Blacking Out

Not all black pigments are the same. In fact, the differences between blacks can influence our colors tremendously and open up more options for us so we need to know the nature of our inky goodness.

For instance, mars black is an intense, opaque, powerful warm black while ivory black is a transparent, cool black, and carbon black is a strong opaque neutral black. Appearing black out of the tube, payne’s grey is even more transparent and cooler than ivory black and can be used like a black in its pure form in some situations. But each one reacts very differently in mixture so having them all at the ready can really expand our palette.

And that can also be important since painting a really good black horse can be quite difficult, as counter intuitive as that seems. So along with understanding blacks, it’s also useful to know which unconventional colors can also be put to work for this. For example, blues and purples serve well as highlights and tonal variations while their iridescent, pearlescent, and even their interference counterparts can add dimension and effect, too. Put all this together and we can

avoid simply painting a boring, flat black model.

However, that said, we can make our own black by mixing complements, specifically using blues and purples, and sometimes green, leaning well into them. Like mixing blues or dark purples with umbers produces lovely blacks that can be further modified as needed. Or mixing blues with its complement orange and modifying it further with yellows renders a nice black, too. Indeed, knowing how to mix our own blacks is a powerful skill in our tool box.

White Out

White is the absence of color when it comes to paint, so you can't really mix it up from the other colors. However, we do need to know our whites since each one has its own unique properties, too. So, again, experiment! Like titanium white is the most common and considered the most neutral white, but there are others with cooler or warmer tones. For instance, zinc white is a cool white whereas antique white or unbleached titanium are warm whites (just be careful of zinc white because it’s toxic and needs to be treated as a cadmium color).

Now as for application, convention would have us paint stark white stark for markings, literally right out of the tube. And while some groomed coats in life may certainly have the appearance of brilliant, blinding white, often a sculpture is better served by toning whites down. Doing so allows the body color to pop and harmonize with it, and it adds mass, volume, and immediacy to the piece. In a sense, it looks less like an artificially painted model and more like a real horse. Plus, toning down our whites gives us a “place to go” with highlights, and a highlighted white area can be even more beautiful and realistic than just a flat white. (Just remember that shading in any white marking should be in the flesh spectrum consistent with underlying unpigmented skin rather than grey or greige shading which would be applicable to dark skin.) So to do this, we can use bit of yellow oxide, burnt umber, raw sienna, or a complementary mix of our choosing to tone down our whites, keeping our mixes in mind to avoid an unwanted undertone or cast.

A Gaggle Of Greys

Never underestimate the power of grey! Know it or not, grey isn’t just a neutral “nothing” color, something dismissible. Rather, it’s a highly versatile mixing color, applicable to all the hues we need for horses. Indeed, from all the coat colors to those we need for manes, tails, and feathers, it’s also useful for flesh and even intrinsic to hooves (both shell and dark), leg chestnuts and ergots, and painting the palmar foot. Truly, knowing how to mix any kind of grey we need is one of the core skills of painting realistic colors. So experiment and practice. Explore this amazing family of colors because once we learn how to use them, they can become a best friend.

For example, try a mix of orange and blue with a bit of white to turn it grey, now add in some red oxide to make a beautiful, unique chestnut. Or why not add some burnt umber or raw umber to french grey and we have a lovely base for a grulla. Or think about mixing payne’s grey with apricot for the base for a dapple grey. Or tinker with the proportions of a red and green mix with a bit of white to make a greenish grey—a pretty useful color for some aspects of the hoof, even around areas of the muzzle. The thing is, grey is an incredibly flexible color by itself or for creating new colors, and those that are often very difficult to achieve any other way. So never take grey for granted!

The Skinny

As for flesh tones, equines have pink colors for their unpigmented skin. However, this can be a difficult color for folks to visualize and therefore mix. The thing to remember is this though: Equine flesh tone isn’t often cotton candy pink. It can be at times, but not often. But neither is it tan–like or rust–like either. Instead, it’s this strange family of pink–red–yellow–orange–rust–tan–white-greige shades, a group of in–betweens, each needing a very careful balance to achieve its various hues. It can be warm or cool, too, so pay attention to that in references.

Flesh is also not just a color, but an effect. See, flesh color has a translucent quality, a luminescence, a soft, transparent fleshiness that should be captured in pigment, too. This is why “flesh” right out of the bottle rarely works well in either tone or effect. It’s too stark and flat. Instead, flesh is an amalgamation of different hues and different variations used together, needing a bit of highlight and shading and other treatments to accentuate its squishy, translucent fleshiness. Really, it’s an extraordinarily complex color and effect so it’s no surprise why it trips up so many painters.

But the first step towards successful flesh colors is to learn how to reach those desired hues and tones, and we do that with these unlikely colors. For example, reds, yellows, and even some oranges mixed with whites with a touch of burnt sienna can be very helpful for creating a palette of flesh tones. We can even implement burnt umber, raw sienna, and the oxides. And—gasp—various blues, purples, and greys can be immensely useful, too! (A handy, fast flesh tone, however, is simply mixing white with burnt sienna, and either use that straight or with adjustments with other hues.)

But it’s not just about which colors we use for flesh, it’s also about in what proportions. Absolutely, flesh is extremely sensitive to color adjustments, perhaps the most sensitive behind grulla. Indeed, just a snidge too much yellow or red or orange will skew the tone away from that delicate balance we need. In fact, a common mistake with flesh tones is a too-red flesh, too-yellow flesh, or a too-orange flesh, so proportions count in a big way. That said though, study references and do life study to see all the different tones and hues flesh actually manifests as—there’s a lot of options. But overall, truly, if there was any color that needed the most experimentation and practice to mix well, it would be flesh.

Charcoal Charm

Similarly the colors involved with dark skin aren't so straightforward either. Really, don't think in terms of just blacks and whites, but also taupes, green, blues, lavenders, even violets. Indeedy, use the Photoshop ink dropper sampler tool and we'll find that many dark skin charcoals are derived from violet greys!

And think in terms of using charcoals rather than straight or strong blacks because that charcoal will give us a "place to go" for shading to add that extra touch of fleshy softness to our dark areas like muzzles, around the eye, or inside the ears or groin. Really, even with a shaved and "greased up" Arabian, for example, refrain from those blacks and lean more into the charcoals. We'll still get the point across, but with more dimension and realism.

On that note, think about using greys and charcoals made from complement mixes rather than black out of the tube, too. Often times, our own blacks are more interesting and on-target than store-bought blacks.

Hoofin’ It

Perhaps surprisingly, hooves involve far more unlikely colors that what convention would have us believe. Honestly, if we put any reference photo of either a shell or dark hoof through the ink dropper color sampler in Photoshop, for instance, we’re going to have raised eyebrows. Like, curiously, there’s often quite a few greens, blues, odd burgundies, eccentric golds, and strange tans and greys involved, and not in expected places. In other words, a shell hoof is a lot more than just burnt sienna and white, and a dark hoof is much more than just brown or grey. Hoof striping is similarly unexpected with various greens, blues, browns, and esoteric greys involved as well.

And the thing is, we just aren’t going to achieve these realistic hues without those unconventional colors. Because—yes—as crazy as it sounds, we're going to need greens, reds, yellows, and blues for hooves. Remember, Nature paints with all the colors!

A Few Thoughts In The Mix

Who wants to be bored with a “seen it already” reaction? Probably not us, right? We want each paintjob to be an adventure and each finished piece to be a unique addition to our portfolio. Well, one of the most powerful ways we do this is through the use of unconventional colors on our palette.

So first of all, think about making exploration and discovery a prime directive with each paintjob rather than just reverting to something safe and routine. Sure, habit is comfortable and predictable. Like we may have always used certain colors or formulas to paint a hoof. But why? Just because “I’ve always done it that way” doesn’t mean we always have to, right? Color is color. It has so many possibilities and options for us to discover! Life is rich and varied, so why not chase after those options? It wants us to! Color is our friend, not our enemy. So stay open–minded, adaptable, and flexible. We never know when that bright lemon yellow or that dark, rich blue is just the ticket, for instance.

Also think about using as many colors in a paintjob as attractively and realistically possible. We shouldn’t limit ourselves to merely a body color, shade color, and highlight color. Think of those as the base equation from which we build greater complexity and uniqueness. So actively create variations of each or entirely new colors to incorporate with them. Honestly, the more advanced we become, the more likely we are to apply more variety to our paintjob and so the more unique, interesting, realistic, and beautiful it becomes.

Similarly, think about implementing various shading and highlight colors coordinated with the body color within an area. For example, a chestnut may need various tones of reds, oranges, or yellows as highlights and various dark browns, burgundies, and rusts for shading. When we don’t apply this concept, we end up using too few colors for highlighting or shading, creating a washed–out effect, even an unfinished look.

On that note, no coat color is simple. Ironically even, the most “simple” coat colors are often the most difficult to paint, requiring a keen sense of color use. Sure, that dapple grey may be technically challenging, but painting that “plain” chestnut into something really transcendent takes a whole new level of ability and understanding. And any savvy painter will tell you that painting a great black is one of the most difficult colors to pull off well. And let’s not even get started on champagne or isabella! And grulla! Bah! Never underestimate any color and never take anything for granted. So don’t be surprised or discouraged if you get stuck on a “simple” color. Chances are we just need a bit more understanding of color use and technique to weedle our way out of that corner.

We can also vary our intensity of “pop”—from big pop to little pop—with the skillful application of contrast. We do have a gas pedal here. That’s to say we can dial up or dial down the volume of any color simply by manipulating our mixes with those bright colors and the use of complementary mixes. But we can also manipulate the impression of a color by placing it next to another color. For example, burnt sienna seems much more intense when positioned next to black so we can use that to make a bay—especially a black bay—glow. Likewise, a gold really appears much richer and more intense when next to a pale tan, and so we can make a sooty palomino really seem luscious by strategizing their placement. Likewise, burgundy seems richer when placed next to a dark blue so we can preserve this effect when we use a complementary shade mix that’s heavy on deep blue such as for a deep purpley, bluish bay. Learn to strategize color this way, too, and we can make each color sing in harmony with each other for an overall big impact.

On that note, consider harmonizing our colors to create a coherent whole that “moves the eye around.” We don’t have to get crazy here—we want to stay realistic, remember, but we can still subtly apply this to enhance eye appeal. For example, a cinnamon–colored forehand may need oranges and yellows for highlights whereas the chocolate–colored hindend may need brown red–toned highlights—but maybe infuse a bit of orange somewhere there to harmonize the hindquarter with the forequarter. So think about color placements to keep that eye moving around and to create a cohesive whole.

Even so, we can use abrupt color oddities to add interest and amplify realism. For example, many colors and patterns can be defined by their chaotic characteristics such as sooties, silvers, and dapple greys. Here we can use that unpredictably not just to duplicate realism, but to really make the piece pop. That is to say, don’t approach these chaotic colors in a timid, habitual, conventional, formulaic way. That’s the fastest way to destroy their dynamic novelty, and the challenging fun painting them. Instead, be bold! Really analyze them closely, looking for patterns and especially where those patterns go berserk. Seek to capture their curiosities rather than reshape them into something more “normal.” For instance, that random, intense splash of mottled, light tan along the semitendinosus groove on a sooty, dappled dun can be that splash of spontaneous realism the paint job really needs. Or that really intensely dark, mottled nasal bone on a dapple grey is right on the money. In other words, don’t try to tame down chaotic patterns and colors. If people are shocked, let them be shocked. It’s life! And really, what fun is realism if we play it safe all the time? Nature doesn't play it safe with color, and maybe neither should we.

There are many ways to shade muscles to both artistically amplify them and to add mass, and whatever method we use will depend on our own sensibilities. For instance, some artists really amplify muscles, treating each muscle group as a study of highlighting and shading. On the other hand, other artists treat such things in a more generalized way, focusing more on tonal differences over the different regions of the body or the nature of the coat or pattern. Still, others blend both approaches, even adding in their own spin. There’s a lot of invention out there! Either way though, the most typical philosophy is to highlight and shade muscles with "the sun at high noon," where the highlight is on the top rim of the muscle and the shade is on the bottom. We can use a whole passel of colors to do this, so don’t be married to just a few. Indeed, a varied spectrum best captures realism, coat quality, and artistic appeal—and those unconventional colors can really shine here, too. Just don’t overkill. It’s not always a good idea to have each muscle equally spotlighted. In fact, choosing which muscles to amplify and which to tone down can make all the difference in the outcome. Varying the spotlight also lends more interest to a piece and that’s always a good thing.

Unconventional colors can also be instrumental to make complementary mixes that will add mass and volume by shading the undersides of our piece such as the belly and jaw if we choose to do that. When photoshowing was the dominant form of showing, this was common practice to create a stronger illusion of mass in a photo. But as live showing became the dominant showing experience, this practice waned, almost nonexistent today. It’s our choice but just know that those unusual colors are useful here, too.

Now we need to talk about overworking—oh yes, it's a very real thing. You see, there's an energy, a vibration to our work that creates a kind of spontaneous magic, an inherent greatness. If we're doing our job properly then, we preserve that energy, even amplify it throughout the process to completion. As such, there's a definite point when a piece is truly done, when we've gone as far as we can go with it, that it's as perfect as it can be at that moment. At that point, it's incredibly important to stop and call "done" then move onto the next piece. Truly, knowing when to call "done" is as important as starting in the first place! However, if we aren't very careful or if we're too manic about "perfection," whatever that is, we're going to miss that point of "done" and go past the point of no return, ruining our piece by overworking it. What's overworking then? It's when all those happy accidents, magic, spontaneity, and that inexplicable greatness is simply extinguished outright, erased by our augering things into the ground to get things "just right." In other words, overworking happens when any additional touch becomes a liability rather than an asset, and believe me when I say, that point comes a lot sooner than we think. So stay sensitive to when "done" actually happens, not when we want it to happen. Our paintwork and portfolio will thank us for it, trust me. Know when to put the brush down.

