Musings at Minkiewicz Studios LLC

Block and Burnout: How to Rekindle the Creative Fire Part VI

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Fri, 29 May 2026 13:29:22 +0000

Introduction to Part VI

Here we are, finally at the last part of this enormously long and info-laden six-part series about artist block and burnout, and how to beat them. And that’s just it, the more of these tactics you apply to the problem, the better your chance at reclaiming your creativity! So don’t hold back…whack ‘em with all you’ve got! Because that’s just it — you have to fight for your art. Block and burnout just won’t go away on their own. Those bullies will just keep bugging you unless you give them a reason to leave, and all of these strategies give you an array of options to convince them to go. Because you’re worth it, your art is worth it, and your sense of joy and peace with creativity are worth it, yes? Yep!

So enough of my yammering, and let’s jump right into this last sixth part to wrap up our discussion on amending tactics while also jumping into some preventative measures to keep block and burnout at bay forever! Off we go!…

The Turnaround Strategies, cont’d

Connect with community: Find your people, find your clan. Connect with like-minded folks and become part of their community. Join online forums, participate in and attend art events, become someone of standing. A vibrant, solid community can offer inspiration, support and even humor, rounding out your creative life. But even more, a supportive artistic community can be a pivot point for developing your own creative resilience to combat blocks and burnout by being the antidote to the isolation and doubts that come with the creative experience. Indeed, a community provides a framework of camaraderie and affirmation, offering up a tremendous support system and resource clearinghouse. Embrace the power of community, and you can make new friends, fruitful networkings, exciting inspirations, and newfound resilience to thrive in your creative journey.

Make a mess: Arting is often messy business, so let it be! In other words, give yourself permission to make a mess out of things to then pull it back into more order. Like don’t your pieces go through a series of ugly stages to become the swan? Yeah, that. So don’t worry so much with each step and just enjoy the process. You’ll find your way through, trust in that. And if you have any questions, there’s always the wisdom of fellow creatives or even the community hivemind to get you out of the weeds.

Bad art: Every artist — yes, every single artist — makes “bad” art. Every artist ever has had “bad art days.” That’s simply the way of arting. You have to make some questionable art to make those few “great” pieces, too. So give yourself permission to make bad art — it’s okay. Arting is a process and part of that process is learning and part of learning is making mistakes and taking wrong turns. There will be moments when you fail — it’s not a crisis! It’s natural and normal. So just ease up on yourself and give yourself permission to be human. Quit with the unreasonable expectations of always being perfect. Always be self-kind and practice compassion with yourself — you and your art will benefit from it.

Psyche self-care: Often overlooked, this is crucial all the same. Indeed, there can be no joyful or effective arting without ample holistic mental health self-care! So carve out the time for your other interests, family and friends, activities and events to round out and amplify your engagement in your own life. There’s more to life than arting, so get out there and experience it! All your life experiences matter. Go to the movies, the fair, visit family, go out with buddies, game, have a movie night with your spouse, travel — live the fullness of your life, too. It won’t just nourish your heart, but it can do a lot to give you a needed rest from the studio to avoid burnout.

Reflect: Make some space for self-reflection to really get to the bottom of your block or burnout. Keep asking yourself, “why?” until you hit pay dirt. Angst is useful only so far as an alarm to a problem but beyond that is fixing the problem, right? And we do that by dissecting the problem completely — so get to picking it apart, as painful as it might seem. Was someone cruel to you regarding your art (that includes you, by the way)? Did something happen that was upsetting with your art? Whatever it was, sit with it and process it out. Journaling can be useful here, or talking to someone you trust. Even just talking to yourself out loud can bring the gunk to the surface. Whatever it is, you have to process it to grab the problem by the scruff of the neck.

Create for yourself: There’s no rule that says everything you create has to be for sale or for someone else. You can make art for yourself! In fact, making art without external expectations can be truly liberating and motivating. So making art simply for the joy of making art can be tremendously beneficial in more ways than one, especially if you’re battling block or burnout. Like when I was coming out of my painting burnout in the oil painting classes I was taking, I made all the maquettes for myself, and I found that to be such a delightful, novel sensation! Seriously, making art for yourself can be just the ticket!

Create with your kids: You know who “gets” arting best of all? Kids! Every single child is an artist, one deeply attuned to their creative drive and Voice. They have no artistic fears or qualms — to them, everything is possible! Superhero toasters? Of course! Talking trees? Why not? Whales floating over rainbows? Absolutely! So relearn the joy of creative freedom from the most natural artists on the planet, children! Indeed, you might have your best little guides living with you right now!

Make boundaries: “No” is your most potent ally and, remember, it’s a complete sentence. It will keep you from getting over-scheduled, overcommitted, and overworked, critical aspects for amending or avoiding burnout. Also setting boundaries ensures that your energies are best spent on what truly matters, that your precious focus isn’t squandered on things that don’t serve you. So whatever doesn’t align with your Voice, convictions, values, brand, goals, schedule, or even doesn’t inspire you, just say “no” and move on.

Remember: Celebrate your roots and all your achievements, no matter how small. Like peruse your portfolio, even from your early days, and soak up how far you’ve come. Kudos! Job well done! Reflecting on your accomplishments will boost your confidence and self-worth as well as remind you of your love for your art. So rather than looking at the works of others so much, take time to also gaze at your own portfolio to affirm your amazing journey. Truly, seeing how much you’ve done and how well you’ve developed can inspire further growth and exploration.

Take a break: Turn off social media periodically. Honestly, it’s really good to step away as often as you can. That constant feed of all those highly curated highlight reels can lead to a lot of confusion, negative self-talk, and disillusionment. Besides, social media isn’t real human interaction — it’s a facsimile. It’s why we can feel emptier after indulging it rather than fulfilled or more connected. This is because it lacks all the body language, tonal nuance, physicality, and in-the-moment realness we evolved to respond to — that in person, real-time communication. You cannot laugh with someone on a social media post like you can in person can you? Nope. Like that. So step away from it as often as you can to refocus your attention on your art and real-time life.

Creative mindfulness: Practicing mindfulness while in the throes of your creativity is a nifty way of building an emotionally sustainable arting environment for yourself. For instance, be present while you create your art. Not meditate per se, but accept your feelings and thoughts while working, or live in the moment with each brushstroke and toolstrike. Experience each moment as fully as you can and sit with it because this reorients your focus on the process and the experience of making your art, and not so much on the outcome.

Routine, rituals, and habit: Sometimes we do better with with these things because they lend structure and familiarity to our experience. So if they feed a positive sense of well-being for you, protect your routines, manage your habits, and engage in your rituals to best connect with your inner creative self.

Maintain perspective: Creativity and inspiration ebb and flow with some people while in others, it’s a constant gusher, and then everything in-between. Everyone is different. So just because some artist may be especially prolific doesn’t mean you’re a failure if you aren’t equally so. It doesn’t mean you have less ability, less ambition, or less inspiration or whatever, either. It simply means you’re each different and that’s okay! Just remember to always act in your own best interests and if that means the shape of your creativity is different from everyone else’s, no big deal. That’s the mysterious nature of arting!

Phew! That was a boatload of tactics, wasn’t it? Wow! But bundle all this up and we have ourselves quite the toolbox for fixing our block or burnout, don’t we? Note how multi-faceted they all are, too, as a block or burnout is best attacked on several fronts at once. So consider practicing several of them rather than just one or two for the best results.

Also recognize that both a block and burnout are psychological. There’s nothing physical stopping you — it’s all in your head, rooted in either fear or exhaustion. As such, nearly every artist will have to sit with them at some point, to some degree in their career. It’s how we manage them that determines whether we bounce back or get stuck, so pay attention closely to your sensibilities and creative spark. In fact, the challenges a block or burnout present can actually be catalysts for innovation, growth, evolution, and new-found inspiration!

Also remember that the Path of being an artist isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. You are the tortoise, not the hare — and remember who won the race. By staying mindful, practicing energy and time management, seeking growth and evolution, focusing on the process, and challenging your comfort zones and conventions, you can help to keep your inspirations fired up and your creative excitement hummin’ along. In this way, rather than being roadblocks, our brushes with block or burnout can instead become valuable stepping stones as we evolve and finesse our art, all the while developing our creative resilience and affirming our dedication to our art.

Preventing Creative Burnout

Believe it or not, we can prevent artist block or burnout from ever happening, no matter how rigorous our job. It’s not an inevitable fate for the artist. How? Well, by adopting some proactive tactics, artists can foster resilience to protect their creativity. So what are some of these strategies? Well, they’re as follows:

Prioritize Self-Care: This is a pillar of burnout prevention so nurture your physical, mental, and emotional health. In particular, eat properly, hydrate, and get plenty of quality sleep. Sleep deprivation is a major contributor to burnout so don’t skimp on sleep! Along those lines, inject relaxation techniques into your routine like deep breathing, meditation, or mindfulness exercises. Take breaks, too. All this can help reduce anxiety, improve focus, and mediate stress.
Establish Boundaries: It’s not always easy when we work at home, but try to establish clear boundaries between your work and personal life. Like if you can, have a separate distraction-free room or building for your studio, and keep it all contained in there. If you need to, manage your time thusly as well with designated work hours. Even avoid checking emails or taking calls or texts outside of those designated times like if you were at a conventional job.
Explore Creative Options: Explore and experiment with new media, art forms, styles, and aesthetics to avoid monotony. Pursue your other hobbies that bring you satisfaction and relaxation which can be anything from gardening to gaming to cooking to ping pong…whatevs.
Find a Support Network: Build bonds with like-minded folks who’ll understand your challenges with being an artist, often other artists. So join communities online or in-person where you can connect with other artists, offer mutual support and kudos, and share your challenges and experiences. Or seek mentorship for advice, encouragement, and guidance which can help you navigate the complications with being an artist.
Challenge your inner critic: Negative self-talk will exacerbate burnout so challenge it. Instead, give yourself praise even for the smallest victories. Absolutely, be compassionate to yourself and remember that you’re human after all. And focus on the process of making art rather than the outcome to amplify your art joy.
Redefine Success: Stop chasing external validation to instead find self-worth in your intrinsic motivations. So what does success mean to you if not defined by likes, shares, awards, contracts, or sales prices? It should most definitely have a higher meaning than all of that! Indeed, you should celebrate your creative journey so focus on the fun, learning, growing, creating, and exploration of it all instead.
Ease up: Embrace wabi-sabi earnestly. Dump the perfectionist mindset and simply relearn the joy of making art as a process, experience, and journey. Indeed, when you create in joy and freedom, your great art will simply make itself so ease up and stop trying to force it with fearful perfectionism.
Remember: Never forget your job as tasked by the Universe — use your Voice courageously and keep that channel open. That's all it is. It's not about being perfect or creating the greatest pieces ever. It's simply to be wholly yourself in your art.
Go "home": Know how to always find your way "home" no matter where you end up with your art. Recenter, reconnect, recalibrate, and retry to continue to make more art. Because that's the answer and the fix to every single arting problem — simply make more art.

Conclusion

It’s important to understand that artist block or burnout is a process, not a single event. As such, recovery will take time and proactive effort on your part. But by applying these strategies and preventative measures, you can tackle either one to reignite your creativity. Just remember you aren’t alone. Many artists have suffered either or both of these conditions, too, and there are resources to help you find your way back to the light. Reach out. Indeed, navigating block or burnout often requires a multi-pronged approach and thankfully there’s that boatload of strategies for you we discussed. In turn, you should also cultivate resilience and healthy coping mechanisms, and apply those preventive measures as needed.

Because creating art should be an enriching, fun, positive experience. If it’s not — change what you’re doing! Don’t wait for things to get so bad that you collapse into a negative singularity! Be aware of your own state of being so you can identify the best strategies for catching block or burnout early to nip them in the bud. In a sense then, beating block or burnout is in part being super kind to yourself while being quite firm with yourself, too. And it helps to know that either block or burnout is a psychological manifestation of fear or exhaustion, and you can fix it. This busted engine can indeed be brought roaring back to life with a handy toolbox full of these effective tactics!

On that note, stay connected to your creative self to keep block and burnout at bay. Never forget that creativity is your genetic inheritance — we are a creator species! It’s what we do, it’s just in our very DNA. Every child with a box of crayons knows that! Creativity is something you’re born with that never dies. Now sure, it can lay dormant but it can also thrive under duress — it all depends on you. One way or ‘nuther though, creativity is impossibly resilient, adaptive, and powerful! Lean into it.

But while block and burnout can seem like a wasteland — which they are, make no mistake on that — they also do represent a huge potential to make a major change. Put another way, it’s a wild opportunity to reinvent yourself and your art. Once you get this about either of them, perhaps you can shift your mindset away from the crushing negatives and towards the promising positives. Because your mindset will make all the difference. If you challenge and change the false notions that are holding you back from the artist you were destined to be and you realize that it just takes the smallest, teeniest step to get going forwards, you can again find inspiration in your art and conquer either block or burnout. So think of the experience as a door knob rather than a padlock.

Because neither block or burnout are inevitable, even in our enormously challenging art form and even more stringent showing paradigm and art market. By understanding the causes, symptoms, and then implementing aggressive strategies, we can not only prevent or overcome block or burnout, but we can emerge with renewed purpose and energy on the other side. So even if you’re suffering either block or burnout right now, know there is hope! You can reclaim your creativity, passion, and inspiration to create a viable, sustainable, and enormously fulfilling art life again.

I hope this series provided you with some practical tips and insights to help you beat block and burnout for good. But despite it all, above all else, remember to always be kind to yourself. Block or burnout doesn’t mean you don’t care, it’s doesn’t mean you’re indifferent, inferior, or lazy, and it certainly doesn’t mean that you don’t have skill, worth, or talent. Those are little lies they tell you to keep you stuck. The truth is, each can be made into just a temporary state, not a permanent situation if you’re willing to fight for your art. And fight for it you must! “An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one,” said Charles Horton Cooley. Indeed. You can rekindle your creative fire! You see, it never really went out — it never goes out, not ever. It just smolders and smokes a bit. But blow on it, feed it kindling, be patient and attentive, then watch those glorious flames rise rise rise! Now that’s a proper bonfire! Blaze brightly, my friend!

“There's nothing in the world that breeds success like success.”

— Bob Ross

Block and Burnout: How to Rekindle the Creative Fire Part V

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Thu, 28 May 2026 15:32:07 +0000

Introduction to Part V

We’re back for another round of turnaround strategies that knock out artist block and burnout once and for all! So far, we’ve explored what they are, their symptoms, and what causes them, and for the last few parts of this 6-part series, we’ve been deep diving into many practical tactics for dealing with them. Because no creative should have to wrestle with either only because they are preventable, they can be squelched or at the very least, managed. And the more people who are creative in our artform, the better off our artform will be by having more awareness for all the challenges that go into it all this madness. It also gets all those walls of nekkid resins and body OFs painted up and gorgeous to compete in our many shows. So let's get to it because in this Part V, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover! So let's just jump right in...

The Turnaround Strategies, cont’d

Creative sanctuary: Your creative space should be your sanctuary, your citadel, your garden, your castle keep. It should be the one place in the entire world that’s peaceful, impervious, and wholly yours, if possible. So fill it with personal touches that bring you joy, whatever they may be. Like I have all sorts of curios and photos encrusting near every surface of my studio only because they make me smile. What’s more, attend to the lighting in your studio because it not only changes the mood, but also the usability of your creative space. For instance, a flooding of nice bright light is a great mood enhancer as well as amplifying your ability to better judge color and shape. But it’s amazing how so much more light can brighten your attitude almost instantly, so add lamps or install lots of windows. (Pro tip: Use LED lamps that have a natural light setting and set them all to that setting.)

Tunnel vision is verboten: Do you create with only the outcome in mind? Do you have a specific idea of how your piece should look when finished? Do you begin your creation with a very exacting endgame in mind? If you do, you’re probably destined to hit block or burnout eventually. You see, arting is fundamentally mercurial and unpredictable. How many times has your piece taken on a life of its own and spun off in different directions? And though it comes out quite unlike your original vision, it’s cool all the same, right? Yeah, like that. Making art is essentially a spontaneous act of creation that can take on a life of its own. In fact, if you’re doing it right, in the thick of it, you become a vessel for something indescribable and the piece will literally make itself right before your eyes — and you have no idea how that’s happening. That’s the sweet spot. Never fight the piece! It knows exactly what it needs, all the time. You just have to listen to it and follow. Allow yourself to be led. Go where the piece wants to go. You and your art are dancing, and it's best if it's the lead. Because believe me, where it will take you may be surprising, but it’s a whole lot more fun and often with results that are far more compelling. Because if you start fighting your piece, guess what? Yep — you’re toying with block and burnout now. Don’t do that! So to become a more process-oriented artist, try these five tactics:

First, forge a new path, go off your customary, beaten train, unlearn your comfort zones and creative routines. Play around with new new new! As Edgar Degas observed, “Only when he no longer knows what he is doing does the painter do good things.”
Second, focus on the steps for making your piece rather than on the finished vision of it so much. Sure, we need that vision to chase — our Big Picture — just don’t let it consume your focus. Primarily keep your attention on each step as you go then, chiseling away at your vision piece by piece, immersed in the creation of it.
Third, quit overthinking things! Stop with the rational thinking to instead be in the flow of your creativity. Turn off your mind and allow your artistic instincts to take over. Also be present in the creative moment. Feel your toolstrikes and brushstrokes, be one with your paints or clay, letting yourself be transported into another spacetime made only of your arting moment. This is the creative groove — ride it out in joy!
Fourth, recognize that arting has no predetermined path. The point of art is to create and that entails exploration and transformation, play and fun. In short, art is really about the process and the finished piece is merely the incidental by-product. So let go of your urge to control your tools so much to therefore dictate the outcome of your work too much. Now — yes — we have objectives to ping if we hope to create a realistic horse in clay or pigment, but beyond that, there’s open potential, isn’t there? Explore it all with an open creative mind and with a lesser grip on the outcome. Really, the very best works are created in the guts, your instincts where your soul resides.
Fifth, embrace the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi wholeheartedly, the realization that nothing is permanent and everything is imperfect. Undeniably, wabi-sabi is perhaps the single most liberating concept you can adopt as a creative that not only makes your experience so much more wonderful, but will actually improve your work in unexpected roundabout ways. As Stephen Hawking said, “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.” Yup.

Simplify then complicate: Even the most hyper-realistic pieces are based on abstract shapes first. So don’t get intimidated or daunted by the complicated aspects — start simple and abstract then add complications in layers as you go. A nifty way to refine this approach is to do a lot of abstracted, simplified sketches or doodles, deconstructing the equine into the most basic shapes and curves. Like in my sketchbook, my horses are extremely simplified to capture movement, gesture, or posture rather than being all fleshed out. I can see them already fleshed out in my mind’s eye, so alls I need for my sketchbook are the basics to capture the inspiration.

Focus on narrative: Rather than being so fixated on representational art, or “this is a Quarter Horse” or "this is a Clydesdale" kinda motive, spice things up by creating with narratives. This won’t only add a ton of more interest to your inspirations and process, but inject a far more compelling appeal into your portfolio, too. So consider your symbolisms, motifs, visual language, and narrative themes then actively play with them.

Maintain perspective: Skill can be learned, talent can be practiced, inspiration can be generated, motivation can be stirred, vision can be cultivated, discipline can be fostered, passion can be ignited, Voice can be ampflied. It’s all doable, it’s all fixable, it’s all reachable. It’s all within your grasp if only you actively reach for it. So what’s stopping you? As ol’ Bob Ross wisely advised, “Talent is a pursued interest. Anything that you're willing to practice, you can do.” Yep.

Always go “home”: As Elizabeth Gilbert so smartly says, and I paraphrase, “Always find your way home no matter if your work catapults you to wild success or wild failure, because both are equally traumatizing.” What’s “home”? Well, it’s that essential drive that you love more than yourself, that joyful, resonating essence of who and what you’re truly all about. And it can be anything — your family, your pets, your gardening, writing, a favorite hobby, whatever trips your trigger in your most innermost core. For many artists then, it’s their passion for their art. So find it by always asking “why?” until you get to your proverbial magnetic core. Then cultivate it, plant your “home” directly on top of it, and always stay connected to it, able to find your way “home” no matter where your creative adventures take you. So, for instance, if you feel yourself uninspired, intimidated by success, or horrified by failure, think about what resonates with you so deeply that you would create again regardless of the outcome then reorient back there to create again from that point. Remember why you art in the first place and hold that drive always close, using it as a sunstone to always find your way “home.” Do this properly, and this becomes your single most amazing and invincible superpower in your arsenal to combat block or burnout. (Pro tip: Pair this with wabi-sabi and you have yourself an invincible one-two punch!)

Declutter your mind: A mind clogged up by “mental clutter” inhibits creativity with distractions, stress, and drained energy. So find a way to purge those distracting thoughts and feelings for the duration of your arting. Practice meditation, deep breathing, and perhaps even journal or vlog them out. Or even make your arting about them to process them through composition, color, narrative, and gesture. Vent them out! Art can be tremendously expressive, cathartic, and transformative — use it! Take your turmoil and troubles, and turn them into art! That’s what it’s there for! Or on the flipside, use arting as a sanctuary-laden therapy for your inner struggles, using creativity as a balm for your angst. Art can be monumentally soothing, affirmative, and reassuring — use it! That’s what it’s there for!

Revisit visuals: What are some of your favorite themes, motifs, narratives, and visuals? Identify them and revisit them creatively. Often times, familiarity can feel more comfortable and nonthreatening, teasing out your arting more easily and coaxing your sensibilities better. There’s a lot to be said for hiking the same path if it brings you serenity, comfort, and enjoyment. Besides, there’s always a potential fun new series to explore in that approach, isn’t there?

Adopt actual goals: Do you want to be a better artist? Do you want to be more creative and productive? Do you want to get rid of your creative fear? Do you want to develop better ideas or a stronger Voice? Well, stop. Just stop. Yes — stop! You see, more times than you think block and burnout are born from self-deceptive goals. And all of that is self-deceptive! Instead, replace it with actual goals that are kinder and attainable. For example, work on your courage and confidence in your creativity, develop a more proactive mindset, get more in-tune with your “home,” or become more intentional in your arting, with a stronger purpose. You see, once you achieve these actual goals, you’ll automatically become a better artist that’s more creative and productive, who has conquered their fears and who developed more compelling ideas with a stronger Voice. Do you see how that works? Self-deceptive goals work from a position of weakness while actual goals work from a position of strength — always pick the latter. This is because actual goals are growth-oriented based on steps you can actually attain, without comparisons or value judgments, building motivation and providing structure to boot. Those are your stepping stones to generate real creative agency. Along those lines, don’t overload yourself with too many projects at once. It’s okay to have multiple projects going, but just pace yourself and proceed in a way where they’re actually completed rather than just spinning your wheels and getting overwhelmed. On that note, consider breaking down your workload into manageable steps with attainable deadlines — create a production schedule. This can help you be more proactive and organized which can empower you and reduce stress.

Be led: Quit with micromanaging your art! Stop trying to cram a square peg into a round hole! Instead, let it lead the dance, let it go where it will, and follow without judgment. Like transform accidental creative events into purposeful ones, learning how to channel spontaneous creativity into intentional practice. This is exactly how I create my art — I follow the happy accidents and work in a way that generates more, following them to completion. As such, my pieces simply create themselves and I’m their means to self-actualize. It’s a beautiful, mysterious feeling!

Create together: You know what’s super fun with creativity? Being creative with other creatives! So consider setting up some arting playdates in your home or even on Zoom. Make it a regular thing! Indeedy, creativity is extremely contagious and there’s tremendous fun and joy to be found arting with a rambunctious group! So also consider joining a local art group or event, or collaborate with other artists.

Conclusion to Part V

As you can see over these last few Parts, the effectiveness of all these tactics rests on one thing: Your proactive gumption to initiate them. You don’t have to do all of them, but the fact is that the more you deploy, the more effective your results. This is because block and burnout can be very stubborn, especially if you’ve been suffering them for some time. They can indeed be like heavy weights on your shoulders. However, get just a handful of these strategies in gear, and you have a really good shot at lifting that burden once and for all! That’s worth the effort, isn’t it? So in Part VI, the last part, we’re going to complete our exploration of these tactics as well as take a look at how to prevent block and burnout, giving us a big ol' mecha-punch against them.

“Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one.”

— Stella Adler

Block and Burnout: How to Rekindle the Creative Fire Part IV

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Wed, 27 May 2026 13:29:10 +0000

Introduction to Part IV

We’re back in Part IV of this 6-part series exploring artist block and burnout, and many of the practical strategies for jettisoning them out of your airlock. Because it’s critical to protect your arting since your creativity is immensely important both for you and our genre. You see, creativity is very very good for you! Indeedy, it's good for your brain, body, and wellbeing, as more and more studies are discovering. Creativity has even been found to be as effective as regular exercise to slow biological aging! Know it or not, too, but you being creative could mean a breath of new life into our art form since we just never know where the next innovation or fresh insight will come from, do we? It could come from you! So if you develop more fearlessness in your creativity, enough to really jump in head first into our arts, that’s a win win all the way ‘round! Woot! And knowing how to keep block and burnout in check is a survival skill for any artist, working in any genre. Ya gotta have this toolkit! So enough talk! Let’s continue our deep dive into the proactive strategies that can help us carve them out from our art life!…

The Turnaround Strategies, cont’d

Schedule it: Focus on the habit of making art, set a schedule. Folks like us create not for the big reveal, do we? No. We create because it’s in our bones, it’s who we are. Arting is as necessary and natural as breathing. So commit to consistent small arting sessions rather than simply waiting for inspiration to pummel your noggin. “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working,” said Pablo Picasso, and he’s absolutely right. So create art daily, even on the smallest scale, regardless of the end goal or result. Now it may be a challenge in a busy calendar to make time for arting, but like any important appointment, arting deserves a spot in your daily routine, too. So just schedule regular, undisturbed blocks of time to art. Even short sessions can lead to goodly progress and maintain artistic rhythm. Heck, it can be as simple as doodling or sketching, nothing major, just get to it. Truly, integrating creativity into your everyday life can cultivate a more productive artistic journey and lead to tangible growth a lot faster than waiting around for inspiration to kick in. Then when you’re ready, you can make arting a more expansive part of your day rather than just a scheduled session — or not. Whatever works for you, whatever gets you creative regularly is the right choice. The point is to create consistency, practice daily, and don’t break the artistic flow. Show up. Sure, it takes discipline, but once it gains momentum, you’re going to feel a lot more empowered and energized, then just watch your courage and confidence grow! Routine breeds consistency and consistency breeds inspiration, so show up and do the work — your art will thank you.

Trick yourself: Tell yourself that you’re going to destroy the first steps you create whether sculpting, painting, tack-making or whatever. Into the proverbial bin. You see, this releases pressure and destroys expectations, but paradoxically, you often end up keeping those initial steps or pieces anyway. But you need to give yourself permission to first vent the pressure.

Inspire Inspiration: Sometimes our inspiration needs a little help, like its pump needs to be primed. So go to horse shows and expos, galleries and museums, visit open studios and art fairs. Read poetry, look at horse books, watch horse videos or movies, listen to music, take some reference photographs. Plus, engaging other forms of art can inspire your imagination and infuse some new perspectives and aesthetics into your work. Allowing creativity to seep into every aspect of you life can till fertile soil for your inspiration because ideas can come from many unexpected sources. And never underestimate the power of Nature to be monumentally inspirational! Then put yourself to work with sketching, doodling, drawing, photographing, whatever. Do some plein air painting to capture a compelling in situ moment. Whatever trips your trigger. But one inspiration will lead to another which will lead to another, and soon you’ll be in a proverbial room full of countless inspirations ping-ponging off the walls! That’s how inspiration actually works! Once you get it going, it self-sustains as one idea births another, and off you go.

Art play: The truth is, if you’re doing it right, your art is always play. So when you get stuck, or are uninspired or unmotivated, remember to get back to playing around again with your creativity. Experiment. FAFO. Explore and discover. Push boundaries and challenge convention, especially your own. Not only does this expand your skillset and explore your potential, but it’ll reignite your arting to keep your work fresh and evolving. Remember, learning means experimentation so make that intrinsic to each and every piece, and reinvigorated creativity isn’t far behind. For instance, just for fun, switch out the typical colors on your palette — see what happens! Or even just add one new color and see what’s produced. When sculpting, make it about exploring narrative, structure, gesture, expression, mood, or novelty rather than just another routine “this is a horse” piece. Always remember that art and play are meant to pair up, so smash them together in your own creative Hadron Collider!

Start small: Tackle a small, simple piece to create a sense of accomplishment. You can’t deny that the sheer scale of our task can feel really overwhelming so scale it back. Likewise, break down your process or project into small manageable baby steps, as small as you need them to be. Like rather than be intimidated by that daunting sanding job you have to do on that expensive resin, just sand one leg, even one foot. Then when you’re done with that, move to another body portion the next day. No big whoop — you’re getting it done, slowly but surely. Remember, the tortoise won the race! But babystepping can make even the most daunting, ambitious tasks attainable and more importantly, feel attainable. Indeed, setting smaller, manageable goals can be just the ticket so choose the smallest unit of creativity it would take to get you arting again. Remember, no skyscraper was built all at once!

Personal challenges: Establish achievable goals and objectives, and the more novel, the better. In other words, the more they get you to play and explore, all the better, right? This helps to provide some structure while keeping you engaged plus it’s a big injection of learning and skill building, all of which will certainly refocus your attention back onto the process and away from the outcome.

Embrace failure: Your fear of failure is a formidable obstacle, isn’t it? Blorg. But the truth is that every piece is a learning adventure, not a test. What’s more, absolutely no breakthroughs will be found if you stay in your comfort zone. The real joy of arting is in the making of it, of all the discovery, exploration, growth, revelations, and happy accidents you stumbled onto while creating it. It’s miraculous to see your piece just come alive in your hands, step by step! And the thing is, we can correct our mistakes or realign our vision as we go, right? There’s no law that says your first toolstrokes are you only and last ones! Many mediums give you ample room to try again and again and again. Indeed, on a white-grey oil painted piece I was creating as an experiment, Ta’alaq, I seriously messed up his paintjob. It was so awful — ack! But no big whoop! I just painted right over my mistake, the whole thing, and tried again and succeeded on the second go. Never be afraid of trying again.