Smearing It All Around

If there are five things to hold close to heart when learning how to use color, especially the unusual ones, it’s these:

Stay open–minded. Try to avoid habitual thinking and approaches. Don’t just accept things because “that’s the way they’re done,” especially when they’re our own habits, conventions, and formulas. Put them to the test, using nature is the barometer. Rethink and reenvision. Really analyze and observe, and take nothing for granted. Nature uses all colors in all sorts of ways so we shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss any of them. Truly, if we mix some weird orangey green, that might just be the ticket for a portion of the hooves. A handy trick is to scan our references into Photoshop and use the ink dropper tool to color sample areas. It’s surprising just how much our assumptions skew from the actual colors! For instance, there can be a lot more green or violet in some colors than we may realize.
Be bold. Don’t be afraid or timid. Take risks. Experiment. Explore. Discovering pigments is an adventure! Don’t be afraid to get goofy when mixing them, either. So go ahead—mix that rose with burnt umber, that ivory black with apricot, that green with burgundy. Paint those chromatic scales. See what happens! We’re only limited by our willingness to venture out and discover.
Practice. Make a mistake? Awesome! We just learned something! There’s no such thing as failure here. So keep at it and stretch, and soon we’ll learn how to better predict how our colors will behave. We’ll also learn how to manipulate this further through technique and application, and soon we’ll be able to achieve exactly the results we want. That said, we should consider practicing color use on a junker first before simply jumping into our intended piece. There's little fun to be had color-correcting our piece when we can make all our oopsies on a junker first.
Observe observe observe. Really pick apart what we see with a clinical eye to truly decipher the colors involved. Discern their warmth or coolness, too, because that's also incredibly important. And name those colors, identify them just as if we had to pick them out of our paintbox because that's exactly what we'll be doing later on.
Don't stop. Hit a roadblock? Take a detour. Spinning our wheels? Switch gears. Just keep moving forwards. Yes, we're going to run into difficulty. Yes, we're going to make mistakes. Yes, we're going to get lost in our process. But just keep surging forwards, in any direction, and we'll soon find our momentum again.

A great paintjob is really the “hook,” the finishing touch and first impression of any well–done realistic equine piece. It’s also a boon by drawing in the eye and begging further attention. Great paintwork just grabs your attention and holds onto it, even sinking into your inspirations with a powerful impact. If we want to produce that effect in our own paintwork then, the best way is a full utilization of a varied palette and skillful application of color theory. We cannot be afraid of color and so we cannot discount any color for our brushes. Rather, when we understand color, we not only create a deep, varied body of work, but we come closer to nature’s hues and that really amplifies the realism of our paintwork. In doing so, we maintain our sense of wonder and discovery, and that keeps our work fresh and vital. So liberate your palette and use everything the beautiful rainbow has to offer! We can’t wait to see the beautiful cacophony of color you create!

“All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.”

—Marc Chagall

Originally printed in the 1996 August–September issue of The Hobby Horse News column, In The Studio. Updated and republished 2018. Updated and republished again in 2025.

Top Hat n' Tails: Steppin' Out With Style

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Mon, 06 Oct 2025 09:07:00 +0000

Introduction

Equine realism is a funny thing — clinical and technical, we have biological facts we need to convey in our clay and pigment. We just can’t sculpt or paint willy nilly — we have rather strict rules to follow for our piece to read realistically, narrowing the creative options rather dramatically. Yet at the same time, like it or not, our humanity gets injected into the equation as we work, seasoning our art with all that is us as individuals. We often refer to this as “artistic style,” that distinct creative fingerprint that sets each artists’ work apart from every other. In a sense then, our style is like the top hat and tails to our artwork, giving it a unique, enticing flair and flourish so necessary for art appreciation.

And every artist has a style, no matter how dryly clinical their work appears to be. Honestly, if you know what you’re looking at, even the most technical renditions have their own unique “look” to their work. Because it cannot be helped. Every artist will inject a style into their art because we’re human, not Nature, and Nature is the only thing that can create a truly realistic equine without a stylistic skew.

And isn’t that a wonderful thing? And it’s critical to boot. Now why would that be? Why is style so important in a technical art form? Well, let’s explore this idea further!

The Technicalities of Style

At first it can be easily argued that style is the kiss of death in a clinical art form like equine realism. And to a point, this is true. Those biological rules, remember. That need for authenticity and suspension of belief demands that we rein in our style a bit and lean into clinical biology and strict technicality more. Because we can’t deny that those pieces more technically clinical tend to read “more realistic,” don’t they? Yet what does that even mean, "clinical technical realism," when style is always injected into it? And that said, is style always the kiss of death? No, not really. In fact, style can actually inject some necessary ingredients into our creative concoctions that can amplify reality and even increase the appeal of the art form itself. How so?

Well, first, artistic style can’t be helped so why fight it? There is no art ever made that isn’t first founded on individual style. Even the most “realistic” work ever created is still stylistically based, influenced by such things as the choice of narrative, methods and technique, composition and design, palette choice and lighting, what’s amplified and what’s dampened, toolwork or brushwork, and above all, what’s captured by our individual perception and injected into the work. And all these individualistic creative choices add up! It’s why ten different painters can paint an apple with the same paint, tools, lighting, and technique and still end up with paintings that are markedly different. Everyone has a different perception of reality! Well, the same applies to equine realism. If you simply take a moment to study the works in this art form en masse, you’ll quickly see that each piece is quite stylistic even when hyper-realistic at the same time. For example, study the equine work of Anna Hyatt Huntington. Her work is very realistic but also highly stylized all the same, but here's the kicker...no less effective for it. Another to study is Herbert Haseltine whose work is really super stylized but also beautifully realistic. There's also Karen Kasper to study and Louise Peterson and Frederic Remington. Even the work of Mr.Z is stylized when you know what you're looking at, as hyper-realistic as it looks at first glance. And, of course, the work of Edwin Bogucki very much has his own unique unmistakable style, but beautifully realistic as well. So no — realism and style aren't mutually exclusive nor is style necessarily destructive to realism.

Second, style keeps the art from from degenerating into something inert and irrelevant. As a thought experiment then, let’s say all our artists achieved technical singularity, or accuracy to the nth degree. We now have tables full of pieces that are uncanny realistic. And that would be super cool — to a point. Because we’d have painted ourselves into a homogenous corner, wouldn’t we? It would be a sea of sameness. So how would we judge them? How could we tell who did what? What if we wanted something different? How is this not a form of stagnation? See, style keeps realism vibrant, evolving, and appealing to many different tastes and aesthetics. As such, artistic style actually amplifies the appeal of realism with variety for every taste, rather than distracting from it. Indeed, when we can tell who did what, doesn’t that add spice to our brew? And perhaps even more importantly, style infuses innovation and growth into our arts by always driving our artists forward, keeping them hungry for “more,” whatever that may mean to them. In this, different styles approach the same problem of realism in many different ways, coming to the conundrum from many different angles. And the more brains that work a problem differently, the more solutions and discoveries we’re going to glean from those creative machinations. Really, if you study the very best realistic works throughout history, it becomes patently clear that they’re not only imbued with style, they embrace it! It’s a badge of honor, not a disgrace. Like stroll the works on display at Brookgreen Gardens in South Carolina for a day, an entire sculpture park dedicated to realistic sculpture, and very quickly, you see how potent style is for heightening not only realism itself, but our appreciation of it as well.

This brings us to number three: The truth is, there’s many different ways to convey reality — there’s no one right way. Like, if you study how different realistic works tackle hair, for instance, you quickly discover that it can be sculpted in many different ways that are all convincing. For example, we have the suggestion of hair by Veryl Goodnight to the highly detailed depiction of hair by Marilyn Newmark, and both work equally well. And if you study paintwork, you see that many different approaches to media and color use and technique, and even shading and highlight, are all wholly passable as “realistic.” Even the way anatomy is conveyed in clay is open to many different interpretations, all comfortably within the bubble of realism. So why not play around in that bubble? Why not explore and expand and grow? Diversity is the spice of life as they say, and this is absolutely true even for equine realism.

And fourth, some style can actually accentuate reality, can actually amplify the overall impression much better than a literal approach. For example, as scale shrinks, the more interpretive both the sculpting and painting need to become to stay in scale because, as we all know, scale is the very foundation of realistic art. So here, hinting at things stylistically becomes far more effective in getting the piece to read “realistic” than doing something literally. We can see this effect in painted details like ticking or tiny sculptural details like moles, for instance, on mini or micro scales. Or, for example, certain kinds of stylized brushwork can produce a more realistic overall impression than rendering something literally. We often see this with the hair-by-hair technique that can quickly become regimented and contrived due to our brain’s pattern recognition response, steering the paintwork away from the organic chaos necessary for that needed dose of believable reality. Instead, using a “randomizing” stylistic brushwork technique like with stencil brushes or toothbrush flicking to lay the template for that organic chaos could have been the more convincing route.

A Big Stage

Put all this together and it becomes evident rather quickly that even within the tight confines of realism, there’s still plenty of room for artistic style. Heck, just judge a photo show or head on over to a live show to see the vast kaleidoscope of possibilities that can do well.

So on that note then, let’s take a look at a slew of Vintage Customs to show us the power of style in equine realism. Study how each one is so distinctive and fleshes out “realism” all the more with its own special take. And Vintage Customs are very handy examples of artistic style because when they were created so long ago, the artists often created their pieces in relative isolation. Indeed, when many of these works were made, the Internet didn’t exist yet or was rudimentary, print was often in black and white and rare, live shows were few and far between, and the how-to landscape just didn’t exist yet online or through Zoom classes. As such, artists had to come up with their own methodology and aesthetic, often from scratch, having to reinvent the wheel for themselves. All this gave rise to a plethora of very strong styles within the bubble of realism which isn't only a fun feature when collecting Vintage Customs but which also happens to serve as great education on style in our art form, too! So let’s go!…

Can we see how each artist has their own distinguishable, unique style? Really, we can tell who did the piece just by looking at it yet, still, their work falls inside the bubble of reality even so. So do we see how much wiggle room there actually is? And can we make out just how much appeal and diversity style adds to realism? Nowadays, however, style is a bit more suppressed in comparison to the works of yesteryear when things were more loosey goosey and off the cuff. The demand for more ever-more technical accuracy today has simply put more pressure on style to conform to far more stringent technical expectations of "realism," corralling it in tighter confines. Nevertheless, there's still plenty of room for stylistic expression and appreciation! Simply study the works out there now to get a full breadth of the options within the bubble of reality that thrive despite the more unforgiving bar. For example, study the works of the European painters today with their more painterly, brushworky approach to paintwork that still works brilliantly well for realism. Or compare the work of the pastel artists to the oil artists to the acrylic artists to gather just how big that bubble actually is! Also notice how you can tell who sculpted what resin often by simply just looking at it. Like Scott, Parks, Kilbourn, Bennett, Eberl, Brock, Cantrell, Kurila, Journoud, Williams, and Rose, for example, they're all easily distinguishable yet each still falls inside the bubble of realism. What's more, each of their styles has something novel and special to offer your collection that you can't get any other way. All that is style happily at work!

The Caveats

Now — yes — if style runs rampant in our work, unchecked by technical accuracy, we’re going to run afoul of realism. Remember — those rules again. So the trick is keeping our style within the confines of those rules which can be a delicate dance at times for sure, especially when we get caught up in the wonderful fever of creativity. But even if we two-step a bit to far at times, that's okay — we’re exploring the boundaries of the art form and our work. Ultimately, we’ll figure it out to find our steady state, to learn to rein it in a bit to maintain our style while still remaining inside that necessary reality bubble.

But how do we know when we’ve gone too far? And therein lies the tricky question. See, since everyone perceives reality differently, no one has a truly objective perspective of reality. Why? Because reality will always be formulated through one's own individual perception filter, and everyone’s filter is different. What’s even trickier, this includes you! As such, we typically never See our own style because it’s simply that facet of our work that just makes it look right to us. This is one of the reasons why we cringe at our older work because it’s of an older style we now See with more experience behind us. So if we can’t even See our own style in the thick of it, how can we determine its nature? Or in other words, if we can't See our own style, how can we determine if we've gone beyond the bubble?

Some handy advice then is three-fold. First, seek advice from multiple trusted sources with the pointed question, “Is my work too stylized to be realistic?” And getting multiple inputs is necessary to get a better overall idea of how your work is perceived. When it comes to this issue, never rely on just one or two critiques — aim for five to seven. You want a Big Picture impression. Because if all of them suggest that — yes — our work goes over the boundary a bit too much, we have a more solid handle on the nature of our stylistic problems. But if only one or two suggest so, their own reality filters might be skewing their perception. And never forget — everyone is going at their own pace on their own learning curves. And if they’re doing it right, even the very best in our genre are still learning and evolving.

Second, do some artistic exercises that more objectively compare your work to reality. For example, take a photo of one of your sculpted heads from the side profile. Upload that into a photo editing program and make a tracing in a bright color of the outline of the head and the features and musculature. Then do the same to your referenced head photo in a contrasted bright color — then overlay the two. Where your sculpted head diverges away from the actual head is where your style is skewing your Eye. Or for paintwork, take a quality neutral-lighting shot of your paintjob then upload that into a photo editing program side-by-side with your reference. Where the color and color blocking skewed is where your style was steering you off the map. What’s more, an enthusiastic use of proportional calipers throughout the sculpting process can help you stay on track. This is because all realistic sculpting actually is is getting the spatial relationships right. Really, get all those spatial relationships on point and you “fill the space” with a realistic sculpture automatically. So a handy trick is to print out your reference photo and mark out the proportions on that printout before starting work. This will familiarize yourself with those spatial relationships prior to jumping in and give you a solid reference to map out your proportional points on your sculpture.

And third, actively employ a “fresh eye” approach to your work by putting it away for a couple of weeks, out of sight and out of mind. Then come back to it more detached and objective, perhaps allowing you to better spot the stylistic skews that push the piece out of that coveted reality bubble. Taking photographs of your work and seeing it through the more objectifying eye of a camera lens can help, too, especially when you reverse images in a photo editing program, or invert the colors, or greyscale the image for a whole new take. Also consider looking at your piece "backwards" in a hand mirror every so often as that can provide an immediate fresh new view as well.