Mediating criticism: Here’s the deal — you make art, there will be a critic. That’s part of the Faustian Deal. That critic can be someone else, and often is, but your first and most lethal critic is yourself, isn’t it? But here’s the thing, “the audience comes last,” as Rick Rubin so astutely observes. And he’s right — the only person you need to be concerned with pleasing with your art is you, and only you. Ignore all the rest out there as pointless noise. People will talk….so? Let them. Their opinion, either good or bad, just shouldn't hold sway. See, no one knows your Truth like you do, do they? Nope. And there are so many trolls out there as well as careless, thoughtless clods to boot. Don’t allow the wrong person to discourage you but instead allow the right people to encourage you, and that includes yourself! Indeed, if you create work just for yourself, it’s amazing how your art will become so much more powerful, authentic, compelling, and unique! It’ll become far more Voiceful, and that, artist, is your true calling. Not to make perfection, which is impossible to attain, not to chase external validation, which is toxic, but to make Voiceful art, courageously and joyfully. That’s it, that’s all. So get to it! As Andy Warhol wisely advised, “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.”

Dampen distraction: In our hyper-connected world nowadays, distraction is everywhere. FOMO, doomscrolling, bingewatching, social media, news, radio, launches, and other endless stimulation…it’s a lot. It’s too much. The human animal wasn’t meant to function on the global stage all the time, if at all. It was meant to live in its little neck of the woods and deal just with that. So all this influx of distraction can be unknowingly very stressful and draining — so cut it out. When you’re arting, make it a non-negotiable rule of no distractions. Leave your devices out of the studio if need be. No phone calls, no texts, no checking social media. Schedule appointments, activities, and chores for other days. Do whatever it takes to block out uninterrupted, undistracted creative quiet time and fully immerse yourself in it without a care. It’s good for you and your art.

Careful consumption: Likewise, be exceedingly mindful of the content you consume. Is that content positive and inspiring, supportive of your efforts and psyche? Or is it draining, upsetting, and anxiety-inducing? What you expose yourself to will define the flavor of your day and even influence your ability to create. So also consider keeping your finger on the pulse of things at a set time of the day, and no more. Yes, we need to stay current, but there’s also a balance to be struck with our everyday lives and functionality — and our creativity. Stay mindful of that balance at all times. Curate your experience carefully because ultimately it’s all about your mental health and your ability to stay creative that can be just as important. And truth be told, staying balanced and joyfully creative is perhaps the most punk rock thing you can be doing nowadays.

Structured distraction: Unfortunately many creatives have the idea that they need to be hyper-focused to create good work, even for hours on end. However, the human brain didn’t evolve for this, sustaining uninterrupted attention for hours upon hours. It’s made to function between focus and periodic distraction, so make those distractions strategic. Take breaks! Instead of working through demotivation, boredom, fatigue, or disinterest, take a tactical break. This will reset you, prevent creative fatigue, improve your state of mind, and help you create even better work. This can be particularly important with really tedious tasks such as ticking, dappling, and prepping. So take your time, take breaks, and allow your mind to reset itself.

Less comparisons, more creating: Quit with the habitual comparison of your art to the work of others! Quit internally lamenting your “failings” when you study other works at shows or expos. Quit thinking you aren’t good enough for gosh sakes! Do you think your skills are too lousy to count, your ideas and inspirations subpar, your artworks average or even bad? You’re feeling inferior and insignificant? Okay then — by what measure? You see, comparing yourself to others is deceiving, self-defeating, and useless. Now, yes, it’s okay to draw inspiration from other artists, but it’s not okay to compare your work to theirs. Why? Well, it’s an apples and oranges comparison! They are not alike! Your magic isn’t like their magic whatsoever and theirs is nothing like yours — nor should it be. Because here’s the thing, you don’t need their magic, yours is more than enough! Trust me, yours is plenty! Indeed, your Voice is unique in all of space and time — think about that for a moment. Why in the world would you want to snuff it out or pollute it, even deny it? Instead then, take all that energy and direct it right back onto making more of your art, Voiceful, loud and proud! That’s where it’s better spent anyway. And you can only be yourself, right? The only one qualified to be you is you! The only thing the Universe tasks you with, artist, isn’t perfection or creating The GOAT piece, it’s simply this: Use your pure, unique Voice courageously, keeping the inspirational channel open. Bingo! So stop trying to create like another artist, stop trying to be an artist you aren’t because you don’t need to be! You just focus on magical you, on your own unique supernatural Voice, and once you find it, cultivate it and express it fully in your art then let the chips fall where they may. Absolutely, always stay true to your own Voice because not only is this more fulfilling, it makes your work far more authentic, distinctive, compelling, expressive, and even transforms it into that indescribable thing you’ve probably been so ardently searching for all these years.

New stuff: We all know the power of new art supplies, don’t we? Oh, yes! So find motivation in reconnecting with your materials, new or otherwise. The sensory boost you get from even playing with your brushes can spark dormant creativity all by itself. Or play with colors you avoid or haven’t used before, or new types of clays or epoxies. Play around with your color pencils in novel ways. You see, it’s not just about regarding your art as a product, but remembering it as a process, a tactile, fascinating experience that’s as much a part of arting as anything else. So buy some new art supplies and play around with them, or grab ones you hardly use and futz around with those. Either which way, playing with new stuff can really get those creative embers fired up!

Conclusion to Part IV

Interesting stuff, huh? These strategies are so simple, but so effective! In essence, they trick your sensibilities into making this artform less intimidating, or rather, help your brain believe that it truly can do it — because it can! That’s the thing, every human brain is a creative genius simply waiting to be tapped into, so who knows what sort of amazing potential yours holds just waiting to be unlocked! In Part V then, we’re going to explore even more breakthrough strategies you can apply to knock out block and burnout. They’re easy, they’re practical, and they’re highly effective — a triple punch!

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

— Dr. Seuss

Block and Burnout: How to Rekindle the Creative Fire Part III

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 26 May 2026 20:58:29 +0000

Introduction to Part III

Welcome back to this 6-part exploration of artist block and burnout, which mostly entails a deep dive into a lot of the practical tactics we can employ to snuff them out once and for all. And keeping them at bay is so important! Untold numbers of would-be artists may be suffering from block due to the daunting nature of our art form. Or if they do start, they’re at risk for burnout, another unfortunate circumstance that can be avoided with some smart strategies. Either which way, we want to steer folks clear of them to keep people happily banging out their art by the metric ton to fill our community with hordes of gorgeous horses!

So on that note, let’s jump right in and continue our exploration of the nifty strategies we can use to combat block and burnout effectively! Let’s go!…

The Turnaround Strategies, cont’d

Bang it out: Now this may sound really dopey, but it’s a powerful approach — just make literally anything. It doesn’t matter what it is or if it turns out awful. The point is to start and keep doing, not focus the end product. See, here’s the thing, once you start creating, it generates its own momentum even if you end up not liking it. So make a bunch of stuff and and chances are you’ll start creating things you like. So while it all may not be your best work — it’s something! But the trick is, creativity thrives in momentum so just keep creating and eventually pieces will pop out that you are happy with and learn from in the process. Honestly, many professional artists make a lot of "ho-hum" art for every “great” piece because that’s how arting often works. Not every piece you create will be The One so learn to fail forwards and learn each lesson well. Focus on the process, exploration, and growth rather than the end product so much. See, the thing is, the finished piece is merely the incidental by-product, so shift your attention away from it and back on the experience of making it.

Dump comfort zones: Throw all your comfort zones out the window! Start fresh! Leave behind your normal arting routine and invent a new one if you have to. Just try something new, leave familiarity behind, and explore your creativity with more wanton abandon. Like if you normally only do small pieces, try something bigger. If you use oils, try pastels, or try your oils in a fresh way. If your painting is normally really “tight,” try a “looser,” more painterly approach. If you use a limited palette open it up to unconventional colors. If all you’re familiar with are stock horses, sculpt a Marwari or Belgian. Or try different tools even or new ways of using your old ones. Unlearn habitual ways of making your art and discover new avenues of arting whether with fresh new aesthetics, tools, clays, pigments, approaches or interpretations. Your imagination is limitless so set it free to explore new everything!

Play music: Music activates other areas of your brain and so can be a powerful generator of inspiration, relaxation, and engagement. Indeed, many artists play music as they work, finding that it even inspires their toolstrikes and brushstrokes. Some artists are directly inspired by music, creating pieces specifically related to a tune or style of music. And it can be whatever music gets you going, or even the music that “fits” the piece you’re working on. For instance, I listened to a lot of Ennio Morricone as I sculpted Incostante, my portrait of the black horse from the film, The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. I found it really set the mood and flavored the process in a wonderful way.

Breaktime: Physical and mental exhaustion can subdue your creative drive, even stop it, so it’s essential to recognize when you’re feeling drained. Honestly, ignoring that will only make the situation worse. So take regular breaks or as you need them — but take them. Work on something else, distract yourself with something quite different, or simply close your eyes for a time. Like when I need a sculpting break, I write, sketch, or create digital illustrations. Just for an hour or two, then I get back into the studio, but that short break time really helps to replenish my resolve and mental sharpness. In this way, incorporating short breaks to recharge can prevent mental fatigue that helps to maintain better focus. You see, the human brain wasn’t meant to focus on one thing intently for hours upon hours upon hours. That only leads to exhaustion, mistakes, and inferior work. Clear you head. Stretch, read, listen to music. Consider a walk or light hike — light exercise is a great way to reinvigorate yourself with new vitality and maybe even a fresh inspiration you found along the way. So when you start to feel overwhelmed or tired, engage activities that replenish your energy and serenity. Like, go carouse with your horse, play with your dog or cat, knit or sew, cook, take a nap, or watch a movie. Give yourself permission to rest when you need it! Listen to your mind, your art, and your body. And sometimes stepping away is essential — maybe you need a good night’s sleep, a day off, or doing something else for a time. There’s no shame in taking a break. Your art won’t suffer for it, in fact, if it’s a good break, your art will benefit as much as you will. Indeed, short breaks during a creative session or breaks between projects can help prevent burnout by slowing you down to a more relaxed, enjoyable, less frenzied pace. The anxiety generated from knowing you’re supposed to work but can’t is just a pointless vicious cycle and only associates arting with negative vibes, something you want to avoid.

Get offline: Know it or not, but technology is exhausting and can drain you, and it feeds that pesky FOMO syndrome that can be so distracting. There's this, too: Being online is just a whole lotta peopling, isn't it? So gather inspiration away from screens. Read, visit a museum or gallery, look at horse books and magazines, go to horse shows, fairs, or expos. The point is — unplug, it’s good for you and your art.

Dump tech: Similarly, get off your phone and devices! Quit with the social media addiction! Return to the real world of right here and now in your life. Reducing screen time is truly a great way to reconnect with the creative side of your brain. So take some time away to explore your imagination and creative sensibilities offline. FOMO be darned! The art you create is just as cool as anything else, and it may be far more helpful and important for your psyche than what someone else is doing anyway. Besides, what’s a better use of your time? Doomscrolling mindlessly and getting into flamewars, or making art?

Try other artform: Who says your art just has to be about realistic equine sculpture and painting? Try jewelry-making, pottery, crochet, stained glass, gardening, book-making, printing, or any number of other arts and crafts. Art is imminently versatile and so is your creativity. You have far more potential inside of you than you suspect — explore it! And follow where it leads. Whatever piques its interest — go! Creativity does best when well fed — so break out that proverbial smorgasbord!

Journal: Often times a block or burnout is accompanied by a dearth of fresh ideas, so why not capture them as they randomly come in a handy little journal? Don’t let fleeting inspirations or ideas be lost! Really, some days your mind will be full of fresh thoughts and some days it’ll be just “meh,” but with a little journal, it doesn't matter! You can grab what you can quickly. Inspirations, prompts, thoughts, notions, wishes, sketches, ideas — whatever, just get it down. Then if your well of inspiration is running dry some day, just pull out that journal the take your pick! In fact, if you make it a fun rule to jot down any idea or inspiration, no matter how silly or dopey — especially if it’s dopey — then make it! Even if it’s terrible, chances are even your worst ideas hold a kernel of inspiration to get you going elsewhere. And understand that you’ll have to slog through a lot of nonsensical notations to end up with something really good so don’t think everything you jot down is The Golden Idea! It’s just a silly notion…run with it.

Hiatus: Think about this — do you actually need a long break from your creativity? If you do, there’s no shame in that. It’s alright to take a hiatus. You’re human after all. Remember, arting is supposed to be good for you, supposed to be therapeutic, so if it stresses you out, maybe it’s time to step away for a longer time. Now might also be a great time to seek therapy from a professional to provide you with some tools and explorations to dissect what’s really going on.

Clean your art space: There’s nothing quite like a clean art space ready to mess up that can get that itch twitching again. So clean up your creative space, maybe even rearrange and reorganize it. Changing up your creative environment can sometimes jog things loose all by itself. Even add elements that personalize the space or add to the inspirational atmosphere such as hanging certain art works or quotes that speak to you.

Forget sharing: Who says people have to see what you create? It’s still art even if you’re the only one who sees it! So never feel obligated to post or share your work. You don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want to. It’s your private world if you wish it that way. So create work without a care, without pressure or expectation — no one is going to see it anyway. Heck, you can just throw it away if you want. There’s no law saying that everything you create has to follow you around the rest of your life. Like in some of my conventional art classes I take, I just don’t mention that I’m already a working artist which creates more of an expectation buffer as I learn new skills.

Make “bad” art: Lower your expectations! Quit with the perfectionism and ditch the masterpiece mentality! It’s perfectly alright to make “bad” art or use sketches or maquettes to build momentum. And the truth is, all artists have a “bad art day” — all of them make “bad” art from time to time. In fact, you go through a lot of “bad” art to create those few “great” pieces, that’s just the mystery of arting. Like I make lower grade custom maquettes for the painting classes I take. They have remaking flaws galore and I don’t make all the corrections they actually need, but I don’t care — they’re simply made to be fun bodies to learn oil painting on, that’s it. And my NaReViMo horses are a step down because they're also meant as fun learning maquettes, not my usual bust-my-gut work. So give yourself permission to be a foible human being and just have some fun with your creativity, especially as you learn.

Utilize prompts: Why not get inspiration from word prompts, or music, books, poetry, plays, dance, or symphonies? And Nature is a tremendous prompt all around us. Participate in challenges and NaMoPaiMo, NaMoScuMo, or NaReViMo. Make good use of that energy!

Revisit old work: This isn’t to say to revamp past work — nope! Leave your old work alone, trust me on this. Instead, just revisit that familiar idea or inspiration with a new piece, but in a new refurbished way. Study your past work since burnout often carries with it a lot of self-doubt and low confidence so it’s easy to forget all your past achievements. So go peruse your past portfolio, both the “good” and “bad.” Remember how the “good” pieces made you feel, even with all their difficult challenges. If it’s a “bad” piece, look how far you’ve come! Now reconsider that self-doubt — not so accurate, is it?

Proactive study: One of the best ways to kick yourself out of a funk is learning a new knowledge base, skill, aesthetic, or method. So focus on learning new stuff from techniques to anatomy to color genetics to color theory to composition to media to whatever trips your trigger. And it doesn’t even have to be with realistic horses! It can be anything creative from basketweaving to glass torchwork to programming. Just get creative in any direction! Like I took a series of pottery classes for kicks, learning to throw on a wheel and handbuild, and I found that it not only informed my equine art, but it actually improved it and my experience creating it! One form of creativity informs another, and you just never know what that treasure trove will be until you venture out!