But many stylistic skews don't just reside with artists. Perhaps even more, they're found in the public in the form of stylizations they interpret as "more correct" or "more realistic." Now this is fine given the majority of the public had a savvy eye with a big enough knowledge base to account for exceptions or other aspects that reside within the reality bubble, but the problem is — it usually doesn't. In fact, it's typically quite the opposite. Instead, the general public tends to have very strong stylistic biases which are usually rooted in exceedingly conventional tastes. Like, for instance, the public will insist on the depiction of Saddlebreds in the conventional trotting phase when you want to depict another phase of the trot, compelling most of the public to decry that as "wrong" or "ugly." But it's not! Or, for example, most people prefer unnaturally short backs in their equine art when in life, horse backs are longer than their tastes accept or even recognize. Indeed, during George Stubbs era of equine art, artists knew full well how to paint an actual realistic horse, but those paintings didn't sell well. Instead then, they deliberately stylized equine heads smaller, eyes larger, necks longer, bone finer, hooves smaller, and backs shorter to denote "high bred" horses in their art, to differentiate them from the "common" horse so prevalent at the time. And those stylizations are still very strong in the public's tastes. Simply study Maureen Love's work or the highly stylized art in the Arabian horse genre to get a clear indication of how these skews still operate today. And many people may not even be aware of some actual breeds that look stylized in life like the Akhal-Teke or the Sztumski type of Polish Coldblood, for instance. These two breeds are just built so differently that if someone isn't familiar with all their qualities, they'll label a realistic rendition of them as "incorrect." The point is, the general public can be greatly if not completely blinded to actual realism in a multitude of ways, so be ready for back blow if you "go against the grain." And also be ready for your work to meet with crickets while more stylized and unrealistic work — that better pings these public skews — meets with wild kudos. And, yes, this can be incredibly frustrating for a realism-based artist because it's like constantly hitting your head against a wall! But if you're right — you're right! Stick to your guns!

Conclusion

Whatever our goals with our work and whatever our challenges may be, it’s important to embrace our own style. Really, it’s a unique feature of our own individuality and a critical component to our work no matter how realistic we want to make it. It makes our work distinct from everyone else’s, letting us stake our claim in this demanding art form among the sea of work out there. Our style also adds to the vibrant flavor of equine realism as our unique interpretations of the subject adds depth, relevance, freshness, and meaning to what could so easily degenerate into something sterile and soulless. Our style is also our best form of branding, of advertising. Like if someone can immediately identify a beautiful piece as our work because of its style, that’s the best publicity possible, isn’t it? All in all then, our style is truly one of our artistic superpowers! Wield it with zest and enthusiasm!

"Comparison is the death of joy," said Mark Twain, and he was absolutely right. So even when our project deviates away from the proverbial class example — the real deal — that’s okay. We’re making our own creative decisions and selections as we find our way. It’s a feature of artistic confidence, not failure. So think of ideal examples as a springboard, a launchpad for our own development and explorations rather than the end all and be all final word. They’re just the start, right? We should make the offered processes and ideas our own without overthinking them too much, allowing our own style to infuse into them to make them truly our own.

Ultimately then, style keeps equine realism alive and kickin’ and, best of all, keeps it fun to collect and appreciate. Absolutely, studying all the different ways all the artists reinterpret reality over and over and over again is fascinating and electric, as each one adds some novel twist or creative point of view. And again, the more brains that come at the problem from different angles, the more likely we’ll all key in on that ever-moving target of realism. So pop on your top hat and bow tie, grab your cane and patent leather shoes…and hit the dance floor like Fred Astaire — style to burn and flair to flaunt! Let’s see your fancy moves! The beat of our art form is big enough to welcome your own drum, so drum away it with relish and confidence! We can’t wait to see how you strut your stuff in high style!

“No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist.”

— Oscar Wilde

The Gooier Factor

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Mon, 22 Sep 2025 17:41:00 +0000

Preface

Back in 2015, I wrote The Goo Factor, a discussion about all the fleshy details and effects the living animal intrinsically has on their bodies. So now ten years later, I've updated that discussion and added some illustrative images to help along our understanding because it's often through seeing the points discussed that we come to better grasp the concepts, right? So let's dive into this new exploration to reap more squishy insights!...

Introduction

As sculptors of equine realism, we have to balance multiple facets of the animal to recreate a convincing result in clay. Indeed, there are so many variables at play, all existing on a sliding scale of accuracy. Yet at the basis of it all are our anatomy charts, reference photos, field study, and various tidbits from our mental library, all working together to get us as close as possible to achieving that coveted goal of technical realism. As such, bony landmarks, muscle configurations, veining patterns, proportions, planes and placements, contours and angles all consume our attention to ensure we hit our mark. Conformation, breed type, gender characteristics also play their part. Gesture, expression, posture, and composition contribute their necessary qualities, too, as does technique, tool manipulation, and smoothing methods. All these things add their unique and critical touch to our work, hopefully recreating this splendid creature in as faithful a manner we can muster.

Yet there's one aspect of this animal that's so sublime and mercurial that it rarely gets its fair due. And because its qualities morph so quickly and so quirky, they literally go unseen by most. And it's no surprise why anatomy charts lack it altogether since, as a matter of course, it's typically all stripped away to reveal the coveted muscle masses and bony orientations. This element also often goes against the grain in its configurations than are shown on an anatomy chart, perhaps making some shy from expressing them in their sculpture altogether. For all these reasons, many sculptors end up overlooking it completely, focusing almost entirely on everything but this one quintessential element so critical for realism.

Yet this missing element is as important as anything else—yes—even as important as bone, muscle, tendon and ligament, planes, placement and proportion by lending realistic life and moment to flesh. Without it, in fact, it's impossible to convey the essence of living flesh altogether! So if we want to keep our sculptures from appearing too mechanical, more like postured anatomy charts rather than living, breathing beasts, this vital component is an equal imperative in our priority list.

But what is it? What's this elusive substance that goes unaddressed so universally? What could possibly have that much power in our work, yet be so ignored? What could be so critical that goes so missing?

It's goo. Yes—goo. That mushy, gooshy magical substance, that warm wonderful flesh, that glorious jiggly, gooey, squishy stuff we can call goo.

As such, goo is truly one of my most favorite things to sculpt! It's amazing how it'll kick a sculpture up to the next "living" level, ramping up the realism in such a sublime way. A feature of anatomy in the ABCs (anatomy, biomechanics and color genetics), goo is critical for a convincing equine sculpture, one that looks like an actual living animal rather than an artificial, static reproduction. Goo also pulls and pushes anatomy away from its tidy formulas we see on a chart, making flesh exist in a mercurial moment of distortion and novel expression so typical of life. Infuse this into our clay then and we create a piece with more immediacy and anima, one that doesn't exist in a "reality vacuum" of contrived formula or a habitual expression of flesh. Goo also asks us to infuse little details like whisker bumps/moles, veins, capillaries, bug bites, bumps, ripples, and other hide or skin eccentricities that compel our hand away from the contrivance of smooth, polished surfaces and more towards the look of touchable, textured, and imperfect flesh. More still, goo requires us to factor physics more into our compositions, and so we really have to start paying more attention to inertia, centrifugal force, and other forces that impact flesh in so many ways. Similarly, goo needs us to become far more sensitive to the animal as well...far far more. How so? Well, when we're able to key in on their emotional reactions and psychological responses, we can better see how all that is expressed throughout their body in muscle tension or relaxation, balance shifts, posture, bracing, or other biomechanical subtleties, and make no mistake—all that gets expressed in goo, too. So put it all together, we can call all these effects The Goo Factor.

But it doesn't end there! Goo also requires a new kind of Sight, one that actually deepens our appreciation for our craft and this lovely animal in ways that values the esoteric and quirky, things that add dimension and depth to our portfolio. As such, we'll find that infusing goo into our work also helps to really ignite our inspirations and enthusiasm in the studio in whole new ways. Really, goo just makes sculpting that much more fun! What's more, goo infusion requires us to See and interpret flesh in whole new ways, ways that will expand our understanding of anatomy, moment, sculpting technique, and even shift our artistic goals. You see, when sculpting isn't just about capturing this and that accurately, but also about exploring new ways to interpret flesh and how it can break the "rules," our job just became that much more interesting, didn't it?

So how did I have this epiphany about goo? Well, you can thank fat rats. You see, it dawned on me some years back as I was pondering how to take my sculptures beyond the lifeless illustration of an anatomy chart and into the world of fleshy, kinetic animals full of anima and immediacy. Then out of the blue...ta-da! I had a revelation of sorts, inspired by studying the goo on my plump ratties—indeed, it was all about goo! I realized I couldn’t just sculpt the muscle masses as I understood them, as they were depicted in all my anatomy charts—I had to sculpt as they existed in life, and that's very different from a static clinical chart. Flesh doesn’t just hang on the bones like an inert mass nor is it always taut and firm and precisely delineated. It has a life of its own, a morphing resonance with movement, physics, and moment which must be infused to capture that look of living realism, of the "living moment." That's to say while an anatomy chart may be tidy and perfect, Nature is everything but! Absolutely, Nature is mercurial, messy, changeable, and amoebic, it's organic with a logic all its own. It resists the human penchant for order and black-and-white thinking to instead offer us and endless spectrum of options and surprising effects.

But even more critically, much of The Goo Factor is simply stripped away in dissection such as fat, skin, hide, fascia, and other tissues to expose the musculature and bone. What does this mean? That nearly all our anatomical references are prejudicial. Why? Because these critical gooey qualities rarely, if ever, even make it into anatomical references, in whole or in part, text or illustration, giving us only a fraction of the whole anatomical equation. This is a danger of leaning too much into our anatomical charts then—they don't tell the whole story. There are multiple need-to-know ingredients that are missing! In essence then, if we do lean into those charts too much, too literally, our sculpture will be anatomically incomplete.

What Is Goo?

No matter how fit or fat the animal, all horses have goo. But what is it exactly? Well, it entails all the flesh, really, since all flesh is essentially The Goo Factor itself. Anything that's squishy, fleshy, and deformable is goo. Basically, it's anything that's not bone or cartilage, callus, horn or hair. Going further then, it also entails all the fleshy morphing and movements, the distortions, the compressing and stretching, jiggling, the pooching and squishing, and all the other contortions and changes flesh and muscle undergo in motion and in response to physics, encapsulating the "living moment." Flesh isn't static! It reacts to movement, physics, and emotion in very mercurial, happenstance ways, often contorting and jiggling well away from the neat packages depicted on anatomy charts. For example, fleshy delineations will morph from a standing position to a moving configuration, meaning this: We cannot strictly apply a standing anatomy chart to a moving position as goo simply alters its delineations as its all shifted, squished, and activated. This makes our reference photos and life study so important by providing us the clues and guidance needed for this new territory...so lean into them. In other words, the more your sculpture depicts motion, the more you should be leaning into your references and life study and the more you should be leaning away from a static, standing anatomy chart. Really, our anatomy charts are better used as guides, as simplified, clarifying illustrations, not as gospel. We can never forget two truths about anatomy charts: 1. They were created from dead horses and, 2. they are someone's arbitrary, formulaic attempt to make contrived sense out of messy, chaotic Nature. This is why anatomy charts often differ from each other, why some have missing muscles or elements: Each author interpreted the anatomy differently. So grasp onto anatomy charts lightly.

What's more, we can think of goo as fascia, hide, skin, fat and mushy bits that lie atop and between muscles, tendons, ligaments, cartilage, horn, callous, and bone, which resonates and reacts to movement, tension, and emotion. It's all the extra bits that are so very important for giving our sculpted flesh as much real life as possible. Absolutely, just as structure is to anatomy, movement is to biomechanics, as character is to anima, as moment is to posture—goo is to flesh. It imbues character, quirkiness, life, and moment to our sculpted flesh, so with it, our sculpture will appear more alive, dynamic, more as a living, breathing, fleshy creature existing in a "living moment" rather than a reality vacuum. Because, on the other hand, without it our sculpted flesh will appear mechanical and static, as rigid and dead as an anatomical chart. Our body of work will begin to appear homogenous and predictable, too, since that's all an anatomy chart can offer us, a static, inert formula. The truth is all living horses have living goo, and so our sculptures do best to mimic that if we hope to come as close as we can to not just realism but life, or the "living moment" as well.

But granted, infusing goo isn't easy. Why? Because goo is changeable! It's squishable, mooshable, oozeable, stretchable, wrinkable, compressible, poochable, tension-able, touchable, and oh, so inviting. Don't we love to ooze the gooey parts of our pets? The gushy, warm, fleshy, soft portions like dog ears and faces and necks, and the bellies of our cats? Or the entirety of a glorious rotund rat?

Well, horses have goo, too! Their fleshy muzzles and eyebrows are obvious examples, as are the fleshy wrinkles between their forelegs. Other examples are wrinkles and folds on the neck and at strategic areas of bending, compression, or twisting. Their muscles can be gooey as well as they distort, mush, pooch, and stretch in relation to motion. They can even jiggle, ripple, and wriggle with the physics of motion, too, or become more rigid and tense with posture, tension, or emotion, so look for all these effects in life study and references. For example, the pectorals are very changeable with posture, tension, and motion, often distorting quite a bit in the mercurial moment. And look for how the triceps can ripple and morph between relaxation and tension in motion. The neck is also quite gooshy, being amoebic in articulation, seeming to gain length when stretched and shorten when tucked. If we play close attention, too, we'll even see that neck muscles can ripple and swing in unison with inertia, say around a tight turn, or pivot, or over a jump. But just as much, also look for goo in hide and fascia detail such as on the neck, shoulders, triceps and hindquarters, for instance, and other areas of the body. Horses are rarely smooth like polished marble, they have texture and often a lot of it! So look for wrinkles, bumps, squiggles, crinkling, bug bites, and all manner of textural details on the living animal you can infuse into your clay. They're going to add so much life to your sculpture being a whole new level of realism to capture!

The Missing Factor

But there's another kind of goo often unnoticed, but vital nonetheless: Fascia. This magical stuff usually gets the short end of the stick in dissections and anatomical illustrations, being treated like a disposable connective tissue of no circumstance. But the fact is fascia is anything but disposable and inconsequential! It glues the skin on, houses the "fly shaker" muscles, binds the entire body together, wrapping around everything, giving shape and support to the muscles, suspending the organs, and creating a network of interconnected, communicating systems that responds to posture, motion, physics, injury, emotion, tension and relaxation just as much as any muscle. It's as much a part of anatomy as any muscle or bone.

Indeed, altogether, it actually constitutes the largest percentage of body tissue and is all made of collagen of varying qualities and textures. Aside from its many structural and connective functions, it also serves as heat sinks, cushions, and tissues that reduce friction and create areas of needed expansion (like around vessels, veins, and arteries). As such, there are five basic kinds of fascia:

“Spiderweb”: Acts as a supportive, connective, suspensory, shape-making network.
“Bubblewrap": Serves as a heat sink, reducer of friction, provider of expansion space, and is also a major kind of contouring fascia. Generally, it has a watery or often oily fluid in it, and sometimes air. For example, there's a lot of bubblewrap fascia under the scapula and around the point of shoulder to mediate all the friction.
“Tarp”: Non-stretchy and wraps around something such as the aponeurosis of the torso.
“Gel wrap”: A wrapping of jello-like consistency, its loose connective wrapping often serves as a heat sink.
Tensor Fascia Latae (TFL): It pops the patella off the “thumb stay” of the femur to release the Stay Apparatus to “take the patella off the hook." It also helps in lateral work by working as an abductor and a weak protractor and guards against locked stifles. Visually, it often manifests as an obvious strip from the point of hip to the stifle.