Embrace Imperfection: Realize that not every piece must be a museum-worthy masterpiece and not every piece has to be a wild success, even from the first stroke. Wabi-sabi, baby! Just create art for the sake of creating it and learn from the mistakes and correct them as you go and grow. Indeed, perfectionism is typically your greatest hurdle. See, art isn’t about perfection! No no no. That’s the scam we’re sold, the lie we tell ourselves, the delusion we’re under. The truth is, art is about expression and connection — that’s all! So instead, set your intention on the process of making the art itself and not the outcome so much. Give yourself the freedom to make mistakes because you know what? Your mistakes tend to be those components of your Voice that are so critical to great work anyway. Too often people think that perfectionism is a strength, but it’s not — it’s a weakness. A big one. Like too many folks believe that perfectionism is what makes you good at your art, but it’s not — it makes you worse at it. Indeed, overworking is a very real thing, creative paralysis is typically imminent, and spinning your wheels can happen all too easily. The truth is that perfectionism is just the fear at being bad at what you’re doing, that’s all, and that has nothing to do with creating compelling or quality art. Indeed, that fear can be so strong as to prevent you from arting in the first place, even when you know you’re going to enjoy the process. How is that a good thing? How is perfectionism not inherently toxic? So just remember that perfectionism is simply fear. It’s not a physical block or a law — it’s all in your head. And you’re stronger than your fears, yes?

Quiet time: Give yourself moments of undistracted, undisturbed think time. Meditate, sit in silence, lay out on your deck alone, go lay down on the couch. Just give yourself quiet time to think deeply and allow your mind to relax and wander. Often times, this is where imaginative creative magic can happen.

Conclusion to Part III

Wow, that was a lot to digest, wasn’t it? There’s a lot of tactics at our disposal to wrestle these two knuckleheads to the ground, which is good for us — bad for them. So in Part IV, yep, we’ll continue with even more of these strategies, giving you lots more adaptive responsiveness you can custom-fit to your situation!

“If you hear a voice within you saying, ‘You are not a painter,’ then by all means paint…and that voice will be silenced.”

― Vincent van Gogh

Block and Burnout: How to Rekindle the Creative Fire Part II

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Sun, 24 May 2026 15:35:47 +0000

Introduction to Part II

We’re back with our exploration of artist block and burnout, and how to kick them to the curb. In Part I, we discussed what block and burnout actually are, their causes and symptoms, and in this Part II, we begin our tally of all the various strategies we can use to squish them once and for all. And it’s important to squish them because they are two of the most common reasons for people not being creative in our art form. If we can get more folks banging out cool pieces in our genre though, imagine all the possibilities! Indeed, out next big superstar could be out there, suffering block and simply needing some practical tools to beat it! So let’s just get right to it in this 6-part series, shall we? Let’s go!…

The Turnaround Strategies

Are you currently stuck with a block or suffering burnout? Or maybe you’ve been stuck for a really long time and are afraid of a comeback? Maybe you haven’t arted in so long, you even doubt your ability to create now? Maybe you feel paralyzed and hopeless? Has your confidence crashed to rock bottom? Do you feel disempowered and lost? Maybe even despair? I’m sorry. But the thing is block and burnout can make us feel powerless as if it was simply meant to be, as if there was nothing to be done about it. But nothing could be further from the truth! There’s a ton we can do about it! Some very simple strategies can break the cycle and though they may not be so easy per se, they are highly effective if you practice them. And the more strategies you practice, the more creative momentum you gain. But here’s the thing — you have to be proactive. Busting out of these cycles means you have to make the first move. If what you were doing got you in this bad state to begin with, you have to change what you’re doing to bust loose, right? But the good news is, these moves are often small and super fun, all doable no matter how bad your cycle has gotten. You just have to take a breath, dig deep, and do them. Take the first step, blindly if you have to. It’s a leap of faith. The really good news is this though: Your creativity will catch you. It will always catch you, you just have to learn to trust it again. And if you don’t like your first attempts when gearing back up again — no biggie. Keep going! Just keep going! Arting is like a pump, it needs to be primed. It needs something to feed on to really get going — so feed it! Just keep going and going and going, screaming into the void if you have to! Make it Toad’s Wild Ride if need be! But just keep going! Trust me — it will come back and also become easier and more enjoyable.

Now that being said, the real trick to amending a block or burnout is to avoid them in the first place — an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. We’ll talk about how to do that a bit later. But that aside, the important part is first recognizing the problem as a real problem, not just a mere temporary phase. Indeed, we should treat block and burnout seriously, taking active steps to turn them around rather than passively waiting for them to blow over. Why? Because chances are they won’t blow over on their own — they need intervention. Happily though, there are gobs of practical strategies we can implement to do just that! So let’s explore each one…brace yourself…there are a ton of them…

Professional intervention: If burnout persists, seek help from a mental health professional, preferably one who specializes in treating creatives. Therapy or counseling can give you effective tools for finding your way back and for dealing with stress to improve your well-being. Burnout isn’t to be trifled with as it can have very real consequences for an artist! Indeed, the American Psychological Association (APA) has identified burnout as a valid occupational hazard with real health consequences. If you need to reach out because of burnout, resources like HelpGuide.org has comprehensive information on it, its effect, and solid strategies to escape its syndrome.

Change mediums, styles, or subjects: Go for it — try a different medium! Like I painted in acrylics for over twenty years and recently discovered oils, and lo — my painting passion came roaring back! Now I can’t wait to jump into the next painting project! So try oils, pastels, color pencils, even watercolor if all you’re familiar with is acrylics, for example. Or try different styles of painting like that very painterly brushstroke style for manes and tails popular now. Or if you’re accustomed to a more general type of painting, try an approach that highlights and shades the muscles more. Try a new color you’ve not painted before, or a new breed, or dive into portraying different types of equines than just horses. Like if you haven’t tackled a donkey or zebra before, now is the time! Or try a Unicorn, Hippocorn, Kirin, or winged horse, even in a fantasy color! Why not?

Doodle: You don’t always have to create realistic equines! You can simply create meaningless doodles, scribbling mindlessly to release pressure. Indeed, doodling has been found to give certain parts of the brain a rest while gearing up other, more helpful areas related to memory and relaxation. It also increases creative thinking and problem-solving in a way that’s free of pressure or expectation, allowing for more creative associations to be made. It’s also been found that doodling helps you process emotions so if you’re feeling depressed, anxious, frustrated, or despairing, even desperate, doodle all that out to gain some processing-out power. In this way, doodling can reduce stress much like a coloring book as it calms the amygdala, the portion of the brain responsible for the fight, flight, or freeze response which is linked to anxiety and stress. Doodling has also been found to help us learn better. Indeed, studies have found that those students who doodled during a lecture tended to retain more information and make better sense of complex ideas. Similarly, it’s also thought to reduce distraction and increase innovative thinking, priming the brain for stimulation by keeping it out of a default resting state, primed for action. In this way, doodling can help you Big Picture problems or challenges by stimulating both the conscious and unconscious mind, allowing you to make novel connections otherwise untapped. Most of all though, research has found that doodling can improve your mood, making you happier and more relaxed and decompressed, especially when doodling something you love. So never underestimate the power of a doodle! If in doubt — doodle!

Sketch: Likewise, never underestimate the power of your sketchbook! Just make some quickie scribbles with no expectations or pressure…just start jotting down simple HSOs (horse-shaped objects) for fun. Practice capturing gesture and posture and pose, movement and moment. Just have some creative playtime without needing to be perfect. Like stick with first strokes and see where that goes, or not. If using your eraser makes you happier, go for it! And let your imagination wander where it will, like in a dreamstate. Whatever you do, just practice sketching for the creative play it actually is. It can truly be amazing what can actually pop out when we leave our brain the heck alone while it’s creating and quit with all our expectations and impositions.

Just Start: Just take a deep breath, darn the torpedoes, and begin, expecting nothing. Now that may sound easier said than done, right? But believe me, if you just dive in with zero expectations, it’s amazing where your art can go. And make a deal with yourself: It’s okay to throw away what you just made because it’s the act of starting that matters, not the outcome. Now if that pristine piece of paper, canvas, resin, or OF is impeding you — mess it up! Or find one that’s already messed up. Like doodle on used Post-It Notes, paint over cruddy old canvases, have a friend draw pencil marks all over your resin, or buy a beaten up, cheap ol’ OF. Remember that “it’s too perfect to ruin” mentality is a block! You’ve got to jump over it with strategy and guile! You gotta be devious if you hope outsmart your own blocked brain.

Take a trip: Travel is a tremendous way to jumpstart your creativity. There are few things more effective for getting us out of our own heads than a new adventure! And who knows what kinds of inspirations lay in wait for us along the way. Even better — take an art-based trip or horse-based excursion. Absolutely, there are plenty of horseback riding or dude ranch vacations to be tapped into, and loads of artist retreats just waiting for you to dive in. Sometimes what we really need is to just shake our own tree — hard — and travel has an uncanny way of doing just that. (Pro tip: Take a sketchbook or plein air set to jot down images of your adventures.)

Classes, tutorials, and workshops: Sometimes the guided structure of an educational setting is just the ticket for booting us out of our funk. It provides built-in deadlines and motivation, as well as a goodly support system not just with the instructor, but also with your fellow students. Surrounding yourself with creative people is wonderfully contagious! And it’s always beneficial to see other peoples’ processes, struggles, and triumphs as a shared experience and as a learning opportunity. Besides, taking classes and workshops beefs up your skill set and can bust the rust off, proving to yourself that not only have you still got it, but you have loads of more potential inside of you than you never suspected. And maybe you even discover new media, methods, and aesthetics. What a huge double dose of fuel on that creative fire! And it all doesn’t have to be related to our own art form. It can be creative classes on anything such as pottery, writing, stained glass, cooking, dance, sewing, plein air painting — whatever — the point is to just get creative again, in any direction.

Paint n’ sip: The great thing about going to paint n’ sips is that the focus isn’t on making masterpieces, it’s about making memories. It’s pure wabi-sabi arting! It’s all about the experience, not the product. Getting out of your head for two hours and just smearing pigment on a canvas — it can be cathartic. And that’s often exactly the ticket to bust us loose out of a block or burnout cycle. You see, it’s highly structured, it’s led step by step, it’s fast and instant gratification, you need zero artistic ability, it’s casual and low-key, there’s zero emphasis on perfection, and even better, arting with a bunch of other folks also having a good time is addictive and replenishing. It’s just a series of win wins that can be highly effective in kicking block or burnout out the door!

Conclusion to Part II

So we’re at the end of Part II with a good start with some nifty tactics to curb block and burnout! But brace yourselves, there’s a ton more comin’ down the pike! Yep! The great news is that there are a pile of ways to keep block and burnout at bay, and if we apply a few of them simultaneously, we’ve got a great shot at beating them outright to get back to our creative selves. And the more people being creative in our genre, the better! It gets more people recognizing the realities behind the studio door, it gets our classes packed, and it has more people realizing their horsey dreams for reals. And arting is good for you — very very good for you. Indeed, science has proven that it reduces stress and lowers cortisol while boosting dopamine. It also improves the plasticity of the brain and develops creative problem solving. What's more, it's been found in a new study that being creative even slows biological aging, being as effective as exercise! How 'bout dem apples?

So in the spirit of all this good stuff, let’s continue our deep dive into all the strategies that beef up your defense against artist block and burnout in Part III. Yep, there’s a lot more shenanigans to get through!

“Don’t worry about mistakes. Making things out of mistakes, that’s creativity.”

— Peter Max

Block and Burnout: How to Rekindle the Creative Fire Part I

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Fri, 22 May 2026 13:10:49 +0000

Introduction to Part I

Many years ago, I suffered painter’s burnout. I was done. Done painting realistic equine sculptures. I had enough of the tedium, the pressure, the expectations, the demands, the frustrations, and the physical pain it actually caused my hands. It no longer inspired me, no longer moved or interested me. It was soul-crushing drudgery. And so I quit, cold turkey. Instead, I became entranced by sculpture which took over my passion immediately, drawing me away from painting with blithe ease. In short, when I was customizing in my early days, I realized it was sculpture, not paintwork that held my fascination.

But I see now that was a mistake. An easy mistake to make, but a mistake all the same. A big one to boot. You see, I realize now that I wasn’t burned out with painting — I was burned out with the way I painted! And that’s a very different equation. And it’s a problem with some relative easy fixes had I known at that time.

So my mistake doesn’t have to be your mistake. If you’re suffering from artist block or burnout then, there are some highly effective strategies, even paradigm shifts you can employ to bust right through it and get back to being creative again. And that’s important. A creative not being creative is pretty much an existential crisis. As Brené Brown observes…

“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.

Yes. Absolutely, yes. Indeed, your creativity block is a tragedy for you, for the community, and for the art form. It’s a loss, but a loss that can be righted. You can reclaim your creativity and get that fire blazing bright again! It is possible, believe that. You just have to know some handy tricks to stoke that flame. So in the spirit of getting you back into the studio happily creating once more, in this 6-part series let’s explore these practical strategies for beating block and burnout!

Block vs Burnout

First we should know the nature of the beast, right? As such, these two states aren’t the same thing but are, in fact, quite different. Basically, a block is the artist’s equivalent of writer’s block. It’s when you want to create, but you’re at a loss — it just doesn’t come. The motivation is there, but inspiration just doesn’t strike, ideas have been exhausted, or some sort of blockage just prevents you from making the first creative move. Instead then, you may find yourself making excuses. “I don’t have time for this,” or “I have chores to do,” or “What’s happening on TikTok,” or “I’ll wait until inspiration hits,” or any number of other contrived reasons pepper what should’ve been heady enthusiasm to follow through.

It’s been said that artist block doesn’t actually exist — it’s a problem of blocking thoughts, not a physical thing. That’s it more like a kind of resistance, an obstructionist manifestation of the anxious mind. Quite literally then, it’s an instinctive reaction triggered by the amygdala, the primitive part of our brain, in response to problematic circumstances. In this, a block is like a self-generated barrier between your mind and your creative essence, and being creative, not expressing that creativity can be stressful, upsetting, even painful. The block simply disrupts that natural bond you have with your creativity, which is why it can make you feel so empty and lost.

Now it’s important to know that artistic block is a normal part of arting as it’s typically just a temporary state that can lead us to procrastinate a bit at times. It’s part of being human. However, if a block happens for longer than a day or two, the problem can be more serious. Indeed, for some a block can last for weeks, months, years — sometimes even a lifetime in the most tragic circumstances. Let’s not allow that to happen!

In contrast, burnout is simply a complete lack of desire to be creative at all, particularly in your chosen art form. Motivation and inspiration have simply dried up and you’re sitting there wondering why you’re even trying in the first place. It’s all pointless, right? It’s just not inspiring, interesting, or compelling whatsoever anymore. Just one big steaming plate of “meh.” Arting is now a miserable experience, soul-crushing or drudgery. Or maybe you think in hyperbole such as “all my art bites,” or “I’ll never be able to be as good as so-and-so.” Or if you’re spending more time thinking than doing, that’s probably burnout.

In short then, a block is a river with a dam and burnout is a dried up riverbed. Luckily for us, however, many of the strategies to break through a dam or replenish a river are very similar, working equally well for either situation. But first we probably need to understand how we got here in the first place to best get our waters flowin' again.

Typical Causes of Block or Burnout

The factors that cause either one can overlap, being somewhat similar, but each does have a slightly different set of provoking circumstances.

When it comes to a block, our unreasonable expectations and sense of perfection can be big ol’ bricks in that dam. Especially if we’re a professional, we come to believe that our work must meet, even exceed a certain standard or it’s trash. Every single time. But — wow — that’s one heckuva pressure pot to create in! Or perhaps we anticipate failure, real or not, or maybe external distractions are a problem. Likewise, it could be we’re living our art life with too much comparison to other works, as their perceived superiority is impeding our own desire to create. Chronic procrastination is a very clear symptom of block as we attempt to avoid what stresses us. Being too goal-oriented can bring on a block, when we should be more invested in the process. Never forget that the outcome is merely an incidental by-product of an engaged process! Then again, maybe we’re simply waiting for inspiration to strike like some miraculous revelation to get us into the creative flow. However, inspiration rarely works that way. It could be we lack the necessary technical skills and we know it, or we’re creating a cycle of self-doubt and negative self-talk. Are we just a lousy artist? Are we just not skilled or talented enough? Is my work even still relevant? Yikes. Or maybe we simply lack inspiration, or on the other hand, we have too many ideas and get overwhelmed. Stress can also be a component, as an unquiet mind often has a hard time hitting that necessary creative groove. A lack of self-confidence, self-esteem, and self-worth can contribute to block as does a fear of showing your work or talking about it. If you’ve lost faith in your creativity or have descended into creative chaos — not in the good way — chances are that’s a block. Fear of criticism, of negative feedback is another brick on that dam...a huge one. A lack of perseverance, consistency, and follow-though are as well. Another brick is a hesitation to explore, discover, and use your own unique Voice, trying to be an artist you aren’t. And finally, simply having too much on your plate, personally or professionally, can definitely provoke a struggle to make art at all.

But boil it all down and a block is essentially caused by fear — a crushing fear of failing, of not measuring up, of coming up short, of negative backblow. The very real fear of picking up tool or brush and hating what you just created. The frustration, the annoyance, the disillusionment, the begrudging acknowledgement of inferiority — we all fear those negative feelings that billow up when we believe we've faceplanted. Indeed, sometimes this fear can paralyze us, maybe even get us wistfully daydreaming about arting without actually doing it — for years. Those gleaming visions in our head can indeed become addictions but without follow-through, that's where they'll stay.

Now when it comes to burnout, that’s usually caused by exhaustion. Your gasket has blown, your tank has vapor-locked, and you’re just fried and tired. It’s a complex state of mental, emotional, creative, and sometimes even physical exhaustion caused by prolonged stress, usually from your own creativity, that inhibits your ability to create and thrive.

In artists, burnout often manifests as a depletion of art joy to be replaced by exasperation, disillusionment, a lack of motivation, feeling drained, overwhelmed, or anxious, difficulty concentrating or making decisions, creative stagnation, an inability to do basic creative tasks, and even a persistent physical fatigue. In extreme cases, it can lead to other physical symptoms such as insomnia and headaches, changed appetite, even panic attacks. This emotional toll can be so bad, you can feel detached from your work, your audience, even your own identity as a creative. As burnout gets worse, you can experience depersonalization where you develop a negative opinion of your art, your creative process, even of your audience, leading to a loss of optimism, purpose, and meaning which only compounds that exhaustion and apathy. In turn, the creative stasis that results can be devastating as your arting stops, motivation wanes, and even your inspiration evaporates, exacerbating the feelings of inadequacy, self-doubt, disillusionment, and frustration, creating a viscous cycle. Wrap it all up and burnout can quickly lead to depression, anxiety, and difficulty concentrating.

However, because the fever of creativity can fluctuate based on such factors as sleep and stress, creative burnout can fly under the radar and can also masquerade as procrastination, tiredness, distraction, or a lack of motivation. It can be found in a host of unhealthy negative comparisons, too, from the quality of others work to the volume of their output to the amount of “likes” they garner to the loftiness of their achievements. Likewise, unbalanced content consumption such as doomscrolling or endlessly bingewatching without creating work can be another symptom — it’s called avoidance. Irritability can also be a tell as creatives often become snippy when not doing their creative thing enough. And a pretty big symptom is self-doubt — a lot of it. You start blaming yourself, thinking you’re just not talented enough, your work is pointless, or that people just don’t care anyway — despite having produced quality work and earned praise in the past.

In essence, you’ve become detached from your art. Indeed, the relentless drive for creativity can come at a steep price — it’s a Faustian deal. Art is one of those curious pursuits where passion and dedication entwine into an alchemy that can either be an elixir or a poison depending on how it’s managed. Indeed, in few other professions do so many pressures intersect, and it’s critical we understand these pressures in order to mediate their longterm effects…

Production pressure: The world constantly demands innovation, novelty, and constant content creation and so artists are often swept up in this relentless cycle. The pressure to crank out new, innovative work, meet deadlines, complete commissions, and staying relevant and ahead of the curve can cause anxiety, chronic stress, and can be overwhelming. Indeed, this merciless pace can leave little space for reflection, rest, and incubation so necessary to cultivate and foster creativity. What’s more, many people in our genre apply a lot of pressure on artists to produce extraordinary quality relatively quickly, and as such, commission work can become a pressure pot for burnout if not managed ruthlessly.
Financial insecurity: The economic unpredictability of most artistic careers can be a major cause of stress and anxiety. Irregular paychecks, constant hustle for jobs and commissions, lack of benefits or vacation and a general uncertainty of the future can sharply compromise our sense of security, stability, and well-being. In turn, this insecurity can lead to overworking, compelling us to take on more work than is feasible, further increasing the probability of burnout.
Isolation: Being an artist is typically a solitary, sequestered pursuit which can generate feelings of disconnection and isolation if we aren’t careful. And unlike conventional workplaces, lone artists have to face creative setbacks and challenges on their own without the cushion of support, feedback, or encouragement, even humor of fellow employees. All of this can amplify detachment and self-doubt which can compound burnout further.
External validation: With social media and online platforms, artists are directly exposed to public scrutiny and judgment. This can quickly become a destructive cycle of chasing likes, shares, positive reviews, followers, and beating the algorithms which can then develop into a dependency of external validation for self-worth. This is an incredibly dangerous place for an artist to be by leaving them seriously vulnerable to criticism, ridicule, and rejection which can fuel burnout like gasoline on a fire.
Attention economy: The constant pressure to create work that grabs the attention of the gestalt and goes viral can cause a focus of quantity over quality at the sacrifice of artistic integrity and personal satisfaction and fulfillment, and all simply for a fleeting recognition. Or we can fruitlessly try to game the systems’ algorithms, often a losing and frustrating proposition, especially since social platforms are constantly changing the goalposts. As such, this can contribute heavily to burnout by feeding exhaustion, self-doubt, negative self-talk, and disillusionment.
Perfectionism: We often have a very strong drive for excellence, even absurd, unreasonable degrees of perfection as we seek to produce technically finessed work. This can make us too outcome-focused when it's the process we need to be immersed in. Wabi-sabi, baby! Because if we feel we’ve fallen short of our mark enough times, burnout isn’t far behind. Which brings us to…
Negative self-talk: We are our own worst critic, aren’t we? Our unceasing self-criticisms and unwillingness to accept imperfection can lead to frustration, disillusionment, dissatisfaction, self-doubt and, of course, eventual burnout. Chronically comparing our work to others doesn’t help matters whatsoever, either. “Comparison is the death of joy,” said Mark Twain. Absolutely right!
The very nature of arting: The mere act of being creative intertwines together our identity, psyche, and our art to further to blur the line between life and work, between passion and exhaustion, which can then spin quickly out of control without perspective, and that can also lead to burnout.
Too many obligations: Having too many events, responsibilities, distractions, chores, appointments, commission slots, or what have you scheduled on your calendar can be a terrible series of roadblocks that exhaust you even before you get to arting. Never forget that your energy is finite any given day so spend it wisely.
Hypersensitivity: Maybe we place too much of our energies on what people think of our work, and that puts far too much power into other people’s hands, doesn’t it? The only person you have to please with your art is — you! You’re the only important person in this equation! So work to your own satisfaction and no more. Leave the rest be. “I have already settled it for myself so flattery and criticism go down the same drain and I am quite free,” said Georgia O’Keefe. Yahtzee!

Add all this up and we have quite the petri dish for burnout, don’t we? In fact, when we step back and hard-look at the nature of our own art niche, it has all the factors that can almost guarantee burnout in its artists at some point in their careers, doesn’t it? No wonder so many of our artists have had it tease their toes or just outright devour them. Indeed, I know a few of our artists who have been so burned out by it, they stopped years ago and still don’t create pieces. Don’t let that be you!

Conclusion to Part I

So now that we’ve got a pulse on block and burnout, in Part II we’ll start our exploration of the many varied tactics we can use to get our gears gearin' again. The great thing about these strategies though is how simple most of them are, just requiring a little first step to initiate. But they all do require a first step on your part because it’s going to take a plucky, pro-active attitude to reclaim your creativity. But your art is worth it, right?

"Creativity lives in paradox: serious art is born from serious play."

— Julia Cameron

Lovely Locks: Painting A Sculpted Mane And Tail

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Mon, 18 May 2026 13:07:57 +0000

Introduction

Ever since the sculpted mane and tail gained prominence in the early 90s, we’ve been painting away on those lovely locks with a multitude of methods, all successful more or less. And new ways are evolving every year, such as the painterly streaked approach gaining popularity today.

But it’s not easy. In fact, all the different approaches are a testament to how tricky painting hair can be as many different interpretations attempt to make sense out of its very pesky texture and its passive physics. Because if hair is hard to sculpt, it’s even harder to paint convincingly, and it just looks like we’re all still trying to figure it out. I actually hope we never do only because all the different techniques are exciting and cool!

In that spirit then, I’d like to share with you my method. Maybe you’ll pick out aspects that are helpful or maybe get you going along a new route of exploration in your own work. Either which way, let’s get going!…

The Hairy Problem

Yes, hair. Hair hair hair hair hair. Uffdah. This is probably the most difficult texture and feature to sculpt, hands down, and definitely one of the most difficult to paint. All this is due primarily to its passive physics that are chaotic, which is very hard for the human brain to mimic, it's situational, which is prone to contrived regimentation by our pattern-loving brain, and it's highly detailed with all the striations, which are often nitpicky to render. Wrap it all up then, and we have ourselves a bit of a challenging pickle.

As such, some painters simply opt to let the sculpting do the work and paint the mane and tail one flat color, while others use drybrushing or airbrushing to add in soft, generalized striations or color shifts, while still others paint streak-by-streak, heavily shading and highlighting the beautiful folds and forms in a very painterly way…and everything in between all of this.

So to tackle hair, we have to understand exactly what it is, don’t we? To start then, the mane and tail are keratinized strands that are pigmented (with color) or unpigmented (white), depending on the presence of a marking or not. And while color genetics dictate the hair color, some grooming tactics bleach or color it for whatever reasons, so be mindful of that when picking references.

Hair also comes in different textures, often breed-dependent. For instance, Arabians tend to have super-fine, silky hair while drafters can have thicker, coarser hair. As a general tendency, the “hotter the blood,” the finer the hair, which applies to Arabians, Tekes, Marwaris, Kathiawaris, Persian Arabs, and other “thin-skinned” hot bloods. In contrast, the “colder the blood,” the tendency is towards coarser hair. There are exceptions, of course, but just pay attention to texture in field study and in references. What’s more, the tail hair tends to be coarser than the mane, which can be quite fine at times (and some feathers tend to be even finer, depending on the breed. For instance, Shire feathers are rather silky while Brabant feathers are coarser and Friesian feathers are kinda in-between).

Ultimately though, the main goal is to make the hair look like hair: Wispy, striated, complex in tone, shaded and highlighted, layered, and most of all, full of “organic chaos" dictated by passive physics. Always remember that hair has passive movement which can make its configurations truly something to tackle! Movement, posture, wind, and serendipity all have their effects on hair, all of which we have to capture. Zowie! It’s a lot to juggle, and often on rather tricky shapes and textures that have been sculpted in. Ooof. But with certain artistic approaches, this is all doable. For that then, it’s smart to refer to some good references when painting hair if only to jostle loose our brain’s propensity for regimentation caused by its pattern recognition response. Because it’s shockingly easy for our hand to fall too much into a rigid pattern when it comes to painting hair, ultimately reducing the look of organic chaos and leaning more into artificiality. Like the more regimentation kicks in, the more it looks like our hair was painted with a fork, or rather it has evenly spaced striations and tendrils.

For that then, always remember that the mane and tail are comprised of countless tiny strands that all work together to drive home the look of “mane” and “tail.” What’s more, they lay independently, but they also function together as tendrils and clumps, behavior that affects how we have to paint it, too. More still, they can bunch up into twists, "cords," or also “witch’s knots” (also called “fairy knots"), which are happenstance configurations that require special attention. On top of that, the hairs that lay on the top surface tend to be the most sensitive to breezes, but the tips often are as well.

As for coloration…goodness...the options! Lean into those references big time! Like, we have all the different different colors and tones, then we might have to factor in staining or sun bleaching, then we have the potential colorations of the different layers, then we have to factor in striations plus the interplay of colored hair or white hair if patterns are involved, and finally, we can infuse highlight and shading to punch it all up a notch. Put it altogether and the mane and tail can spin into a lot of complication very quickly. Phew!

We also have to account for volume as different breeds have different degrees of volume in their follicles. For example, Arabians, Tekes, and Marwaris tend towards less volume whereas Friesians, foofy cobs, Shetlands, Dartmoors, some drafters, and even some Morgans tend to have a profuse volume of hair. This affects how a piece is sculpted, and so how we paint it because we’ll have to contend with different textures, but also more or less hair to paint.

On that note, we also need to think in terms of layers much of the time, even if the mane and tail have been brushed out, de-clumping them. In this, different layers can exhibit different tones or coloration which we have to account for, or the different layers can move independently, creating more of an impression of wispiness. If we’re lucky, all this will have been sculpted in to the mane and tail, but if not, we can still fudge it if the formations permit it. For instance, the more generalized and “loose” the sculpting, the more likely we can add in this feature in a painterly way but the more detailed and “tight” the sculpting, the less able we are. In other words, we can allow the sculpting of the mane and tail guide our creative decisions.

But perhaps the biggest takeaway is this: We have to attend to scale as a prime directive, and so it’s important to understand that no brush, pencil, etching, nib, or other tool can actually recreate a single strand of hair even at 1:9 scale. Just think about how teensy tiny that single strand would have to be at that size and, well — we just don’t have the technology to duplicate that (yet). A single hair is just too tiny! So what we actually are painting are strands of hair, clumps of hair, working together to give us the look of wispy hair. This is an important distinction because it'll inform how we paint hair in more effective ways. In this, think instead about painting progressively finer tendrils of hair the more wispy we want to render it, more like this:

“Micro-tendrils”: A small clump of single strands into a skinny, wispy tendril. In other words, this is the skinniest stroke our brush, nib, or pencil can manage.
“Macro-tendrils”: Medium-sized clumps of hair that act independently of either the micro or mega tendrils, adding dimension and dynamism.
“Mega-tendrils”: The large tendrils that form the basic shapes of the mane and tail as it wisps out towards the ends, or the biggest swatches or "tentacles" of hair.

Of course, those are just generalizations to simplify the ideas as there’s a whole spectrum of everything in-between micro, macro, and mega tendrils. But even so, the main point is that these different types of tendrils behave differently than single strands, which we need to understand. For example, micro-tendrils are heavier than single strands but are the lightest of the three, and so are most prone to being flung round in a breeze. Then macro and mega tendrils are that much heavier and less prone to movement unless physics really warrants it. For another, tendril behavior changes whether brushed out or au naturel. Specifically, they’re more wispy and diffused when washed, de-tangled and brushed out, or they’re “sticker” together the more au naturel they are. That’s to say the more washed and brushed out they are, the more diffused the hues, tones, and white and pigmented hairs tend to be and the more micro-tendrils take over whereas the more “pasture” they are, the more they clump together into macro- and-mega-tendrils. And then there's everything in between due to all the varying circumstances. Pay attention to that in references as that can play into the narrative or movement of the sculpture. On that note, tendrils “stick together” randomly, or that’s to say that hairs of different colors, particularly pigmented hairs and white hairs, don’t segregate, but mix together, an effect we have to account for in our painting if we want to really capture the look of hair, particularly in braided hair. And finally, different degrees of fineness of hair will affect how it clumps and moves. For example, silky Arabian hair can be more prone to wispiness than drafter hair simply due to its finer texture. So overall, think in terms of skinny tendrils rather than skinny hairs, and we have a better chance at nailing the texture.