Clearly, there's much more to fascia than previously thought! Truly, it can be easily argued that fascia is as important as muscle and bone, tendon and ligament in the living animal, and so the same can be said for sculpture, too. For instance, it's often fascia that helps to give hide its various textures and character, whether at rest or in motion. Because if we pay close attention, we find that flesh has surface eccentricities we shouldn't be afraid to input as oddities in the surface of our sculptures, accentuating the appearance of living flesh. Again, ripples, bumps, stretches, wrinkles, crinkles, squiggles and other curiosities are typical of the equine hide, features that need our attention just as much as muscle and bone.

More still, paying attention to goo not only adds life to our sculpture, but it can heighten the sense of motion and moment as well. Truly, depicting skin that compresses, stretches, pooches, ripples, squiggles, jiggles, and wriggles can add kinetic features to our clay that can amplify the sense of effort, physics, centrifugal force, or speed. For example, carefully placing pooching goo in a composition can heighten the sense of moving flesh and mass, adding a sense of weight to our piece. Or for instance, adding strategic wrinkles to the hindquarter can heighten the sense of effort and motion in a trotting, cavorting, rearing, or racking piece, etc.

So What's The Hoopla With Goo?

In a nutshell, goo adds life, or "living moment," back into our depiction of technical anatomy. Without it, structure remains mechanical, inert, and sterile; our piece will appear as a static, formulaic sculpture rather than as a living, kinetic, fleshy animal. Goo also accentuates everything else in a sculpture. For example, goo makes hard bony areas or firm muscle masses more believable because of the contrast it creates. Delicate wrinkles on a firm neck or mushy veins on hard bone really help to impart the idea of a living animal with real mass, living anatomy, and the moment's immediacy. Goo is also a blast to sculpt, with curves and gooshy features that allow an artist to play, providing a welcome contrast to the precise technical demands of realistic sculpture. And, ultimately, goo offers a deeper understanding of the structure and physics of the animal, beyond the strict mechanics of the anatomy, which can deepen our appreciation for our aesthetics and techniques, and even better, for the beauty of this lovely creature, too.

The truth is that anatomy is the blueprint—yes—but without imbued life, a sculpture is simply a representational, formulaic facsimile of that blueprint. This is fine unless we really want to capture that rare anima that brings our sculpture to life, that adds that living energy beyond simple representation. Because we must remember that every anatomical chart ever conceived was created from dead horses that probably had their goo removed so unless we compensate, our work based on those charts will be equally lifeless and incomplete. Part of that compensation is factoring in goo, that peculiar nature of flesh, to instill vitality back into our clay. Because if we step back and really think about it, we see that the living animal doesn't move like an articulated anatomy chart, like a jointed paper doll. This is because the animal's bony anatomy is encapsulated in goo which compresses and stretches, expands, pooches and mooshes, comes under tension or relaxes in tandem with articulation, emotion, and physics. Like just study how powerful inertia is on the rippling of muscles and flesh alone when the critter is really cavorting around!

So What Kinds Of Goo Are There?

What kinds of goo exist? Well, a lot! Wherever there’s something fleshy and mooshy, there’s goo. So to get your exploration started, look for these kinds of goo, for example:

Wrinkles: These are folds of skin, either small and delicate or rather bulbous, in larger rolls. They can appear on the neck, throatlatch, between the ears, between the forelegs, on the pastern when flexed, in the elbow area, on the flanks, on the hindquarter or were the buttock meets the back of the gaskin when the hindleg is flexed or extended, on the barrel, and really everywhere compression, stretching, or bending happens. They're also common on the face, such as around the ears, the brows, lips, and muzzle, and that wonderful squishy chin. Studying the living animal and photos will reveal that wrinkles are very common and can appear in the most unexpected places. Because wrinkles are folds of skin, they can also be more substantial like those on the crest of a Welsh Cob stallion or Drafter, or sometimes on the torso if the horse is really bending around, perhaps to scratch an itch. And it doesn’t matter if a horse is wiry or pudgey, various types of wrinkles always occur, and so infusing them into our sculpture will do wonders for adding life's texture and moment.
Squiggles: Textural goo can show up as crinkling or squiggles on the face, neck, chest, shoulder, tricep area, and sometimes the lower haunch, flank and elbow areas, so look for it in field study and in references.
Strap marks: Sometimes on the barrel, longitudinal delineations can be seen so look for them in references and life study.
Pock marking: The nostril flare surface texture can have pocked, pebbled appearance at times, especially if that area has been closely clipped or is in a slick summer coat.
Depressions and concavities: Goo also manifests itself in the depressions and concavities muscle contours assume, especially when in motion, as the flesh is compressed, stretched, gooshed, pushed, pulled and pooched, forming dips and channels that don’t exist when the horse is simply standing. Remember, the horse is a 3D animal and so his muscles don’t simply move over each other, they also dip in and out and smoosh and shift around each other during contraction or relaxation, or in response to physics and motion. That is to say, muscles don’t only move back and forth and up and down, they also move in and out. This kind of goo does amazing things for sculpture by instilling a sense of mass and fleshiness, keeping it from becoming a “flattened” technical depiction of anatomy we see in a diagram. Truly, muscles aren't stiff, fixed masses, but kinetic and squishy, dynamic features, producing lovely surface contours as they react to each other, tension, and the physics of motion.
Sliding skin: The skin isn’t attached to the muscles or bone on the whole of its inner surface as though natured coated it with spray adhesive. Rather, skin is tacked down by fascia at random points, allowing the skin to slide over muscles or bony areas with relative ease. And the more mobile an area, the more likely the skin is slide-able over that area. For example, the skin on the elbow has a lot of sliding ability, which you can watch every time a horse lifts his foreleg. Also look for this effect on the ribs, stifle, and shoulder. Like watch how a horse flexes his hindleg and see how the stifle slides under the skin, or when a horse breaths deeply, how his ribs slide back and forth and out and in underneath the skin.
Amoeba: When studying motion, it’s important not to interpret the body as moving like a stick-figure or an articulated paper doll. Granted, movement occurs at the joints and those joints have parameters for articulation and the bones have their fixed dimensions, but within those parameters is life, the "living moment." That means it’s a mistake to think only of the skeleton and forget that its cloaked in flesh that smooshes, pooches, and stretches during articulation. This is the amoebic nature of flesh and understanding this concept is essential for "living realism." For example, notice how a deeply flexed hindleg will cause the gaskin to smoosh into the hindquarter musculature, with all sorts of wrinkles and gooshing? The skeleton does articulate, yes, but it doesn't do so in a vacuum! Always remember that it does so enveloped in glorious goo! Which leads to…
Distortion: Because the skeleton is buried in flesh that morphs, when it articulates, muscle bellies are stretched, compressed, and pooched, distorting away from their normal appearance when standing. And the less an area is characterized by subcutaneous bone, the more this distortion can happen. Indeed, one of the most lovely and interesting aspects of sculpting movement is how the flesh changes in response. The neck, pectorals, shoulder, triceps, and hindquarter are typically the sites of the most distortion, so observe them on real horses to get a better understanding of just how much this effect comes into play when interpreting motion. But also study the barrel as the flesh there is highly responsive to moment and motion as well.
Stretching: Flesh stretches and can often stretch a lot. Clear examples of this can be seen in the elbow and flank area as those little skin flaps that stretch when the limb is extended. Another clear example is the skin overlaying the girth and triceps area, which can be seen to stretch when that forearm really extends forwards. Also muscle bellies can be stretched during extension, which is easily observed around the shoulder and hinquarter when the respective legs are extended forwards or backwards, or in the pectoral area, when the forelegs are abducted, for instance.
Compression: The opposite of stretching is compression, and flesh definitely undergoes that! For example, study neck goo when the neck is tucked as compared to stretched out, or the hindquarter muscles when the hindleg is greatly articulated in a bend as compared to being extended out. And where you find compression, you usually find wrinkles of some kind, and especially pooching and distorted flesh, so pay attention to that in your life study and references.
Muscle resonance: This sublime manifestation of goo occurs when inertia acts upon relaxed portions of flesh, making them jiggle and wiggle, flop or ripple in resonance to the physics of movement. For instance, look for a bowed posterior portion of the forearm on an extended foreleg because the flexor muscles are relaxed, or how the triceps goo and hollow and ripple when relaxed, or the sternomandibularis muscles jiggling, rippling, or bowed due to the inertia of a sharp turn or spin, or how a hefty crest can wobble or jiggle with the physics of motion or the pull of the mane's weight. Our eye often misses these moments, but when our Eye is honed, we'll be able to observe such effects in living horses and then in photos. They add a wonderful touch to sculpture!

Tips For Infusing The Goo Factor

Ok, so now that we know about goo, let's get it into our clay. To that end, here are some tips:

We should know our anatomy. Goo can distort or hide anatomical structures, so if we’re going to learn about goo, we have to first know about anatomy first otherwise we'll get confused. We have to learn the rules before we can tweak them!
Life study is a must. We cannot learn about goo by simply studying photos or anatomical diagrams. We have to study the living animal and spend a lot of focused time observing how living flesh behaves and feels.
Don’t overdo. The sculpture will look odd if we make the effects too extreme by getting carried away and therefore making your hard bone or cartilage even appear gooey, for example. The trick is to find an interpretation that gets the point across that’s both technically accurate and artistically pleasing.
Know your goo. Work to identify the different types of goo and under what circumstances they appear. For example, wrinkles are always present in one place or another while amebic goo mostly occurs around areas of flexion or extension. Also, several types of goo may happen simultaneously, such as wrinkle with concavities and distortions so also pay attention to cumulative effects.
Remember what goo is. Always keep in mind that goo is pliable flesh that squishy, soft, and warm. It’s seductive and alluring and begs to be touched. So we need to keep the goo in our sculpture fleshy and soft looking, avoiding methods that would make it appear harsh, sharp, regimented, or mechanical. That's to say our goo shouldn't look like joint wrinkles on an artificial limb, for instance. In other words, wrinkles shouldn't be regimented or have "plateau tops" because they were just cut in, but have rounded tops and squishy asymmetries in their formation.
Preplan your goo. Because goo is an integral part of our finished sculpture, it’s important to consider how it’s applied. For example, large bundles of rippling, delineated muscle on a Quarter Horse are fun, but aren't always accurate on a smooth-bodied Arabian. Jiggling muscles on a standing sculpture will look strange as would static goo on a moving sculpture. So identify the appropriate types of goo and the necessary degree needed for it to complement our sculpture while still conveying reality.
Think in terms of curves. Lean away from straight lines and straight planes when sculpting muscle masses. Horses are made of flesh, not polished sheet metal.
Details count. Veins, whisker bumps/moles, bumps, bug bites, and pebbly or squiggly hide textures contribute to the illusion of fleshiness, so instill them when appropriate.
Notice how goo stacks on top of each other sometimes. Like veins can run across areas of squiggly texture or some wrinkles can have bug bites on them.
Goo has a cumulative effect as the addition of each new type of goo adds more complexity and realism to a piece. So don't rely on just one type of goo to carry the sculpture. Look for and infuse as much as you can into the piece as suggested by life study and your references.
Tackle goo in stages. In other words, you don't have to infuse it all in at once. Think about what can be done in a more controlled sequence for the best results. For instance, perhaps wrinkling and pock marking can be done alongside the sculpting stages while veining and whisker bumps can be completed as a last stage on the hard copy of a sculpture.
Note how some goo is really obvious like wrinkling or dipped or pooching contours while other goo is more subtle like crinkling and squiggling. So "adjust the volume" on your goo for the most realistic result.
Study other artists. Taking note on how other artists sculpturally express goo will help us decide how we wish to approach it in our work.
Study horses in short summer coats or clipped coats for a better idea of all the kinds of goo you'll encounter. And be sure to study goo on the different ages and breeds, too, as they can influence the nature of goo. For instance, a thin-skinned Teke will often exhibit a lot more skin goo factors than a "thicker skinned" draft horse, or foals can have a lot deeper depressions in their muscle masses when they move because they lack obscuring fat.

Because of its fleshiness, sculpting goo can be tricky. So for a head start, avoid these common missteps:

Wrinkle bundling: Characterized by a discreet bundle of tidy wrinkles, tightly amassed around an articulated area and possessing a definite border between the wrinkles and the surrounding unwrinkled flesh. In reality, wrinkles fade in and out and often blend gently with the surrounding flesh with no real border; it’s often very chaotic, messy, and gradual.
"Topped" or "plateau" wrinkles: When the tops of the wrinkles aren't rounded, but flattened because they were quickly cut into the surface without the edges being knocked down, rounded, and smoothed.
Accordion wrinkles: When the wrinkling is too regimented when in reality, wrinkles often vary in thickness, length, and orientation, and can fold within each other or stack on top of each other, creating asymmetries in the wrinkle pattern. So each wrinkle shouldn't be the same size or width nor should they be evenly spaced and regimented. In life, wrinkles are much more chaotic. Remember, a wrinkle is a bit of folded, soft flesh, and so our sculpted hide shouldn't behave like a segmented accordion. Always work from references when sculpting them.
Slashing: Again, a wrinkle is folded flesh, so we should try to avoid tooling that causes a slashed, harsh, sharp, topped, or grooved look. Keep them rounded, soft, and squishy looking.
Channeling: Muscle masses are rounded and curved, and so the defining grooves between them are often softer and more mercurial than anatomy charts depict. So we should avoid tooling that creates a harshly carved groove into the clay to denote muscle definition, with sharp edges and lacking that rounded, amoebic, softened nature of living muscle masses.
Excess: So much about recreating convincing goo is knowing when to apply it and when not to, and in which areas and why, and in what varied intensity best gets the point across. If we don't apply goo, our sculpture will appear too static whereas if we apply too much, it'll appear lumpy and odd. Goo is a very powerful element to our sculpture so be clear and strategic when applying it.
Too Harsh: The thing about goo is this—it's softened and usually subdued (with the exception of wrinkles). So lean into subtlety rather than sculpting goo too obviously and in too amplified a manner across the board.
Incorrect planing, proportions, or placement: No amount of well sculpted goo can compensate for errors in structure. So before you apply goo or texture, be sure your underlying anatomy and biomechanics are correct.