Now a concern particular to our art form is being adaptive to how the mane and tail are actually sculpted. Each sculptor tackles hair in their own way from either “looser” and more generalized to “tighter," more highly detailed and striated. Or some sculptors sculpt their hair in long continuous strands while others “break them up” more, and everything in between. This is to say, as painters, we're asked to adapt to how the sculpting is actually rendered because our primary job is to flatter the sculpture best, and that often means working with the sculpture rather than against it. This can make our job all the trickier, but this is exactly why having a big toolbox of techniques as options is so important. Indeed, one approach may not work for every sculpture so well, and being able to switch our gears a bit is just the ticket. In that spirit then, let’s get into it!…

Media

I paint my manes and tail in a multi-media approach because I find that each medium has its own bonus that contributes nicely to the overall effect. For that then, I use:

Acrylic paint: I like Golden Fluid Acrylics and Liquitex Soft Body acrylics.
Color pencils: I use Primscolor, Derwent, and Faber-Castell. A couple of notes about color pencils though. First, sealants tend to interact with them insofar as pale colors tend to vanish whereas golds, yellows, and ochres tend to become more garish, so color accordingly. Second, the Prismacolors are more waxy and so lay down more intense color but are prone to “bloom,” or cloudiness if applied too thickly. In contrast, the Derwents and Faber-Castells are less waxy and less prone to bloom, but lay down less intense color. So use them accordingly.
Pastel pencils: Primarily I use The General’s 4414 White Chalk pencil.
Conté pencils: I mostly use black, rusts, and browns.
Testor’s Dullcote: As a sealant to reinstill “tooth” and set the pencils before progressing to the next step. Just a light dusting will do, don’t soak the surface.

Tools

Likewise, I use specific tools to apply this media, such as:

Round brushes: In various sizes, these would have fine points and nice bellies to hold a good reservoir of paint so you don’t have to stop and re-dip your brush to break up a nice, clean continuous line.
Airbrush: I use the Iwata HPC-BS Eclipse, bottom feeder, my faithful workhorse.
Pencil sharpener: Use whichever sharpener gives you a fine point because that’s the trick to using the pencils, keeping a pointy point to avoid “chatter” and allow for precision.
Blender stick: I sometimes use these to burnish the color pencils—gently! If you’re not gentle, you’ll tear up your paintjob.
Pointed Q-tips: I use these to soften and “set back” the pastel and conté pencils. Just a couple of gentle swipes is enough otherwise you’ll blend all your work away.

Haired Out

So now that we have our media and tools, let’s use them! Now the way I paint my manes and tails is from generalized to detailed in a progression, with some back and forth at the end to make adjustments. Now I'm just going to show you a mane here, but all the ideas and techniques apply to tails and feathers, too. So here we go!…

First pick the lightest color, or the color of the tips, and paint where your reference indicates, flat and opaque. Be precise and tidy, especially if the tips lay on the body.
Then pick your darkest color, and paint where your reference suggests, flat and opaque. Again, be tidy and precise, especially if this color lays along the crest. For extra points, don’t paint a straight line along the crest, but paint in tiny spokes, or striations to make it look like it’s growing out naturally.
Next, pick your medium color and paint that where the reference tells you, again being tidy and blending into both the dark and light colors as streaks rather than blunt chunks. Keep things striated, "spikey," and “hair-like” as possible where the colors meet. Now you have a blank canvas ready for finessing. (Figure 1)
Now I take the airbrush and carefully paint in blending streaks to marry together the colors better in a softer, diffused manner. I have to be careful not to hit the body and ruin the paintjob though as I work to get in crevices or twists n' turns, so what I sometimes do, if warranted, is to bag the sculpture in a plastic grocery bag or Saran Wrap to mask it out first, or use painter’s tape to create closer masking. I’m pretty precise with the airbrush and I tend to stay away from the tips (which is why we painted our tips the lightest color), especially if they lay on the body, but I may do that masking off just in case if things are really complicated in coloration (then I clean up with acrylic brushwork later). Anyway, so once I’m done, I’m ready for detailing. (Figure 2)
Dust lightly with Dullcote and let dry.
Now I use conté (in this case in browns and rusts) and pastel pencils (in this case in white) to make strategic striations if the colors are warranted, softening with a pointed Q-tip in one downward gentle swipe to “set it back” more, so it doesn’t look penciled on. Just be sure to account for the flow and lay of the hair when penciling to stay consistent with the sculpting. You can even add in additional wispy details of micro-tendrils if you wish if the hair is sculpted generalized enough. When done, dust lightly with Dullcote and let dry. (Figure 3)
It’s color pencil time! I use color pencils a lot for coloring manes and tails and I use different colors for all the variegation, highlighting, and shading. I may augment this with acrylic brushwork if I don’t have the right color for what I need. Again, you need to adapt to the lay of the sculpted mane or tail, but you can add in wispy details of micro-tendrils if the sculpting allows it. As you layer these on, you may need to dust intermittently with Dullcote to reinstate “tooth" to the surface. Use the blender stick to burnish the pencils to set them back into the paintwork more, if you wish. Then once done, dust lightly with Dullcote and let dry. (Figure 4)
Then I added an airbrushed golden glaze to color the whites more flaxen. (Figure 5)
Now I make adjustments, using the airbrush to blend and soften and blur, especially the starts and ends of the pencilwork, and add on more painted-on or penciled-on striations to amplify punch, depth, and more detail as the sculpting warrants. Basically what we do here is to diffuse the pencilwork so it "sits back" into the paintwork rather than looking penciled "on top." (Figure 6)
When done, spray adequately with Dullcote and finito! You should have a beautifully colorized and wispy-looking mane and tail. (Figure 7)

Tips

There’s definitely a knack with this approach but these insights make it easier and produce better outcomes:

Practice! This approach definitely is done by "feel," so play around with it on a junker first.
The airbrush needs a lot of precision and skill to use it without blasting areas of your paintwork on the body. This is where bagging and masking can be helpful if you don’t have this degree of control yet, or if the tendrils lay en masse on the body. Or you could just lean into brushwork or pencilwork more in those areas instead, it’s up to you.
Color pencils, and the conté, and pastels in particular, can look artificial and “painted on top” if not set back into the paintwork with blending, especially with blurring their starts and ends. To do that, I lean into the airbrush to blend those portions into the surrounding areas, especially the color pencils, so it all marries together better. But without an airbrush, you can rely more on brushwork and more pencilwork to do that blur for you. Or you could add a layer of oils if you like, if that’s one of your chosen media. Either which way, if that pencilwork isn't "sat back" into the paintwork, it can compromise the illusion of touchable, wispy, silky hair pretty quickly. So don't just lay down the pencilwork and call it a day.
Pencils don’t always come in the colors you need, right? So just use paint and brushwork to fill that gap. Or another option is to rely on the white pastel pencil to create striations, spray with Dullcote to set it, then use the airbrush to tint the white to the color you need, and that can work like a charm, too. Then just continue with your pencilwork or brushwork as usual. But this is a nifty trick to add a lot of glow to your coloration as the white base really allows a tint to “pop.”
Keep those pencils sharp! You want to avoid imprecision, missed areas, or “chatter” and a pointy tip does that for you.
Work in layers as a lot of back n’ forth work with airbrushing and brushwork and pencilwork lends complexity, glow, and depth. In essence, we don't want to see how the hair was painted per se, just that it's nicely painted.
The white pastel pencil and white paint can be really helpful for adding wispy blending or detailing to unpigmented portions.
If there are white unpigmented sections, this is where understanding micro-, macro-, and mega-tendrils really come into play as it blends with the pigmented portions because the blending of the two really highlights striations. We have to recognize brushed-out or pasture-rough textures as well as that will change how we paint the intersections of white and pigmented hairs. In other words, if that hair is really brushed out, that intersection can be more diffused but if it's more au naturel, it can tend to be more sharply defined into tendrils. Either which way, you can use the white pastel pencil to input the white, or you can use paint, or use both, it's up to you. (Figure 8)
Always go with the flow of the sculpted hair, don’t fight it. However, you can add wispy detailing if you wish, as warranted.
Think about shading in the deepest crevices and highlight on the highest points, but don’t go too crazy with this as you also have to account for the hair’s actual coloration, too.
What’s more, your shade and highlight colors should change as the tones change in the different areas of the hair. In other words, don’t use that dark brown color you used in the rusty portions for the blonde portions. Mix up a new blonde-shading color instead. This will keep the colors clean and clear.
Paint like you mean it. In other words, your strokes should be bold and confident and not exhibit an imprecise, unsteady hand. Absolute clarity, cleanliness, and precision are key to a well-colorized mane and tail.
Try to avoid colorizing the mane and tail in “chunks,” but as striations that chunk together, if that makes sense. We don’t want the hair to resemble tentacles, but look like hair.
You can approach the mane and tail literally in their coloration or painterly with lots of shadings, highlights, and painterly striations. Either way — and everything in-between — works.
You can paint in a highlighted sheen to the hair if you wish with pencils, conté, pastel pencils, or brushwork.
If you do brushwork or pencilwork, you have to really commit to it. In other words, don’t just add a few striations and call it a day. That look’s too sparse and unfinished. Really dig in more thoroughly. It looks better and drives home the impression of hair better.
Brushwork and pencilwork allows you to really play with micro-tendril behavior, so have fun with it if the sculpting allows you to.
The real trick to this method it getting the pencilwork to not look like pencilwork, and the brushwork not to look like brushwork, and the airbrushwork not to look like airbrushwork. Like if we can immediately see how it was colorized because it’s so simplified in its application, we missed our mark. It should be complex enough to get folks wondering how we did it. That’s how finessed it should look.
All this works equally well on feathers, mustaches, or long body hair, too.
If you don't have an airbrush, oils are a good alternative choice for painting and glazing. If you don't use oils, try an acrylic drying retardant to give you more open time.
If you're working with a black mane and tail, you can still highlight and shade it with grey conté or color pencils, and/or with brushwork incorporating Interference Blue. You can even use the white pastel pencil if you glaze over it with blues or purples as a highlight, or rusts or browns to marry it with the body or for sunburnt coloration.
If you're painting a white mane and tail, again, you can still shade and highlight it with greys and greiges, and even consider tan or golden tips, especially on the tail, to denote staining.
The colors you choose for your color pencilwork makes a huge difference...they should be as spot on to your target colors as possible if you can manage it. In other words, don't try to always change the color with glazing (with the exception of the white pencils) unless you can't help it, but pick the right color right off the bat. This allows you to maintain as much of a hint of a striation as possible rather than having to cover it too much with paint trying to change its hue.
Layer layer layer! That's the secret to this method. So don't expect it to look good in one or two layers. For example, my finished product in Figure 7 was five layers of back and forth work.

Conclusion

Painting a lovely mane and tail does take some doing, but it’s all within our reach with a bit of know-how and practice. And there are many ways to get to a beautiful result, so this is just one of many methods that work equally well. But hopefully this tutorial gave you new ideas to play with, which is one of the benefits of sharing our methods.

Just be sure to practice a bit with this approach on a junker first as it takes a bit of finessing to get it all married together nicely. But above all, be patient and meticulous. This technique takes time to build up the layers and complexity for it to read well enough, so just work through each step carefully.

So practice, be meticulous and precise, blur and blend, and you’ll be creating gorgeous hair in no time! And this method can be a bit meditative, too, especially the pencilwork. And it’s so cool to see the layers stack on each other so nicely, bringing your hair to life right in front of you eyes! So take what you will from this tutorial and see if you can make it work for you, too. The truth is, this method, while a bit tricky, is also a ton of fun and so applying some of these ideas may help you get really haired out, but in a good way! Indeedy, painting this imposing texture isn't such a hairy proposition as it may first seem! With a bit of practice and know-how, you can be whipping up terrific tresses toot sweet!

“You see things; and you say, ‘Why?’ But I dream things that never were; and I say, ‘Why not’?” – George Bernard Shaw

The Gift: Bad Art And Why It Matters

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Fri, 01 May 2026 17:04:00 +0000

Introduction

As artists, we get inordinate pressure to create perfectly, both from external pressures and our own internal pressures. This pressure pot compels us to even twist ourselves up in knots, trying to create as perfectly as we possibly can. Which isn’t entirely all bad, of course. Hey, it’s propelled our arts to the pinnacle of achievement that it is today! But it’s not entirely good either, coming with a price, and one we perhaps should rethink paying, at least all the time. Because what if I told you that some of the most important works you’ll ever create are the “bad” ones?

I know, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But more times than you think, it’s true! So let’s talk about this curious phenomenon and why it matters for not only our development, but our enjoyment in our arting as well. Let’s go!…

Messy Progress

Our creative progress isn’t a straight line. It has detours, backwards steps, big leaps, loops around, and all manner of skill-building chaos. That’s the nature of learning art. Adding spice to this brew, progress can even come to us completely by accident, through experimentation or even complete failure. How ever it comes to us though, artistic development is a messy business so we need to leave our rigid expectations at the door and stay open to the happenstance lessons each piece presents.

But here’s the thing: Advancement can only really come if we’re willing to art badly. All breakthroughs come from discovery, intended or not, but that can only happen if we’re courageous enough to to push our skills forward. It’s in the ugly stages, the uncertain, messy phases, and often when we experiment and explore, and especially when we allow ourselves to get it “wrong,” that we stumble upon new possibilities. In short, progress requires risk so we can shove our habits, formulas, expectations, conventions, and perfectionism aside to test the potential of our techniques, media, and aesthetics. As such, we learn far more than method as we come to discover our creative resilience, rekindle our curiosity, and find more confidence in our own Voice. Heck, we may even find our Voice through this process as we lean more into our creative intuition and artistic guts.

So in this role, our bad art is actually the powerhouse that fuels our progress, not the catastrophic flaw that holds us back — but only if we’re paying attention to the lessons. So pay attention! Ask yourself “why?,” “how?,” and “what if?” more often rather than sinking into “I should just quit” despair. Indeed, more times than not, the moment you do quit is the moment you do fail! So unless a piece is a real loss (because sometimes that happens), keep going. Take stock, recalibrate, reassess, and try again. Always try again! Because it’s in the trying again where all our advancements are found so tap into that and you so totally got this!

Unexpected Outcomes

We often set out in our studios to create a piece with the “it” factor, the piece we hope will ignite people’s kudos and sell really well for us. So we may seek to fill empty niches or study market trends, hoping to avoid creating a piece that was a “bad idea” to make. But the funny thing is, the market is the market, collectors are collectors, and everyone is inspired by different things. So the piece that might be a “bad idea” to you may actually be a brilliant one to someone else en masse. That whole beauty and beholder thing. So artist — beware of your predictions! Create instead what original ideas inspire you and then just let the chips fall where they may. That’s more enjoyable for you, and who knows, it may really resonate with a lot of people out there! See, here's the thing: When we create according to our passions rather than a more analytical strategy, we create better and more exciting work that has a better chance at really pinging people's hearts.

How do I know this? Let me tell you the story of Stormwatch. I created Stormy based on a very powerful inspiration that came to me out of nowhere, complete with narrative backstory to boot. He was fully formed — I just had to make him. But as I sculpted him, I came to believe that he’d never sell. He was just too rugged and rangy, too “out there” in the narrative department. He wasn’t a performance horse and definitely not a conventional halter horse, so I expected people to just consider him ugly and unshowable. But I didn’t care, I created him anyway for my own satisfaction, and I was certainly pleased with how he turned out. However, I wasn’t going to release him as a resin. I was going to keep him as a one-of-a-kind. Why? Because I thought I’d be upside down with his sales and production costs. That I’d just lose too much money even making a mold for him. One thousand dollars for a mold with only a couple sold? Nope! But the Universe spoke through an unexpected conduit: My Mom. Indeed, it was my Mom who advocated for Stormwatch in resin, lobbying hard for his production. She was relentless. She somehow understood what Stormy encapsulated and even offered to pay for his production so I wouldn’t take the loss. I didn’t take her up on that offer, but I did listen to her wisdom, and the rest is history.

So the takeaway is this: Try not to presume what will trigger the community's delight. Not only can you go off-track with what type of work you create — creating for others rather than for yourself — but you can even deny the community of something amazing for little good reason. Don’t think your piece will be popular enough? By what metric do you measure that? So don’t overlook “bad ideas” because there could be a chance that “bad idea” is really a brilliant one! Indeed, many times, that “bad idea” has ended up being a masterpiece for many artists! So dial back those presumptions. Never forget, as Rick Rubin says, “the audience comes last.” Create for yourself first and let the chips fall where they may, without presumption. Who knows what the Universe has in store for your inspirations!

New Growth

If you're going to grow in your skills or bump yourself off an artistic plateau, you have to try new ideas and new ways of doing things. Doubling down on your same old routines, habits, techniques, and formulas won't help you here. They're what got you stuck in the first place, right? So if you don't like what you're producing, you have to change what you're doing. This usually translates into exploring new media, methods, aesthetics, and ideas to jostle your skills loose of the shackles that hold them back. To do that though, you have to be willing to be terrible at something before you get good at it. That's to say, you have to be willing to make very "bad" art before you make new and better art.

Now granted, this is often easier said than done! It's not so easy to switch our gears, especially when our old modes garnered us a degree of success. It can be really hard to let go of our comfort zones. It can even be intimidating and scary! But if you really want to advance, you have to be willing to shed what's obsolete or outdated, and actively cultivate new artistic growth with fresh new approaches. And — yes — you're probably going to make a lot of "bad" art again with these new methods, with a lot of mistakes and missteps as you kinda start over. But this is normal and expected, so muscle through it and absorb the lessons because the prize at the end is a whole new horizon for you!

For instance, after thirty years of steadfastly (stubbornly?) using acrylics to paint, I took some classes and recently switched to oils. Was it daunting? You bet. Was it overwhelming? At times. Did I make bad mistakes? Oh, absolutely! Was it worth it? Monumentally! In fact, I can't believe it took me so long to switch to oils! Because even more, it's been an absolute blast learning as a newb again! Unquestionably, that newb energy is such a wonderful thing, even if you've been at this gig for decades. It imbues a fresh, exciting, wide-eyed energy which you may have forgotten with all your years of experience, so to feel it again is so artistically invigorating! So I took a big gulp and dedicated myself to making "bad" oil paint jobs with the hopeful promise that improvement would surely come with repetition and problem-solving. But had I not been willing to go back to a new starting point to learn something new from scratch — with all the "bad" art that entailed — I would never be in the happy painting place I am now!

Pressure Release

I frequent a paint n’ sip simply to get out of my head for two hours while still being creative. It’s not my best art, not by a long shot. It’s full of errors, quick brushstrokes, and wonky touches. But that’s not the point. The point is it acts as both a pressure valve and a means to explore another kind of creativity — in this case flatwork — with zero pressure and zero expectations. It’s just fun! Silly, irreverent, low-key fun! Perfection? Not today! And all that's immensely freeing and recalibrating, which swings back to inform my regular work. Honestly, I’ve gotten better at my equine art because of these paint n’ sip sessions by loosening up my sensibilities, pushing the expectations of myself, appreciating happy accidents and serendipities more, and asking for a greater economy of action and decision. Curiously, my newly found oil painting mania has been particularly benefitted from these sessions because oil paints work very differently than my familiar acrylics, and in ways that are more aligned to the paint ’n sip methods. You have to ping value, color, and brushwork, for example, things absolutely critical for oil paintwork. Honestly, you just never know how one artform will inform another!

In other words, the "bad" art of my paint n’ sip work has improved my work across the board, so again, dial back those presumptions! Arting is arting. So that also means that just about any art class could be an unexpected boon for your equine art. Flatwork, beading, glass blowing, watercolors, knitting, quilting, basketweaving…whatevs! Who knows? Really, you just never know what lessons you'll learn that you can apply in your studio! The important bit then is to follow your curiosities and inspirations — no matter where they lead — and see what pans out. So maybe give it a try just to see what could happen! "Bad" art can improve your good art into great art!

Perfection

This is the truth of things: Perfection doesn't exist. It's an illusion, a delusion, a myth, and a lie. Nothing ever made ever is perfect because we live in an imperfect reality. No one ever has created perfect work nor will perfect work ever be made. It's impossible. Why is that? Because even if something looks perfect to you, someone else will perceive errors in it, and visa versa. So by this measure of ardent perfectionism, all art is "bad" art, right? All of it's a failure because it's all intrinsically imperfect. "Inevitability, Mr. Anderson," said Agent Smith. But that's a dangerous, destructive, and delusional headspace to create from. Why? Because it'll compel you to spin your wheels and veer into overworking, two ways that'll ruin your work faster than anything else. It'll also stunt your growth so effectively because you're too busy perfecting a piece when you should be finishing it and moving onto new lessons. Indeed, when we quit with the perfectionism to instead adopt the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, not only does our creative journey become a lot more wonderful, but somehow so does our work. This is largely because in doing so, we open our process up to the happy accident more, we create more with our artistic intuition and guts, and we allow that mysterious channel to remain open to allow our inspiration to truly manifest through our hands unimpeded by our egos, mania, fears, negative self-talk, and wonky ideas about what is "perfect" and what isn't as we go. As such, wabi-sabi is the surest path to our best work and our Voice, and it's through our pure Voice where actual, gleaming perfection is to be found, not in the "perfect" line, contour, tone, or toolstrike. That is to say when we create honestly and authentically, that makes our work perfect by definition as it turns out exactly as it was meant to turn out. But when we muddy that up with perfectionism, we poison our process and compromise our Voice, which is why the work of self-proclaimed perfectionists is so often "dead" and overworked, lacking the liveliness and boldness that only comes with Voiceful work. And, likewise, if we truly want to advance our growth exponentially, we've got to dump perfectionism to become more focused on open-minded intent, risk-taking, problem-solving, perseverance, and a willingness to make mistakes. None of that can come though when perfectionism rules the day. You see, perfectionism is simply too rooted in fear and insecurity. In other words, it's not a position of power or empowerment — it's a position of weakness. And when fear intermixes with our creative efforts, there goes our true potential out the window.

So if you call yourself a perfectionist, what you're really telling the world is that you truly don't have a handle on things, that you really don't understand arting. Be careful with that. What you can do instead is to improve your work by creating the best you can at that moment, stretching your sensibilities and skills for that brass ring and persevering through the setbacks, yet know when to call "done" and move on. Because you'll never create perfectly, that's a sure thing. Don't become a Don Quixote chasing those windmills! "Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence," said Vince Lombardi. Bingo. "Have no fear of perfection, you'll never reach it," said Salvador Dali. Spot on. So the point isn't to create perfectly, the point is to stretch yourself to create more boldly and openly than you did before. Start asking "what if" with each new piece rather than beating yourself up with "I must create this perfectly or I will have failed." Great work is the product of devotion, not delusion.

Our Humanity

Here’s the beautiful thing about art: Every piece of art is a miracle, “good” or “bad.” It showcases a moment when a frail, flawed, inspired human being was courageous enough to become vulnerable to the entire world by pulling out of the ether something that’s never existed before. It’s also a very human need to make a connection with others and to seek expression of the self. As Brené Brown observes, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity. To create is to make something that has never existed before. There's nothing more vulnerable than that.” This is always a marvel, a pure representation of our humanity whether or not the art is “good.” In fact, in some ways, it’s in the “bad” art where our humanity is most potent because our drives are so strong, they override our fears to try something new or scary. How wonderful is that? Indeed, “bad” art is a noble pursuit! It builds our gumption and character, revealing moments of enlightenment not only in technique but within ourselves as well. Indeed, it’s in the “bad” art where our progress is to be found, personally and artistically, and this is always something to celebrate!

So don’t knock your "bad" art! Don’t trash talk your mistakes! And definitely don’t indulge negative self-talk because of them. These oopsies are exactly the pathways for improvement, so follow them to their kernel of truth. And above all, always remember how human making art actually is, what a beautiful calling! You are doing something miraculous so always hold that close to your heart, giving yourself grace no matter how your art pans out.

Conclusion

Is there really such a thing as “bad art”? Perhaps not. I believe if it was made with love and emotion, our humanity that yearns for connection, there’s just art…it’s neither good nor bad. Art is art. Why? Because everyone interprets any given piece on their own terms so what may be awful to one person may be brilliant to another. Who’s to say? That’s the wondrous thing about art — it’s everything to everyone, all the time! Indeed, as Andy Warhol advised, “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.” Right on!

The point though is this: The first person who should love your piece is you. If we fall in love with what we’re working on, even in small part, we’re doing it right. So even if it’s “bad,” we love it all the same. For example, many of my old Vintage Customs could make me cringe, but they don’t. Instead, I recognize them as milestones in my development, made with love and devotion, necessary stepping stones to where I am today. Truly, I love each and every one of them, no matter how wonky some may be. Even better, I know that each of them is loved by someone who enjoys them, that they’ve pinged someone’s heart, and what better reward is there than that? And like the maquettes I make for my oil painting adventures — they’re far from the meticulous customs I made years ago, full of deliberate oversights and little errors. But I don’t care, I love them all the same because I enjoyed their making, their lessons, and the overall result. I created them for myself, for my own enjoyable learning adventures so even though they’re “bad” in comparison to say Orinocco, Trillium, or Sorcha, they’re still good because of what they mean to me. Really, it’s like the macaroni necklace your child made for you — is that not the best thing ever?!

Wrap it all up, and making “bad” art can be very good for you and wholly productive for your ultimate goals. See, the thing is, everything creative you undertake informs you in some way, so the more creative you are — in any direction — the more informed you become and that bodes great things in your studio! But the important bit is to embrace your art — all of it — because each piece is a pure expression of your humanity and deserving of your self-congratulations, even if its a faceplant — especially if it’s a faceplant. Yes, you made that, but that’s just the point — you made something that’s brand new, practicing all the great stuff to make it real in the process. That's such a beautiful, noble endeavor! So just get up, dust yourself off, learn the lesson, and try again, and maybe delightfully surprise yourself along the way! “Bad” art is actually really good magic so don’t knock it!

So reframe your "bad" art in these new ways and you begin to recognize what a gift it is from the Universe. That being the case, learning to love your “bad” art imbues you with a true freedom and agency available to you no other way, and there are few things that’ll not only bump up your art a notch better than that, but primes you for sustained growth to boot! Truly, you gain a fresh new confidence and courage to pivot, adapt, and stretch that only your “bad” art teaches and that spells one thing in your studio: Better work, increased motivation, and broader horizons! In this way then, your “bad” art is the pathway to great art and greater creative adventures so follow it wherever it leads. Do that and who knows what you’ll find on your journey of discovery, what unexpected gem of insight waits for you! But the only way to find it is through your “bad” art, your surprising gift meant only for you! Open it!

"Art is not made to be received. It is made to be made. There is no bad art, it just is."

— Unknown

Happy Hoofdom: Painting The Equine Hoof

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Tue, 14 Apr 2026 11:08:00 +0000

Introduction

The equine foot is a marvel of bioengineering. Refined through millions of years of relentless evolution, it’s singular in its construction and function. There’s just nothing else like it out there! And when you brass tacks it, they sure are beautiful, aren’t they? So many variations, and all those effects and that lustrous look, they're definitely a wonder of the natural world! Yet when it comes to painting them on our sculptures, they can be a serious challenge in part because of all those colorations and details in a tight space, but also because we have to continuously paint “in the round,” a rather tricky thing to master. For this reason, some folks really dislike painting them, and for good reason. They can be frustrating, tedious, complicated, and seemingly never-ending, trying to get them just so. But in the spirit of making our painting lives more fun, let’s discuss how I paint hooves in the hopes that some of it might help make things easier and faster for you. I think when we share our processes, we all win!

Now the way I paint hooves rests on one thing: Pinging the correct colors and tones so that it reads correctly. In other words, I don't rely on multi-media or different techniques...it's all done in acrylic paint with round brushes (with maybe a filbert thrown in at times). But it's the correct colors that really lean things towards realism, and lemme tell ya...those colors can be surprising when it comes to hooves. So keep an open mind about what colors to use and really pay attention to your references. Dark hooves aren't white and black grey, and pale hooves aren't as simple as they may seem! And every hoof is different, so pay attention to variety. More still, we also have to factor in scale and details, which we'll talk about as we go. So let’s dive right in!…

The Considerations

Okay…hooves are particularly tricky due to their construction. That’s to say, their keratinized layers have a certain look to them, a kind of transparency and “glow” unique to this kind of substance. You know, like how cow horns have a sort of luster to them? Well, so do horse hooves, particularly pale ones. And if we can, our aim is to capture that luster in pigment.

What’s more, any striations or especially stripes within the hoof wall have a kind of “embedded bruise” look to them we need to try and capture, too, because they’re part of the hoof wall, not “painted on top.” This is probably the hardest aspect to duplicate and so far, I’ve found that the careful use of color and tone comes really close. Still not quite a cigar, but close.

So this is where layering comes in, to better ping that embedded look even more. We’ll be working in successive layers, not all in one go, because we want to capture as much texture and detail as we can, but in an orderly way so we don’t end up with a haphazard, confusing mess. As much detail as hooves have, they do have an organic order to them we should capture.

Complicating all this though are life relics like dirt, dust, mud, manure, and grass or nail staining. They lend their own colorations and effects, as well as being situational details that can speak to the narrative of the piece. So pay them special attention because they can provide just the right detailing to forward the story of the piece. For instance, show-polished hooves make little sense on a pasture broodmare whereas pasture hooves don’t really fit a halter show horse. So we also need to keep the situational context of the narrative in mind as we paint.

On that note, we have to consider grooming practices, even breed-specific grooming conventions, when we paint our hooves. Like some breeds still black-out dark hooves with black hoof polish and then use clear polish on pale hooves. In the past, many breeds blacked out all the hooves, even pale ones. But generally speaking, most show horses, especially for halter classes, have their hooves scrubbed, even sanded, then polished in some fashion, so pay attention to that in references and at horse shows.

Speaking of which, perhaps the piece’s narrative or sculpting includes cracks, breaks, rounded toes, and other wear and tear on the hoof wall we have to detail out as well. Horses don’t live in a reality vacuum! And so at some point, we’ll be painting a piece with hooves that show wear that needs our attention, too.

Along with all this, we also have the periople to deal with, that flakey pale substance underneath the coronet on both dark and pale hooves. Sometimes this is scrubbed or sanded off a show hoof, sometimes not. And sometimes it’s quite pronounced or extensive on some horses and on others, it’s rudimentary and more subtle. Either way with all this, just look for it in your references in order to give it its due attention in your paintwork.