Methods For Sculpting Goo

There are certain tricks we can apply to our clay to help the goo sculpting fun along. Here are some techniques to get you started:

When sculpting wrinkles, lay down a sheet of thickish plastic (like the clear plastic on bread packaging) onto your clay and sculpt the wrinkles on top of that, pushing the plastic sheet into the clay. The plastic sheet will round the tops of the wrinkles for you and result in a nice fleshy look. Then gently peel it up, clean up and detail out a little bit, and voilá! (If sculpting in epoxy clay, use plastic wrap instead, or some sort of thinner plastic because epoxy clay is often softer than oil clay or ceramic clay.)
You can sculpt wrinkles in by adding tiny, skinny snakes and then softening and blending with solvents and brushes. Which brings us to...
Use a smoothing solvent and soft brushes (in rounds and filberts) to smooth gooey areas to preserve their soft, fleshy look. For ceramic clay, use clean water. For oil clay, use turpenol: 60% turpenoid and 40% 91% rubbing alcohol. For epoxy clay, use 91% rubbing alcohol.
To create the crinkly texture on the neck, shoulders, triceps and sometimes on the lower haunch, use your sculpting tool to squish in networks of little Figure-8s and tiny circles and squiggles, then gently smooth and melt them into the surface with your solvent and brushes. You can leave strategic bumps, too, to add to the textural interest.
To create veins, use messo and a skinny round brush with long bristles. Messo is a mixture of 60% Modeling Paste (Liquitex works well) and 40% gesso (Liquitex gesso works well), thinned with water to the consistency of milk and "beaded" on with the brush. That's to say, draw your vein on with a tip held perpendicular to the surface to create an elongated beading of messo.
When the messo is the consistency of heavy cream, you can dab on tiny whisker bumps with this stuff, too. (When it's unthinned with water, you can use it to dab on and texturize chestnuts and ergots.)
Don't be so eager to "outline" muscles to delineate them. Instead, hint at their outlines when you can with strategic dips and concavities rather than with grooves.
To create neck texture, slide your sculpting tool side to side from crest to the underline to create randomized small squiggly ridges and subtle squiggly grooves, then melt and smooth them a bit with your solvent and brushes to quiet them. You can even go back in with messo on the hard copy master to add more details like bumps and amplified ridges and ripples.
Study how wrinkling manifests on the brows, lips, muzzle, and between the nostrils, and try to input that—in scale—on your sculpture, using your solvent and brushes to smooth and soften.
Try different tools for creating wrinkles. Often something as simple as a pointed toothpick or a sharpened pencil works well, but small blade tools are also handy.
When sculpting wrinkles in epoxy clay, soften and goo-ify the clay by mixing in some 91% rubbing alcohol and kneading it in, creating more of a doughier, stickier texture. Then use this softened epoxy clay to sculpt in the wrinkles. Why? Because this softened epoxy clay is less prone to tear or pill when you sculpt in the wrinkles. So to do that, place a little blob of this softened epoxy clay in the area you wish then blend the edges into the surrounding areas. Then take your tool and carefully cut in your wrinkles, more concerned about not tearing them up as you sculpt them. Dip you tool into more 91% rubbing alcohol often to lubricate the process. Then when you have your wrinkles configured how you want them, use brushes and the rubbing alcohol to smooth and soften them. Then as the epoxy starts to stiffen in its cure, you can strategically define and deepen them as you wish.
When sculpting in pock marks or puckering, such as on the muzzle or nostril area, poke in a multitude of gentle bumps with a pointed sculpting tool like a sharpened pencil then soften by gently stipling the area with a brush dampened slightly in solvent.
Sculpting texture into your smooth surfaces can seem very uncomfortable at first, but persist! What you're working against is the "blank canvas" effect where you don't want to mar your perfect surface. However, the more textural touches you add, the more natural and living your fleshy surfaces will appear, so keep at it.

How To Study Goo

It's important to understand that goo isn't the same over the entire body. Different areas have different kinds of goo, or textures, at different intensities. For instance, the goo on the muzzle is fleshy and velvety as compared to the goo in the elbow area which is very squishy, smooshy, and silken. Or the goo textures on the neck can be a little bit different from that on the triceps area, the former often having more of a bumpy, ridged look while the latter usually has more of a squiggly, pebbly finish. Also look for different sizes of wrinkles over different areas on the body. For instance, the wrinkles at that throatlatch can be larger than those around the ear. But also note that wrinkles even with a "bundle" vary in size and length, too, so avoid regimentation like an accordion. Mix them up and vary them for a more natural, fleshy look.

Field study is ideal for studying goo! So get out there and study the living animal up close. For example, watching horses in turn-out or on the lunge-line is a good start by creating a focused situation. Pay particular close attention to the shoulders, throatlatch, forearms, elbow area, hindquarter, neck, ears, lips, chest, genitals, crest, and barrel. Look for the compressions, stretching, pooching, dips, wrinkling, wiggling, jiggling, rippling movement with each stride and phase of movement on the horse’s body. Slow motion video is also a great way to study how goo resonates with motion, how it morphs and distorts, ripples and jiggles in synch with the motion, emotion, force, and the moment of the horse’s movement.

Now if you can and the horse is willing, feel the goo with your hands, over various parts of the body. Like feel the different textures and firmness levels then gently press in the musculature to get a sense of standing muscle tonus and feel it tense up or relax as the horse shifts their balance or moves. Programming the textural gooey qualities and differences into our hands is a highly effective means to learn them.

Then when that's under your belt, turnaround and attempt to decipher and identify goo in photos. This type of training can train us about goo very quickly, better enabling us to imbue it into our clay. In fact, we’ll discover that goo is a whole new level of understanding that deepens our appreciation of equine anatomy and lends interest and life to our sculpture in ways otherwise unattainable.

Play around with your sculpting materials and tools. Practice at sculpting wrinkles, for example, on junker models to perfect their qualities. Learn to use your tools in new ways to create the dips and distortions so typical of activated flesh. Hone your Eye to break your own safe formulas and habits in order to decipher and depict morphing flesh more authentically. And trust the process! Sometimes infusing goo can feel odd when sculpting because it's so distorted from the safe formulas of an anatomy chart or our habitual ways of depicting musculature, but dive in all the same and trust that it'll make sense in the end. The fact is that reality can look odd, but that oddness is intrinsic to the "living moment," of life itself, and that can be just the touch of unapologetic factuality our sculpture needs.

Conclusion

Anyone can apply anatomical charts and diagrams to copy the anatomy faithfully into sculpture. That's relatively easily done with a bit of discipline and gumption. But it takes a new kind of understanding to mimic the life of that anatomy to capture and reinstate the nature of living flesh. Indeed, an anatomy chart is one thing, but living flesh is entirely another. If we want to kick our work up a notch in the realism department then, we need to know the difference.

And it's the understanding of goo that helps us transcend the inert lifelessness of a literal technical interpretation by adding character, moment, and life to that anatomical base. It brings the "living moment" back into the equation to communicate the mass, anima, moment, and movement of the animal in ways a strict technical expression will fail to convey. In doing so, we've gone one step closer to capturing living reality in our clay, expressing this lovely animal more completely and faithfully. So, until next time, have fun fleshing out goo in your clay!

"I search for the realness, the real feeling of a subject, all the texture around it...I always want to see the third dimension of something...I want to come alive with the object."

—Andrew Wyeth

A New View: Transforming Intimidation Into Inspiration

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Mon, 01 Sep 2025 16:21:00 +0000

Introduction

We’ve all been there: Sitting there, full of self-doubt and anxiety at the mere thought of creating a new piece that intimidates us, perhaps even intimidated by arting altogether. Maybe somehow our confidence got shook, maybe we’ve taken a too long a break from arting and we feel rusty, maybe we think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew, maybe other artists seem to have raised the bar beyond our assumed capabilities, maybe we’re trying a new medium or process…any number of reasons can put us here. The hard truth is though that self-doubt is part of the arting process because we’re human after all. It’s just something we have to live with and work through, time and again. Yet it can interfere with our inspirations and motivations, raising its ugly head sometimes in unpredictable ways, and so we must be ready to fight for our creativity to prevail. And your arting is worth the fight! Your art is singular in all of space and time, always novel and always fresh. Conformity may be a real social pressure, assembly lines crank out homogeneity, and fast food specializes in uniformity, but your art is absolutely unique in all existence from the beginning to the end of time. Think about that for a second, how important and special that is. Don’t knock it and never forget it!

In the spirit of salvaging that specialness inside of you then, let’s explore some ways to convert that intimidation into inspiration, into a driving motivation that railroads right over that roadblock, with energizing joy and unstoppable enthusiasm. So let’s just get right into it!…

The Strategies

It’s often recommended that you study the work of others to gain some insights and inspiration from the challenges met in other works. And that’s very good advice, granted. However, indulge this too much or in the wrong frame of mind and instead you’ll find yourself intimidated and feeling like you come up short. “Comparison is the death of joy,” said Mark Twain, and he was absolutely right. So be sure to spend more time creating your own art rather than looking at the work of other artists. Stop doom scrolling through studios! Your energy is best spent immersed in your own studio, cranking out your unique vision rather than punishing yourself. Remember that you have your own unique magic — you don’t need the magic of anyone else! Your magic is just as legit and wondrous, so embrace it and never take it for granted. Root yourself there and you’ll provide a rich, nurturing bed for your inspiration to grow and flourish.

Break the process down into baby steps, into achievable, realistic goals. Our art form is pretty demanding, and so many of our methods are complicated and quite labored, and therefore rather intimidating, even mystifying, especially for beginners. But if we simplify things in a step-by-step way rather than having to take it in all at once, we can really make the whole kit n’ kaboodle a lot more logistically accessible. Also try this visualization trick — imagine yourself completing the task three steps ahead. That sorta gives you a pre-loaded reward for a job well done and can really help to keep your motivation fueled forwards.

Are you struggling with a fear of failure? Worried the outcome won’t match your expectations? Crippled by perfectionism? Welcome to life as an artist. The vision in our head is almost always better than the finished product — that’s just how visions work. Plus, we aren’t Nature so we can't create absolute technical authenticity, a perfect horse, no matter how hard we try. Only DNA can do that. Then we have our blindspots and knowledge gaps because that’s a function of our perception, plus there's our insecurities, biases, and quirks because we’re fallible human beings. It all stacks up into this truth: "Perfection" is a moving goalpost so ease up chasing it. Give yourself permission to be you. And that’s what makes art so fascinating, vibrant, beautiful, and human, doesn’t it? The truth is, too, no artist ever is truly fully satisfied with their work. It’s that “divine dissatisfaction” that Martha Graham spoke of. It’s simply the nature of arting. Plus, at some point down the road, growth will happen and we’ll look back on our previous works and inevitably see areas that could have been done better or differently. There's no getting around that. "It's an inevitability, Mr. Anderson." So rather than letting that fear of failure stop us, just jump in and create art anyway! Darn the torpedoes and just dive in, head first, embracing the uncertainty in the spirit of exploration, creative joy, and learning. So rather than fixate on perfection and all the anticipated flaws in our work, fixate instead on discovery and curiosity. Because — yeah — we’re going to make mistakes. That’s simply the nature of creating art, making mistakes. It’s how we learn, it’s how we improve, it’s how we grow and stretch. In this light then, mistakes are really our best pathways to progress, aren’t they? So just make them and fix them as you go! That’s the beauty of art and mistakes — you’re the creator, right? You can un-create and re-make anything you concoct! You always have re-dos at your disposal! "The most valuable thing you can make is a mistake — you can't learn anything from being perfect," said Adam Osborne, and he's spot on. "And when you get over that fear of making a mistake, then it becomes fun," revealed Bob Ross. Right on the money! So never be afraid of making a mistake or of pulling up short because if you allow all that to take over, you won’t art at all, will you? “Fear kills more dreams than failure ever will,” said Suzy Kassem, and she’s absolutely right. So work through that discomfort to find that moxie inside of you and just go full bore — you owe it to yourself. And even more, you owe it to your art. Your art is depending on you to make it real, waiting patiently inside of you, eager. So go forth and create the awesome! Worry about everything else later.

Recommended reading:

The Perfectionist Paradox

Demonslaying Parts I-VI

Moving Forwards With Fear

Vision Conniptions: Managing Our Mind's Eye In Art

Fear of criticism is a real art-stopper, no doubt. I actually know some would-be artists who don’t art simply because of their fear of negative feedback, of public opinion. “There is nothing more vulnerable than creativity,” said Brené Brown. She goes onto also share, "Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity. To create is to make something that has never existed before. There is nothing more vulnerable than that." So laying ourselves bare is literally a prerequisite. And that makes arting a precious yet precarious proposition, doesn’t it? Really, every day all artists wrestle with this phenomenon in some way, especially when they debut new work or post in-progress images. Truly, the visceral reaction the public has to our work can truly kick us in the gut in a literal way. It can be devastating. It can be art-ending for some. “Creativity takes courage,” said Henri Matisse. Indeed. A lot of it. Brené further reveals, “There's no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don't. Unused creativity doesn't just disappear. It lives within us until it's expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear.” Don’t let this happen to you — be brave. It’s hard, and make no mistake, it never gets easier. The public is the public and there’s no taming that shrew. But you can still construct a creative life that’s joyful and fulfilling regardless, so focus on your fishbowl, on your bubble, and nevermind the rest. As Georgia O’Keeffe wisely said, “I have already settled it for myself so flattery and criticism go down the same drain and I am quite free.” That’s the creative headspace we need to dwell in, that detached centerpoint where our own opinion of our work is really the only thing that matters. If we love it, if we love creating it, if it brings us joy and satisfaction, who cares about the rest, right? It’s just noise. And never forget this: For every malcontent out there, there are many others who like your work so focus on them instead. Honestly, those dissing your work are probably not even your collectors anyway, are they? So why waste energy on paying attention to them when that energy is better spent on your actual collectors. So hold this quote from Brené Brown close to heart: “If you aren’t in the arena also getting your ass kicked, I’m not interested in your opinion.” Bingo! Create for yourself first. As Rick Rubin wisely advises, "The audience comes last." So reframe affirmation away from what people think about it and towards what satisfaction you derived from creating it and you’ll have an unstoppable surge of inspiration and motivation sweep over your efforts. You are more talented than you know and more capable than you think, so find your courage not only for your sake, but the sake of your art. Never let someone’s ugliness tarnish your shine—glow bright! And really, that’s the best rebuttal to any criticism isn’t it? Simply living your best creative life to the fullest, so toss those curls and art on!

Recommended reading:

The Critic in the Creative Space

Pickled Art

Arting In A Bubble: An Empowering Way To Create Art

Recommended listening:

The Power Of Vulnerability - Brené Brown

Why Your Critics Aren't The Ones Who Count - Brené Brown

Your Elusive Creative Genius - Elizabeth Gilbert

Success, Failure And The Drive To Keep Creating - Elizabeth Gilbert

On the other hand, for some it’s a very real fear of success and the insidious imposter syndrome. Was the success a fluke? Can you keep up that standard that made you famous in the first place? Or are you just a one-hit wonder? Anticipating disappointment is a powerful brew of trepidation and insecurity, yet even the most confident artists can wrestle with it from time to time. It’s a very human condition, indeed. But it’s also what keeps us hungry and stretching, doesn’t it? Spin it in that light and instead it becomes useful fuel, a mechanism of progress, exploration, and innovation. Honestly, it’s good to not be completely confident and comfortable in what we’re doing. It’s good to have a dose of uncertainty and doubt. It inspires us forwards as only it can, seeking exploration and the limitless edges of our potential. So rather than worry if you’re a one-hit wonder, if what you accomplished was only an accident — really, who cares? Does arting bring you joy? Does it fulfill essential parts of you? If so, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Again, just darn those torpedoes and forge ahead, full steam! Everything else really is useless noise. And wabi-sabi, baby! Truly then, when we create from this position of power, we’ll find a new kind of detachment that ushers in a new confidence, authority, authenticity, and freedom that engages us with our arting even more. Honestly, when we no longer care whether we “succeed” or “fail,” whatever that means, and just do art, new and better gears are engaged that actually improve our entire experience and sometimes even our outcomes. "Don't think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it's good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art," said Andy Warhol. Yes...just make your art! That's always the right answer.

Recommend reading:

Redefining Success: Some Thoughts On True Accomplishment

If you’re stuck, rather than take on some grandiose project with a lot of stops and starts, instead make arting a creative routine, even if just for 30 minutes a day in small bites. By creating a deliberate habit, by purposely setting aside time for it, that forces you to engage with your art to get those gears gearing. And that’s the important bit because the truth is inspiration has to find you working! If you simply wait for inspiration to strike, you’ll probably be waiting a long time. Because that’s not really how it works. See, the big secret with inspiration is that working generates inspiration, not the other way around so much. Sure, that Muse can strike us out of nowhere, but the thing is, it’s the work itself, the act of arting, that causes a lot more unlimited inspirations to well up inside of us. One idea feeds on the next and if we’re really feeding that mechanism, it can spin out of control into an inspirational clusterbomb of new ideas that fill up our sketchbooks as we try to capture them all. So if you’re feeling uninspired — do art. If you’re feeling stuck in your creativity — do art. Creating your art is always — always — the correct answer to the problem.

Feeling a little burned out? A bit uninspired? Tired of what you’re doing? Well, try something new! Feed your curiosity! Absolutely, trying a new medium or process, exploring a new body type or breed, delving into novel new compositions and concepts, or playing around with any number of experimental approaches can reignite that inspiration patiently waiting inside of you. In that spirit then, think about taking classes and workshops, or go on an artist retreat or art-based trip. There are few things that are more rejuvenating for art than exploring new creative territory! It’s often just the ticket to firing up that artistic bonfire, full ablaze! And the new thing doesn't have to be obvious either...anything creative will do! So, for instance, if making enameled jewelry has piqued your interest lately — do it! The point is to just get those creative gears going in any direction! And remember, any form of creativity counts! Beading, photography, wheel clay throwing, journaling, sewing, flatwork, writing, bookmaking, cosplay, gardening, cooking, creative writing, music, jewelry making, candle making, soap making, scrapbooking, stained-glass — all of it counts. And don't worry about it! Everything else will come later, but in this moment, "follow your bliss" as Joseph Campbell would say.

Establish new goals with your art insofar as let your art create and develop new connections, experiences, achievements and such rather than always focusing on just getting better at the craft. When we make art also about what art can do for us and for others, it becomes bigger and more engaging, doesn’t it? In that light then, think about writing informative articles or blog posts to help others along in their artistic explorations. Consider hosting a class or workshop or demo. Create educational videos or podcasts. Make your art about more than simply the process of arting, make it about the experience of living an artistic life, too, in the spirit of helping others with their creative experiences. And honestly, there are few things that’ll expose a gap in your knowledge base than having to teach or write about it! What a tremendous opportunity to delve into continued learning which can certainly reenergize your inspiration, huh? Likewise, think about answering a question with your art, like “what if…?” or “Why would…?” or “Maybe if that…?” When we reframe our motivations away from “it has to be perfect” and more towards an exploratory answer to a pointed question, when we design our work based on curiosity rather than carping, our paradigm shifts into something a bit less draconian and pressurized which can really help quell intimidation. Reorienting our efforts towards being a learner also asks us to be more forgiving of ourselves and our efforts and therein lies the license to stretch more in any direction, accelerating this effect.

Indulge in a no-pressure, all-fun fresh creative outlet, even one wildly different than our demanding and unforgiving art form. For instance, I regularly visit a paint-and-sip place for two low-key hours of super fun, no pressure creative play. With no real expectations other than enjoyably smearing pigment on a canvas, this sort of thing is wonderful escapism, like an engaging artistic mini-vacation that allows me to surprise myself once and a while. Likewise, I approach my NaReViMo horses much the same way. They’re pure creative escapism with very little pressure for perfectionism placed on myself, resulting in a lighter, more low-key experience that’s nice to indulge every August. They're really kinda like customized doodling, that level of casual, exploratory fun in 3D. And here's the thing: Doodling has been proven to be highly beneficial in many ways, including revving up the creative drive and sustaining it. Because not everything you create has to be a masterpiece! Quit putting that kind of pressure on your creativity! Sometimes it just wants to mess around rather than run an F1 race every time out. Give your creativity room to breathe, to play, and relax. Let it futz around and find out. Because, absolutely, doodling is still art, art that's full of a unique energy and novelty that makes it so immediate, revealing, exploratory. And doodling can do a lot to inspire new concepts and directions — so doodle to jumpstart new compositions! Why? Because you’ll find that once that energy of arting takes over, even in the simplest terms, it regenerates itself and primes the pump, melting away many intimidations or hesitations you may be suffering. Arting simply inspires more arting like a perpetual motion machine and if those gears are humming along again with no-pressure creativity, we remember what that feels like, don’t we? We experience those wonderful feelings again of simply playing around with our creativity, and what sort of fear stands a chance against that? And when we learn to surprise ourselves again, our confidence grows, our moxie increases, and our boldness bursts forth to bash right through any intimidations that were holding us back. Even better, this inspires our curiosity which then ignites our imaginations, and new inspirations aren't far behind in that triggered mechanism!

When you start to feel intimidated or fearful in your arting, also just remember that nothing is precious. In other words, everything is often changeable in your artwork and anything about your process and therefore your outcome can be altered. You don’t have to be married to any decision most of the time. You can indeed change your mind and you can alter any aspect of your piece in most cases. “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts,” said Winston Churchill. Always leave yourself open to changing your mind — it’s okay.

On that note, if you feel weighted down by negativity stopping your creativity, understand the negative bias hardwired in our brains. It may be persistent, yes, but it doesn’t tell you the truth. What is this? It’s the feedback system that forces us to fixate on those negative experiences that may have impacted our survival in our distant past. But while it may have served us well previously in evolution, today when it comes to art—wow—is it a burden. How so? Well, it compels us to focus on the few nasty comments that invariably pop up to the exclusion of all all else, even amidst all the kudos and congratulations we earn. Then it replays those negative comments in our heads on repeating loop, louder than the positivity. So even if our public response is 99% praise, that 1% will stick with us stronger, creating a seriously skewed sense of achievement. In short, the negative bias gives us a mistaken idea of where we stand, and gosh, that can be crippling! As such, it’s often just a better idea to ignore comments all together, if possible, or find a way to process that 1% out of your life with coping mechanisms. Being so, pruning haters or other problematic people from your social media with blocking or filters is a smart move, too. Point being, the amplification of negative feedback in your head is simply an automated system not aligned with creativity. It’s meant for bare bones survival, not for something like subjective, sensitive, and mercurial arting. Keep it in perspective then so focus on all the kudos instead, all the positivity coming your way. It’s not only more worthy of your attention, but it’s healthier for you and your art as well. And never forget, critics don't hold some secret knowledge! They aren't exclusively more "in the know." They simply have their opinion which is as disposable in the grand scheme of things as yesterday's garbage. They don't know your Truth and they have their own knowledge gaps, blindspots, and biases, and so they aren't infallible. So never get lulled into the notion that they know The Right Way. See here's the thing: In art, there are many Right Ways, including yours, which is actually more valid and legitimate than anyone else's....because you're the artist. Your Vision simply overrides that of everyone else when it comes to the nature of your own work. This is your art, your rules, so don't hand anyone power who has no business in that equation. Because only you know the Truth of your experience and your Vision so stay true to it and yourself, and you're well on your way to re-finding your creative joy!

We all know we’re our own worst critic, right? No one is more brutal than we are on ourselves most times. So always be very careful with the pressures you put on yourself because if you aren’t, you can soon find yourself trembling in a proverbial corner, all trepidation and little motivation. Ease up on yourself, you're doing better than you think. To that end, never forget that every artist has bad days and good days, bad weeks and good weeks, bad months and good months. Things can ebb and flow so give yourself room for grace. See, when you loosen up and allow yourself to engage your art in a more low-key, less pressured way, too, the fun will start to peek out — grab it and go with it. Creating art should first be fun, not created in a pressure pot! So if you start to feel intimidated by your own expectations, find the fun parts of your process and focus on those more and reward yourself for every little triumph. And don't forget, there's no such thing as "perfection," that's an illusion. All there truly is is your best effort but only you have the autonomy to decide how far that goes, so make sure you exercise that judgment call in a healthy and compassionate manner with yourself.

Embrace the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, the acceptance of imperfection and impermanence. Here we find more emphasis on experiencing the process of making our art, of living in the creative moment, rather than being so focused on the perfect outcome. We also give ourselves room to be fallible human beings once more, accepting the imperfections in our work as simply part of the magic of making art. Now yes, we work in equine realism where things have to be as technically correct as possible, but there's still room for grace for ourselves, isn't there? No one is creating perfect equines! Only Nature can do that. So go ahead and stretch for that brass ring, but don't fall off your proverbial carousel horse doing so. Hold on tight to those things about arting that bring your joy and enjoy the process of making your art just as much as your successful outcomes. The journey is just as important as the destination!

Recommended reading:

Wabi-Sabi and Realism: Strange Bedfellows

On that note, our art form entails a lot of long hours of hard work and that can be immensely daunting. So learn to embrace the process and revel in the doing, find peace in the methods and techniques. Even the tedium of sanding or ticking can be turned into a meditation rather than a chore. Also remember that creating art is a never-ending learning process and though it may not feel like it, you’re growing artistically right now. Every minute you're arting isn't just an opportunity to grow — you're automatically growing. Just study your art from years past to see your growth and improvement to see how that's happening, steady and sure, and find satisfaction in that. Really, things aren’t so dire when you can see that you are actually making some headway. You see, enlightenment and improvement don't just happen in big, flashy moments of epiphany, but also in lots of little imperceptible moments that pass right under your nose. So as you work, find satisfaction in the knowing that — yes — you are improving even though you may not see it today.

And lastly, when intimidation and fear seem to pummel you into the ground despite it all, always “find your way home” as Elizabeth Gilbert would put it. Really, if you love arting so much, dip into that innate love as a reservoir of compulsion. Like when you start to feel down about your creativity, pinpoint what motivates you with it in your guts and emphasize those aspects to the nth degree. Is it because you love your creations? Do you find the act of creativity calming? Do you do it for amusement and delight? Are you driven by an artistic compulsion? Are you interested in discovery and innovation? Does creativity fulfill you in a way no other outlet can? All of the above? Something more? Whatever it is, grab it by the tail and don’t let go! That fire of creativity within you needs stoking from time to time and often rediscovering our core drives can re-fuel our efforts in ways no other approach can. When we rekindle those core motivations then, there’s really no form or amount of artistic intimidation that can stand up to that essential power within us!

Conclusion

See, there are lots of strategies to bump us out of our doldrums or equip us to conquer our fears! We can conquer intimidation in a positive, empowering way. But the point to remember is this: It's all pro-active. It won’t just come to you. You have to put in the effort to knock yourself loose, to jostle yourself from being jammed up in your creativity. So put your shoulder into it! Really kick that proverbial door down! Being paralyzed by fear isn’t a fun place to be, especially for an artist otherwise eager to get to work. It can be a frightening, confusing, and frustrating place. But it’s not a place we need to be stuck in! We can find our way out with some of these targeted strategies like a map to a big, complicated maze.

Because being intimidated in our creativity can be a complicated thing because being human is a complicated thing. Emotions, psychology, skills, pressures, physical limits, expectations, standards, public opinion, and all the rest congeal into a big weighty wad that can just sit on our shoulders and crush us into an inertial stupor. Honestly, something can seem so dreadful, we’re simply intimidated into inaction. But just remember to babystep, break everything down into chewable bites and chew, one bite at a time. When you’re wrestling with intimidation, the name of the game is creating a more friendly, creatively accessible process that makes things more doable, finish-able, and less-scary. Like if starting that custom just seems so unreachable, simply grab some sandpaper and sand some seams. Or if beginning that medallion feels beyond your abilities, just start warming up some clay and smooshing it around. Keep things super simple and achievable in tiny steps, and then you got this! Or, hey, maybe the perfection of that pristine OF finish or smooth untouched clay prevents you from "messing it up." Sometimes simply getting started can be the intimidating step! If that's the case...do something small to "mess it up," like take some sandpaper to that OF or squish that clay's surface. Deliberately make a mess of it. It can't be denied that arting is messy business and messier still is being human. So things are already a mess! Out of all that chaos and mayhem and exploration then can come something wonderful — that's the very nature of art in a nutshell.

Because is creative intimidation really such a bad thing? Think about it...look at all the good that can come out of it. Really, smoosh it all together and it can spur our progress and push us more, can't it? Like if we can morph daunting intimidations into pro-active challenges, we've just made ourselves one heckuva mechanism for progress! But perhaps best of all, intimidation asks us to always remember what best motivates us at our core; it reminds us of who we are as artists which is forever a great reflection to keep us centered and plowing forwards. The truth is then, when we always remember to “come home,” when we get really good at that, there’s absolutely no way intimidation can take up residence in that creative headspace and, as a result, we'll remain joyful and engaged despite anything scary that pops up. With that new view then, what better way to stay inspired than that? Something seemingly insurmountable can actually really just be an invitation, can't it? So get into your studio and morph intimidation into motivation! Transform it into something that fuels you rather than frightens you. It can be done, and all successful artists have found a way to do this with each new piece they undertake. The truth is, intimidation is simply as much a part as creativity as technique — it's normal and natural, even if you've been at this for decades. Undeniably, you'll always feel daunted, unsure, and self-doubting on some level with every new piece you start so learn to make it work for you. You owe it to yourself and mostly, you owe it to your art. There are pieces orbiting in your inspiration, desperate to come out, aren't there? They're begging you to find your moxie so they can manifest into this world, right? Well, here's the thing: What’s been brewing inside of you is some of your best work yet so take a big breath, buckle up, and let it all out! Yes, you can do it! And the irony is this: It's actually through the pathway of intimidation that we do this because every piece you ever create will be harrowing in some way if you're doing it right. Really, if you aren't periodically creating on the edge of your potential, where you literally feel like you're going to faceplant any moment, you just aren't stretching far enough. As such, it's through embracing our creative intimidations that we become those learner explorers again, the new view that fires up a fresh kind of fascination that compels tangible progress and revved up inspirations! Then how in the world can our self-doubt ever flourish in that blazing creative landscape?

“Intimidation is a prerequisite to growth as an artist.”

— Cicely Tyson

Heads Up!: Artistic Guidelines for Sculpting the Equine Head

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Thu, 21 Aug 2025 18:33:00 +0000

Introduction

Of all the aspects of the horse that could give a sculptor the most fits, it would probably be the head. My gosh—what a complicated structure! So many features, angles, alignments, shapes, landmarks, textures, and details to factor in, and then we have conformation and breed type complicating matters even more. And if that wasn't enough, horses have individual faces just like we do, and so each of our sculpted heads should be unique. And it's all crammed into a relative small, fiddly area. Is it any wonder then why so many artists pull their hair out as they sculpt one?

Now I wrote a massive, 20-part in-depth series on the equine head in 2017 from a structural and functional point of view, "Heads Above The Rest." Parts 14, 15, 16, 17, and 18 are of particular interest as related to this post, being more geared more for artistic interests. Yet there are some additional artistic ideas we can learn and tricks we can apply that will make all this technical information a bit easier to translate into clay. So let's talk about a more artistic perspective now rather than such a clinical one. In this, we'll rely more on structural concepts rather than anatomical points to make these ideas more widely accessible across skill levels. So let's just dive in head first, shall we?

Brief Evolutionary Background of the Equine Skull for Perspective

The equine skull is large but nonetheless defined by efficiency—there's absolutely nothing about it that adds ornamentation or extra weight. This is due to the horse's evolutionary lifestyle: They eat abrasive grasses and run away fast in a straight line over long distances to escape predators. This is a grass eating, running machine. But the nutrients in grass are locked up in an abrasive silica shell (it's what keeps a blade of dead grass upright) that can only be released by being ground up into a mash to be processed by gut bacteria (in the cecum in the equine) into digestible nutrients the horse's body can absorb. And all that grinding of an abrasive substance necessitates a battery of large, constantly-growing long teeth. Grazing also requires a long diastema that projects the heads further forwards to nip off grasses while still keeping the eye high on the head to scan the horizon for predators. Put that all together then and we have the big, long head of the horse. However, the horse also has to be an efficient energy user to sustain a fast pace for a long time to survive predation, so a big head is actually a liability, right? So what's the solution? Well, no horns, antlers, or racks, and large sinus cavities to lighten the load, that's what. So the horse now has the benefit of a large, powerful jaw with big grinders and large sinus cavities for air intake but without the liability of a really heavy head that would slow him down. What's more, the head is predominately held up passively by the tension of the fan-shaped nuchal ligament, a powerful yellow ligament that lies deep inside the neck like a giant, robust rubber band. This means that horses expend minimal effort even holding their heads up, increasing efficiency even more. The horse is truly a marvel of evolutionary engineering!

So what's the point? Well, evolutionary pressures shaped the horse's head a very specific way so it really doesn't have much plasticity without running into trouble fast. This is exactly why we don't see the extreme cranial variations as we see in dogs, for example. It also means that everything is there for a reason—nothing is superfluous. It's of a Spartan design that works purposely and beautifully. And this has implications for our sculpture, doesn't it? Indeed, when we veer too far into stylization, especially breedy stylization, we're aren't only compromising realism, we're also compromising the depiction of the animal's well-being. The head is the only means to intake air, water, food, sight, hearing, scent, and make vocalizations plus there needs to be room for all the roots of those big teeth. Aren't we obligated then to recreate it suitable for those biological needs first and "beauty" second? It's something important to consider.

Cranial Relationships and Alignments

Now let's look for structural relationships that can guide our hands with greater clarity. In this, we need a framework to build our head, something consistent enough to act as a template for the necessary comparisons but also allows for adaptability for all the variations out there. Even so, the equine skull does have some specific relationships that are universal despite all the variations based on breed, species, gender, age, and individuality. Now we've explored some in A Head Of The Pack: Basic Guidelines For Sculpting The Equine Head, and Structural Relationships: More on Equine Topography and Successful Sniffers: Tips For Sculpting Equine Nostrils, We're All Ears: Sculpting The Equine Ear, and Pleasin' Peepers: Sculpting The Equine Eye, some in The Three Ps, and some in that head series, specifically Part 14. Just please remember that while some associations are consistent anatomical alignments, others are only baselines, springboards for making the necessary adjustments as needed to fit the diversity we find in life. But we have to start somewhere, don't we?

To that end, these are the universal alignments that don't really change with variation or conformation per se, being the most fixed:

The last molar sits just in front of the eye, about near the middle of the teardrop bone, while the first premolar sits about midway under the Buccinators.
The back of the jaw should flow up to the back to its “button” underneath the zygomatics.
The ear canal is aligned with the zygomatic arches and the orbit.
From the front, we can form a "T" between the front canthi and the median line of the head. The same can be said for the tips of the teardrop bones, the nostrils (when symmetrically held), and the corners of the mouth (when symmetrically held). This helps us to maintain symmetry between the two sides of the face.
The orientation of the eye has two general planes. The first angles inwards at the bottom and outwards at the top. The second angles slightly inwards at the front canthus.
The top branch of the “Y” vein flows from the front canthus of the eye to the front of the teardrop bone while the second branch flows towards the nostrils.
When seen from the front, the skull forms an elongated and inverted isosceles trapezoid due to the narrower mandible and broad brows.
The ears are set on the crown of the head, on the sides, seated into their cranial "cup" right behind the line of the jaw (rami) and behind the zygomatic arches on either side of the crown, in front of the occipital crest with the bulb and aligning with the EENA. This is perhaps the one of the most fixed anatomical features of the head, most consistent across the board.
From beneath, the jaw bars form an elongated triangle, widest at the rami to meet each other at the chin. They’re rounded, not sharply rimmed, and have an underline that represents the individual characteristics of the particular horse.

Now these alignments can serve as a starting point to develop your necessary variations because they have more individual variability:

From the front, the "V" at the bottom of the ear tends to sit on a plane parallel to the median to pass in front of the eyebrow flesh near the front canthi, depending on breed or individual variation. In other words, some breeds or individuals have wider or more narrow crowns which changes how close or far apart the ears are set.
The alignment of the ear–eye–nostril (EENA) often forms a straight line. Notice that the teardrop bone and the mouth generally parallel the EENA, too. However, the EENA can vary between individuals, breeds, or species because...
The internal axis of the skull is what tends to dictate head shape. Specifically, the equine head can be categorized into three basic types: (1) The arched or convex head, (2) the concave head, and (3) the straight head, with plenty of variation in between. What this means is that the axis of the head can be variable dependent on the individual, family, or breed, with a central axis being bent down, bent upwards, or straight, respectively speaking, beginning generally around the tip of the masseteric ridge. For example, many Iberian, Kladrubers, Murgese, Lippizzans, or Draft breeds can have a convex head in which the entire nasal portion of the skull drops downwards from the EENA, producing a distinctive “ram–head” appearance. In contrast, Arabians and some pony breeds may have a dished head in which the nasal portion is lifted slightly upwards from the EENA (though sometimes Arabians have a straight EENA but with a dished nasal bone and jibbah). In contrast, Morgans, Saddlebreds, stock breeds, and Thoroughbreds tend to have straight heads that more closely follow the straight line of the EENA. Now granted, there's a lot of diversity in all this, so regard those axis alignments as guides, not gospel. But it does mean that the shape of the head doesn't have to be created by the shape of the nasal bone alone, but also created deep inside the skull with its internal axis. This is why some sculptures that merely change the nasal bone without attending to the head axis may look odd. For example, they can appear too “dolphin-like” if a dish was created by gouging down the nasal bone with the added dome of the forehead. Sometimes we also see the jaw bars suffering reduction as well, making the head appear fluted, “seahorse-like,” or pinched in the middle (and when the nostrils are flared, we have an odd trumpet–like shaped head). On the other hand, a head can be made to be too deep if made to be more convex by simply adding a curve to the existing nasal bone. So remember to attend to the head axis first the deciphering references or sculpting.
The anterior and posterior canthi of the eye are angled at an approximate 42˚– 44˚ angle to the EENA. However, different individuals or breeds may vary.
The angle of the lower angle with the "button" of the zygomatic somewhat echoes this 42˚– 44˚ angle.
Seen from the top of the head, looking down on it, the eyes are angled about 33˚ to the median line of the head. However, some breeds or individuals have more or less of an angle.
When seen from the front (nose on), the top rim of the eye often protrudes a snidge farther out whereas the bottom rim of the eye often dips a snidge farther in, causing the plane of the eye to angle inwards at the bottom. However, some eyes can be more up-and-down due to natural variation, so look for that in your references and field study.
When seen from the front, the brows are usually the widest portion of the cranium, with the bulge of the eyes themselves usually the widest part of the head itself. However, in horses with narrower heads, their brows can be about as wide as the ear bulbs. Also the eyes of senior citizens can be more sunken due to reduction of the fat pad behind the orb. On the other hand, on some muscular stock breeds such as the Quarter Horse, the robust jaw muscles over the ramus may be the widest part of the head.
The chin usually ends somewhat near the back of the nostrils, or to varying degrees in front of it if they're droopy.
When seen from the front, the “V” at the top of the nostril, where the rims meet, is oriented more towards the median than the lower aspect of the back rim, which protrudes more outward. This puts the nostril on an inward slant towards the top, predominantly along the back rim. In contrast, the comma cartilages tend to orient more upright, often with an elegant inward curve in the middle. However, some individuals can have more uprightly angled nostrils or nostril movement can distort this angle, so look for it in life study and your references.
The zygomatics can exhibit some variety in how prominent and "cut" they are, so pay attention to all their diversity.
The bulbs of the ears and the brows of the eyes are about as broad as the wings of the Atlas bone though there is some variation with how wide or narrow the top of the neck is, so look for that in your references and life study.

Serve it all up, and these handy guides can help us in the shaping of our equine heads with a lot more clarity. For example, when we understand that the ear, eye, and nostril are important landmarks that are skeletally oriented, that gives us better use of the EENA template, doesn't it? Another thing to remember is that the head is mostly subcutaneous bone on the dorsal and ventral aspect, and mostly subcutaneous or partially subcutaneous fleshy muscle along the sides. For this reason, we need to sculpt the bony parts convincingly as bone and the fleshy bits as flesh; otherwise our head won’t be as believable as it could be. For instance, the hourglass–shaped nasal bone should appear hard while the cheek’s Buccinators should appear fleshy. In contrast, the ears, lower nasal bone, and comma cartilages are made of cartilage and should appear appropriately firm but bendy. For example, the ear flute itself is relatively thin, making the ear malleable and able to be bent and distorted easily.

As for relative head width, that's a function of individual, breed, and even gender and age variation. For instance, Arabians tend to be quite broad across the brows whereas Iberians can be quite narrow. Likewise, foals can appear broad across the brows thanks largely to the contrast with their undeveloped, narrow lower faces. Likewise, stallion heads can appear broader due to their cranial muscular development whereas mares can seem more slender. Paying attention to head width is important since it plays such a big part in the believability of our sculptures.

On top of everything, the equine profile can exhibit a spectrum of undulating characteristics distinctive to each horse. Indeed, each of our profiles are different and so are those of horses. So we need to pay special attention to the horse’s profile to capture breed type and individuality. Again, all this presses the issue of studying heads from multiple angles and using references from multiple views. Honestly, the more angles and dimensions familiar to us, the better we are at translating it all into our clay. Plus, the more references we work from, of different angles, the better success we have at trouble-shooting problems. On that note then, always use good reference photos and learn to see the anatomical structures underneath the skin. Also make ready use of protractors, rulers, and proportional calipers—they’re your best friends when sculpting the head. Above all, field study field study field study! Get out there and observe the real deal and snap your own photos.

Basic Cranial Landmarks

Much of the equine skull is subcutaneous bone or nearly so, and so the head owes most of its shape and size to the skull itself, providing plenty of landmarks to guide us. In other words, the skull isn't defined by fleshiness so much like a human face, but more by bone. This is probably because the equine head has been "telescoped" forwards to project the incisors forwards and to make room for the battery of big teeth needed for nipping and grinding grasses, "stretching" his face forwards below his eyes. Most of this space then didn't "fill up" with lots of flesh or muscle, but kept a more Spartan structure of fascia, hide, and bone with thin, strappy muscles. The only really fleshy muscles are on his cheek and jowl, and of course the fleshiness of this muzzle and around the orbit. But this is great news since it provides us with lots of cranial landmarks to map out his skull accurately. Heck, even the muscles are often so obvious, some can serve as landmarks as well. So for the skull itself, the most obvious landmarks are:

The masseteric ridge (teardrop bone)
The zygomatic arches
The Salt Cellar
The nasal bone (and its median groove)
The forehead (sometimes the temporal line, or the external frontal crest, can be felt, even seen on the forehead)
The poll
The jaw bars
The caudal rim of the jaw (rami)
The “button” underneath the zygomatics
At a point just in front of the jowls in the hollow between the jaw bars, we can feel the underside of the Basihyoid bone of the Hyoid Apparatus (the swallowing mechanism)

The cranial cartilages are also palpable:

The comma cartilages and its distal "button" at the end (sometimes we can even see it as a small bulge)
The ear flute
The ear bulb

Use all these landmarks as a connect-the-dots using the EENA as a guide, and you'll have a pretty good handle on the size, shape, axis, and structure of your sculpted head. Now here's the thing: The set of the eyes, the actual shape and length of the skull, the angle of the muzzle to the axis of the head, and the shape of the zygomatics can vary a bit from animal to animal based on individuality, breed, or species. However, remember that the set of the ears is an anatomical one so we can use that as a starting point to block out the rest of the head. So in sequence, think about blocking out the head thusly (you don't have to do the final sculpting of them yet, just get them in place:

Length of head
Axis of the head
Depth of head at the jowl and bars
Set of the ears based on the EENA and the back of the jaw
Set of the eyes based on the EENA and the ear (which we'll discuss in a bit)
Location of the nostril based on the EENA and the axis
Teardrop bone, often somewhat parallel to the EENA
Breadth of jowl
Zygomatic arches and temporal line
Angle of the mouth, often somewhat parallel to the EENA

Now maybe you have other methods that work for you better, but even so, think about checking your heads based on this sequence since it tends to map it out quickly and reliably. It's also a highly adaptable method for any kind of variation you find in life.

As for the teeth and gums, the front twelve incisors are easy to see if we lift the lips. The tushes are also easily seen from the side if inspecting a stallion or gelding (though sometimes a mare will have some or a full set). If we’re quick (and the horse is accommodating), we can even study the tooth surfaces of the incisors, too. The molars and possible Wolf’s Teeth (if present) are more difficult to see, so if we can observe a dental exam that uses a mouth speculum, it’s educational. Being so, we might even be able to catch a glimpse of the palantal drape, tongue, and the ridged hard palate.

The external aspects of the nostrils are easily palpated and observed. The front and back rims of the nostrils are evident as is the upper fold of the posterior rim over the anterior cartilage at the top "V" where the two rims meet. The tail of the comma cartilage can be palpated and sometimes seen as a subtle bump. The false nostril is abundantly clear when the horse flares their nostrils or snorts, too. The features on the muzzle can also be easily seen and felt from the lips to the chin to the whiskers (or just the whisker bumps if the whiskers have been shaved). The lips are easily seen and felt, and the corner of the mouth makes an important landmark. Likewise, the eye area can be gently felt from the eyelashes to the eyelids to the whisker bumps. The outer aspects of the ear flute, bulb, and its details are easily seen and palpated as well, even the medial and lateral crus of the medial helix.

Facial musculature can either appear as generalized, in moderate detail, or in "dry," crisp detail, depending on the breed, individual, management, climate, level of exertion, or circumstance. "Dryness" can also be expressed in different locations of the head with some areas in dry detail and others more generalized—it all depends on the individual and circumstances. Yet because the skull is mostly palatable under the skin, nearly every fleshy facial feature is a landmark, depending on how crisply it’s expressed. Yet six fleshy features are stand-outs as useful, relatively consistent orienting landmarks:

Quadratus labii inferioris
Levator labii sup. alæque nasi
Caninus s. pyramidalis nasi
Zygomaticus major
Buccinator
Masseter

All of these bony and fleshy landmarks help to guide our proportions, planing, and placements so we get things right. Really, the equine head is very precisely constructed so it's important to orient things properly. So continually recheck as you sculpt since things can go sideways rather quickly if you aren't paying close attention, especially if you become taken up in the magic of sculpting and lose sight of the big picture. In particular, sculpting expression tends to cause us to lose sight of the head's technicalities so keep those calipers and references close at hand and regularly recheck the EENA as you sculpt.

Basic Cranial Proportions

Because the equine skull has some common relationships, it also has another proportional set of baselines we can use to springboard into more adjustments as needed. Again, these are merely starting points to start creating our variations as needed for breeds, species, ages, individuals, and even genders. Even families within breeds can have their own cranial tendencies, so pay attention to that as well. So a few major proportional cranial relationships are:

The length of the head in front of the eyes is elongated—the horse’s head is stretched forwards in front of the eye. Because of this, the typical equine head is usually divided into thirds: (1) From the base of the ear “V” to the front canthus of the eye then (2) from that point to mid-head then (3) from that point to the end of the muzzle. However, different breeds and individuals can vary. This means you have a quick way to properly place the eye between the ear and the EENA. Just make sure you don't place your eye on top of the tooth roots, i.e. too low.
The depth of the skull from forehead to the bottom of the ramus is about 1/2 the length of the head, generally speaking. Some individuals or breeds may be more or less, and old horses are often less, especially through the bars, since their teeth have reached their terminal limit.
Ear length is about that one-third measurement, with variation of gender, breed, age, and individuality.
Muzzle depth is about that one-third measurement, with variation for breed, age, and individuality.
Jowl breadth is about that one-third measurement, with variation for breed, gender, age, and individuality.

Basic Cranial Variations

Variations are the norm rather than the exception! Individuality, breed type, family tendencies, species distinctiveness, gender characteristics, and age growth stages all factor into all this diversity. Even nutrition can affect cranial development, and the horse's condition can affect how the head looks as well. For instance, foals have infant cranial structure, being less developed and "softer" in definition. In short, they aren't simply shrunk down adult heads. On the other hand, the heads of old horses can be more slender through the bars since their teeth have reached their terminal limit, narrowing the head a snidge. Plus their heads can appear more gaunt and bony from their diminishing nutrition because of their terminal teeth.

Basic Cranial Visualizations

So from an artistic point of view, we can block out the equine skull into some artistic structural ideas or shapes to help us along. Indeed, breaking down the horse’s head into simple shapes can help us quite a bit. So with that in mind, here are some helpful associations:

The muscles of the mouth and cheek form a nested "M" and "W." However, the buccinators can be more like a solid wad of flesh or a slightly different configuration, too, depending on the individual's variation.
The nostril forms a “6” on the right side and a backwards “6” on the left side.
The flute of the nostril forms a kind of "V" from the back of the posterior rim.
The front rim of the alar cartilage of the nostril forms a “C” when relaxed and more of an “L” on its side when dilated.
The top aspect of the zygomatic arches is like a "U" oriented towards the poll while the lower aspect is like a "Y" oriented towards the ears.
From the top, the nasal bone should be centered on the median line, and often has a subtle hourglass shape with rounded sides. The narrow "pinch" in the hourglass shape often occurs at the ends of the teardrop bones.
The upper lip can be thought of as a little box that twitches, pooks, tweaks, stretches, and wiggles, being actively mobile.
From the side, think of the skull in three parts: The "box" for the ears, the circle for the upper head, and the "shoebox" for the lower face.
From the front, we can think of the basic shape of the head is like a kite with a tail—a diamond for the forehead and the tail for the nasal bone.

Basic Ear Structures

I'm an ear geek so I pay very close attention to them when sculpting since they're just so darned complicated (and fun) to sculpt with their subtle curves and shapes. But not only is their structure complex, ear shapes are quite individualistic, too. No two pairs of ears are alike! What's more, ear size and shape can be a function of breed, gender, species, and age. For example, smaller, curvy ears are typical of an Arabian as is the pronounced curl of the Marwari. On the other hand, larger, longer ears are typical of a mare, and proportionally larger ears are common with foals. What’s more, some breeds actually require the ears to be a certain length such as the Shetland with ears that shouldn’t exceed 5” long (13cm). Also, the ears may be placed closer together on the crown on some breeds, too, such as the ASB, Kathiawari, Marwari and Akhal–Teke. This is usually caused by the narrower structure of the crown of such breeds as compared to the Arabian, Morgan, or Quarter Horse who tend to have wider crowns. So pay special attention to the varying attributes of the ear since all these factors play a part.

As for the ear itself, it's a delicately fluted “scoop" (pinna, plural: pinnae) with an inner (medial) rim that's more rounded and more deeply curvaceous with an outside (lateral) rim that's flatter and less curved. Of special note is the “V” where the two rims meet at the bottom since it has some interesting features. In particular, the bottom of the curvaceous medial rim, near the "V," has a curious fold created by the lateral and medial crus of the helix, which changes as the ear rotates, a detail often missed by artists. Instead, many artists simply make this area a straight rim by mistake, for instance. The ears have wrinkles, too, which are typically located where the pinnae meets the skull when rotation folds the skin. For example, when pricked forwards, wrinkles can be found between the pinnae and the head along the median line of the bulb whereas if they’re laid back, wrinkles can be found along the back of the bulb. The pinnae also often have visible veins, notably along the back of the flutes and around the ear bulbs, which really lend a sense of thin skin and fine hair for sculptures depicting hot bloods or even athletic effort. Now if the ears are clipped, note the soft, delicate ridges inside the ears. On the other hand, fuzzy, unclipped ears can be a wonderful touch for feral horses or those shown in a natural state. (Note: Some regulations now dictate against shaving out the ears.) Note that the ear hair is oriented inwards or forwards and not so much outwards, towards the rims. Also minor faults such as lop ears can add a bit of character to a piece meant to be eccentric. Likewise, ears with nicks, cuts, missing tips, etc. can imply an interesting backstory which can be effective for sculptures of feral horses, ranch horses, wild horses, or roughstock. In fact, certain breeds have specifically notched ears for identification such as the Icelandic Horse. Ear tags might also be a curious option, accurate for certain populations tagged for research. And because ears are a consummate tool for adding life to a sculpture, their expressive qualities go far to impart genuine equine character and narrative. For example, ears can be pricked and drawn together more when the horse is tense or intently focused on something, or drooping in a floppy “V" when the animal is sleepy, relaxed, or dozing off. They can be floppy and wobbly in response to motion, too, such as we see on some gaited horses (especially gaited mules), or when horses shake.

Other Thoughts on the Equine Head

Above all, remember the evolutionary biology of the equine head. It's a study of economy—every bit is there in a specific way for a critical biological reason. Being so, it has very little fudge–factor for our imposed aesthetics or misinterpretations. With so little room for error then, cranial structure cannot be fudged—we need to be clear about its construction to get it right. That's because so much about the equine head is literal with so much being subcutaneous flesh and bone. So if we make a mistake somewhere, that will likely develop into a systemic problem that will skew everything else. So check your placements against the EENA and the subsequent alignments often as you work.

Yet, at the same time, it's easy to get confused since so much is interlaced together, alternately becoming deep and superficial layers. It's also made up of all the fleshy components of the body: Bone, cartilage, fat, tissue, muscle, tendon, ligament, fascia, and hide, all of which are specialized for the head itself, giving us an array of structures and textures we have to mimic properly in a relative tight space. Plus, facial muscles come in multiple forms. For example, some are flat or strap–like like zygomaticus major while others have fleshy muscle bellies like the buccinators while still others are in-between like the masseter. And on a thin-skinned, “dry” face, much of the fleshy delineation is often readily seen, making precision even more important. So when recreating fascial musculature in clay, pay attention to these qualities when considering the shape and thickness of particular bits to avoid creating a head that’s too bulky, puffy, bulbous, or meaty, especially in the mid-face between the eye and nostril. What's more, pay close attention to detail and fleshy texture since the tiny aspects of the hide and skin on the face is so varied and often squishy and velvety. The ears, muzzle, and nostril exhibit a high degree of motility and sensitivity, too, and the brows and lower lid are fleshy and expressive, especially so with the upper lid and brow. And thusly, we also have to consider expression which is a whole 'nuther subject in itself!

All this conspires then to make sculpting the equine head especially tricky. Indeed, it's a part of the body most often flubbed up in sculpture for good reason. So it's a good idea to do lots of research, artistic exercises, checks and balances with proportional tools, life study, and of actually palpating the heads of many horses to program their features into our hands.

Conclusion

Approaching the equine head from both an anatomical and artistic perspective can be helpful since each symbiotically informs the other. But being able to artistically understand things can be a more practical approach for a sculptor, allowing us to also "back trace" to the anatomy for another point of view. Truly, it's not enough to just know anatomy, we also have to translate what we know accurately into clay, right? That's where our artistry comes in. So while these two different knowledge bases need to be developed, they also need to be synced for the most effective interpretations in clay, and that takes its own special care and training.

For this reason, it's often handy to understand the equine head from multiple points of view. For example, from evolution to anatomy to conformation to breed type to viability to artistic visualizations and such, all of which conspire to give us a more rounded, complete view. Because, indeed, the head alone gives us plenty to chew on! And all the cranial features are interdependent, too, since we're also talking about a holistic system here. No aspect of the head functions as a biomechanical stand-alone. Therefore, understanding each feature separately as well as how it fits into the holistic whole isn't just informative, it's fascinating.

Because make no mistake—we need plenty of clarity when sculpting the horse's head. So much is going on in such a tight space and each aspect is completely dependent on the other for structure and placement that we have to hit our targets each and every time for it all to fit together properly. And that's the trick of it—if we develop a system to plot out our head efficiently, everything should fall into place like a connect-the-dots or jigsaw puzzle, and then it's simply a matter of banging it all out. To get to that point then, it just takes a lot of study, visualizations, and practice practice practice. For that, try some artistic exercises like drawing EENAs and other alignments onto photo print outs, doing sketches, and sculpting quickie maquettes (in non-hardening clay) to get practical volume under your belt. Because sculpting the head may be difficult, but it does get easier the more of them you sculpt. You'll also become more comfortable infusing eccentricities into your heads as you become more familiar with plotting out its basic structures. Indeed, you may soon find yourself collecting references of novel heads that inspire you as your fascination and confidence grows.

The horse's head is probably the most important part of the piece to pin down accurately. As a visual specials, we humans home in on the face instinctively, don't we? We just naturally key in on the face. So when we learn to sculpt more accurate heads on our sculptures, we're actually maximizing the connectivity our work has with the viewer. Why? Because the more accurate our sculpted heads, the more people are drawn to them in a positive way, and that spells good things for how our work connects with people. Absolutely, the horse's face is a direct line to the horse lover's heart. Mimic that effectively in your clay then and your work will come very close to triggering that same happy response they would have with a real horse, and that's a potent connection that gets horsepeople right in the feels in the best way. And what better way to get ahead is that?

"Simple is never that simple."

~ Phillip Roth