What’s more, the equine hoof isn’t just the hoof wall, but also the posterior portion of the foot proper, such as the back of the frog and the heel, both made of cornified material with its own texture and colorations. So we have to paint this portion as well which has its own approach, too.

And lastly, shoes and nails are another feature we might have to contend with, but for the scope of this discussion, I’m omitting them so we can focus more on the hoof painting itself. Likewise, we won’t be dealing with painting the bottom of the foot like the sole and frog and whatnot, but focus instead just on the hoof wall and posterior foot. That’s plenty to deal with in one go and we can attend to the distal foot in another tutorial.

But put all this together then and it’s easy to see how painting hooves can get really complicated really fast, and all in a small area! No wonder so many folks struggle painting them — it’s a lot to juggle in a tight space and "in the round"!

Lean Into References

You’re going to need some really good, clear, large references of the specific hoof you wish to paint in order to come anywhere near success. So when you take your reference photos or mine them, look for plenty of hoof ones, too, of pale, dark, and striped hooves (and shod, muddy, dusty, pasture, cracked, barefoot, and all manner of hooves). But to prevent yourself from getting overwhelmed with all the options — because there are a lot of options — work from one or two good photos of either a dark hoof, striped hoof, or pale hoof as per your needs, and build variation off those. What you want are ideas and guidance, not necessarily a 1:1 translation. Why? Because if you use too many references for one hoof, you’re just going to get overwhelmed and confused, so keep it clear and on point by sticking to just a couple solid images per foot.

Also, each horse or pony has a unique set of hoofies so don’t always apply the same type of hoof on all the feet or on all your paintjobs. Mix it up! Besides, this makes it more fun by being able to explore more options and challenges.

The Media and Tools

The media you use is ultimately up to you. Like some folks paint hooves entirely in oils, which works great, some paint them with inks, which works great, while still others paint them completely in pastels, which works great. Color pencils can even be used. It all works as there are many ways to tackle this! For this tutorial though, I'll be working in acrylic paint thinned with water for simplicity, working mostly in washes and "wet." It's a bit tricky, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes really quite fun! So follow along and maybe you’ll pick out an idea or two you can integrate into your existing method.

For that then, here’s the media I’ll be using for these tutorials:

Acrylic paint (Liquitex Soft Body and Golden Fluid Acrylics)
Liquitex Gloss Medium
Sealant (Dullcote)

For paint colors, I tend to lean into these hues:

Blacks (either warm Mars Black, cool Ivory Black, or neutral Carbon Black)
Titanium White
Burnt Umber
Raw Umber
Van Dyke Brown Hue
Burnt Sienna
Raw Sienna
Payne's Grey
Yellow Oxide
French Grey
Parchment
Burgundy
French Ultramarine Blue
Prussian Blue
Brilliant Blue

For tools, I’ll be using:

A small 10/0 round with a perfect point and longish belly to hold a good reservoir of paint.
A #2 round to paint on the basecoat onto the hoof.
A #2 or #4 filbert on occasion.

For the acrylic paint, you can use a drying retardant if you wish, it’s up to you. I don’t because I’m impatient. Doh! So I use water to thin the paint for washes and working wet. As such, I’ll be approaching the coloration of each hoof with handpainting, too, and not with an airbrush, making these techniques accessible to everyone. But know that you can use an airbrush if you wish for certain buffed and blended effects if you have sufficient control of it. Also consider drybrushing for some glow-y, buffed coloration as that can also amplify that luster we want to capture.

Now for this tutorial, I’ll be painting a basic dark hoof, a basic pale hoof, and basic striping for simplicity's sake. They’ll just be a good baseline for you to develop variations and more advanced details and degrees of realism as needed. I just want to provide a beginner springboard for you. Plus adding in dusty, stained, or muddy effects are their own tutorial which I’ll leave for another time. Let’s just deal with the basic techniques and ideas for a common clean hoof then we can build off of that later.

How To Paint Dark Hooves

Just because they’re dark doesn’t make them any easier to paint! In some ways, they can be harder because their luster is that much more difficult to capture in dark pigment. Many dark hooves also have some variegation that can complicate matters, but if we nail it, it produces such a cool result! So here’s where color use and layering will be particularly handy, so painting a dark hoof is just as much a process as painting a pale hoof. So, to do that, consider this sequence:

Colors used: Liquitex Soft Body Parchment, Raw Sienna, Burnt Umber and Golden Fluid Acrylics Carbon Black.
Pick the medium color your reference indicates and paint the entire hoof wall that color. Let dry. (Figure 1)
Pick the darkest color your reference indicates and smear that onto where it needs to be (usually along ground level). Then pick the lightest color your reference indicates (not the periople) and apply that where it needs to be (sometimes towards the coronet). (Figure 2)
Make a pale greenish greige and add in some light vertical striations around the hoof wall, making sure they parallel the hoof wall angle at the toe. (Figure 3)
Do the same, but with some dark greenish greige. (Figure 4)
Then mix up more light greige and paint on some horizontal striations. It's about building layers to create complexity, depth, and luster. (Figure 5)
Add in some tan, brown, golden grey, or whatever additional color your reference indicates to mix up the tones, in horizontal and vertical striations, (Figure 6)
Now paint on the periople under the coronet in a light grey. (Figure 7)
Then add some darker shadings along the hoof rim to add dimension. (Figure 8)
Don't forget to paint in the back of the frog and heels. And whoo hoo...you're done! (Figure 9)
If you want to gloss the hoof, use the Liquitex Gloss Medium in a light layer to polish the hoof. Let dry. Add another coat if you want it more glossy. (Figure 10)
Work from good references as dark hooves have a lot of variety.

How To Paint Pale Hooves

Now pale hooves definitely have a very clear luster to them and also they tend to have a lot of variation from being super detailed with striations to being more monochromatic, so pay attention to references. The one thing you do want to avoid though are discreet rust-colored smears as that indicates bruising. Bruising is pretty common in the domestic population, so be mindful of that in your references and so in your paintwork.

Now the convention in the past had us all painting the palest tones along the coronet to darken towards the ground, but the truth is there’s a whole lot more to it than that as any pile of pale hoof references shows us. So dump convention and lean into your reference and paint more what you see rather than what you think you’re supposed to paint. Conventions are meant to be baselines anyway, a place to start rather than an end unto itself. So forget about what you’ve heard — just paint what you see in your reference.

But as a starting point for your own explorations, here's a basic process to paint a pale hoof:

Colors used: Liquitex Soft Body Parchment, Burnt Sienna, Raw Sienna, Burnt Umber, and Golden Fluid Acrylics Titanium White.
Pick the medium tone of your pale hoof and paint the entire hoof that color. Let dry. (Figure 11)
Make a rusty-golden color and make horizontal striations along the lower portion of the hoof wall. (Figure 12)
Add rustier vertical striations around the hoof wall. (Figure 13)
Darken that rusty color to make it more brownish then paint some horizontal and vertical striations. (Figure 14)
Then go back over that with some pale shell color in vertical and horizontal striations to lend dimension and complexity. (Figure 15)
Then lighten the rim of the hoof with some lighter striations while amplifying the rusty color in the middle of the hoof wall. (Figure 16)
Make all your adjustments then add the periople along the coronet. (Figure 17)
Be sure to paint the back of the foot, and done! (Figure 18)
Use good references for pale hooves because they have a lot of variety in how they look.

How To Paint Stripes

Now the thing to understand about hoof stripes is that they’re made of pigmented hoof tubules embedded in the hoof wall. In other words, they are the hoof wall, inside the hoof wall, not sitting on top. But the problem is that when we paint, we paint them “on top” by the very nature of the painting method, right? Doh! So to mimic the look of being embedded, we use color and tone to make it all look like they're in the hoof wall more. In this, I use muted colors and layering to capture what I can. Indeed, the hue you choose is critical for the right effect! Even so, this method isn't perfect — but our work will never be perfect — but it gets the point across pretty well.

Even more importantly though, hoof striping needs to follow the angle of the hoof wall at the toe in all situations otherwise that could indicate a pathological foot with crunched hoof tubules. For example, collapsed heels, a common fault in domestic hooves, will have heel tubules projecting more forwards than those at the toe, and we need to avoid that. In other words, striping can’t be applied all willy-nilly but has to fit inside a very specific parameter to be correct. This just takes practice and a refined Eye in order to paint with the hoof angle, so be sure to practice on a junker to master it. This also goes for any variegations in the hoof, as they have to parallel the hoof wall angle at the toe as well.

Another thing to account for with striping is rasping insofar as this practice can make the stripe end before it hits ground level, about one-quarter up the way of the hoof wall, which is a nifty detail to add if appropriate for the narrative like if the sculpture has shoes. Likewise, barefoot often have stripes that end about one-quarter inch above the ground due to wear and tear, like the rounding of the toe and hoof rim, another nice realistic detail to add if the sculpture has barefeet.

Stripes also aren't always perfect, discreet bands of dark pigment, but can be jagged, notched, sheared, or buffed, so really lean into those references. Indeed, hoof striping is a lot more organic and chaotic than our painting conventions recognize.

Stripes also come in a variety of colors from blueish grey to charcoal to brown to chocolate to greige and everything in-between, even on the same hoof. So approach striping individually and really refer to your references, making each hoof different to max out realism. Some stripes even have a brownish halo on either side of them as they blend out into the pale portion, so look for those tonal differences, too.

As for actually painting the stripes, I find that painting them after I've painted the pale hoof works best for me. I just find it easier focusing on one job at a time when working in acrylics. Nevertheless, it's still a real challenge to add convincing stripes, so brace yourself! To start then, think about painting a stripe this way:

Paint your pale hoof as you like. Let dry.
Make a bluish-charcoal-greige wash and block in the stripe lightly, diffusing away from ground level to denote wear and tear. (Figure 19)
Make a pale bluish grey wash and use that to paint in horizontal and vertical striations within the stripe. (Figure 20)
Go back in with bluish charcoals and bluish greiges and make adjustments between the darks and lights until you're happy with the result...then done! (Figure 21)
Gloss with Liquitex Gloss Medium. (Figure 22)

How To Paint The Posterior Foot

The back of the frog and heel are important features for hoof painting, too — don’t ignore them! They need precision and coloration as well to really read properly, so to that end, think about painting them thusly:

Paint the entire area a dark tannish-charcoal. Let dry.
Paint in the back of the heel in the corresponding tones indicated by your reference, usually in tans, light greys, browns, and even greens for grass or manure staining. Let dry.
Use the small round to paint in dark triangles for the clefts and a light color for highlights as needed. (Figure 9 and Figure 18, above)

Tips

There are some little insights that help us achieve a better result, such as the following:

Think about using washes to tint and set features “back into the hoof” more to add dimension and luster. It can be a highly effective way to achieve the luster and dimensionality hooves have.
Drybrushing can also be very useful for smudging colors on and helping to create luster and glow, especially on pale hooves.
Consider using a color sampler tool in a photo editing program to color sample your references before painting to get a better grasp of the color families you’ll be working with. It can be surprising! Indeed, greenish-greys and browns can factor into dark hooves a lot more than you may realize. Dark hooves aren’t necessarily black and white! To help that along, for example, I like to use the Liquitex Parchment which is a greenish-greige white and also mix Raw Sienna and Carbon Black together for a green tone.
Layer layer layer! That really helps to add complexity, glow, embedded-ness, and luster to your hooves.
Consider scale when painting hooves because most of the time, the more the scale shrinks, the less detail we can pack in there or things spin out-of-scale pretty quickly. In this case of smaller scales, mimicking the look of things rather than painting them literally can be the real trick to realism.
Your hoof-painting brush should have a hyper-fine perfect point with enough bristle to hold a good well of paint so you don’t have to stop and re-dip often and break your line or momentum.
Actively avoid too much regimentation and seek “organic chaos” with your hoof painting. Yes, there is a kind of pattern, but break it up strategically to look more grown than painted. This is especially so with discolorations, striations, and striping.
When it comes to striping, be sure you’re working from the same coat color and marking as your reference. That’s to say, striping can be very conditional when it comes to color and markings, so make sure you’re being accurate with them. For instance, on many colors the presence of an ermine spot creates a stripe, but on others like some appaloosas and silver dapples, stripes just happen. And stripes don’t have to match up perfectly with ermine spots either. Indeed, a small ermine spot can create an enormous stripe! So study lots of references to develop a mental library of the possibilities.
The striations are one of the hardest things to get on there without going out of scale or without picking the wrong color, so play close attention to them with a fine-pointed brush and target the right hues.
The vertical striations must follow the angle of the hoof wall at the toe, around the entirety of the hoof otherwise you'll be painting randomized hoof tubules, which is a serious fault.
Detailing doesn’t necessarily have to be in the same family of color as the hoof color. That’s to say that pale hooves don’t always have rusty brown striations, but they can also be griege, charcoal, copper, or chocolate, for example. Likewise, dark hooves can have tan, golden, griege, even greenish striations rather than always grey. So think outside of the box of your own expectations and really study your reference with a more objective Eye.
Study a lot of real hooves in photos and in person to develop a better idea of all the variations and options you can paint.

Conclusion

Painting a great set of hooves takes a lot of practice, patience, time, and diligence. So take your time and don’t skimp! And take plenty of breaks because — trust me — it can get tedious. And practice, practice, practice! It’s a numbers game so the more hooves you paint up, the easier it gets. You also develop more of a mental library you can mine but just be sure to really rely on good references to guide you most of all. And remember, use references that are specific to the type of hoof you need to paint, and use different references for each piece to avoid formula and homogeneity.

Another big priority is to stay in scale with all the detailing such as striations and whatnot. Keep things as skinny and little as possible. Remember, those hoof tubules are tiny! And never forget to keep those stripes and variegations parallel to the angle of the hoof wall — that’s super important.

Hooves are certainly a major challenge, yes, so most of all, don’t be so hard on yourself. Above all else, be patient with yourself! Even the very skilled among us still struggle with hooves even after decades of skill-building. The good news is though, once you get a knack for it, it actually becomes a lot of fun in its way, especially if you explore the fuller expression of hoofdom by using different references for each piece rather than falling back into habit all the time. There really is so much variety with hooves, so seek to explore it! Each hoof is different, so don’t be afraid to break with convention, especially your own. Lean into those references and try to paint what you See, not what you’re told to see, especially by yourself. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” wrote Shakespeare. So true, especially when it comes to Nature’s multitude of biological and situational options.

Now it should be mentioned that the painted examples in this tutorial were just the basic, most conventional hooves to paint. They're our stereotypical hooves. However, Nature is rarely stereotypical! Each set of hooves is different and even each hoof is different, so avoid habit and formula, and really lean into your references. So don't think your painted hooves have to look like those I painted in this post. Instead, they should resemble life and your references. I simply presented techniques and ideas about details to look for, nothing more. Indeed, Nature is a wonder to behold when it comes to hoof variation, effects, and details, so explore it!

Any which way, with a bit of gumption, perseverance, skill-building, and improved Sight, you too can be popping beautiful hooves onto your pieces in pigment in no time! Painting the hoof doesn’t have to be a dreadful chore, but a challenging and compelling exploration of variety and effect, potentially pushing your creative boundaries into new methods and media and ways of Seeing. The truth is, once you unlock the skills to paint happy hoofdom nicely, you’ll have essentially tapped into a huge well of potential to paint just about anything else well, too. So give it its due, show yourself some grace, and get in that studio and literally put your best foot forward! You got this, hooves down!

“The artist is not a different kind of person, but every person is a different kind of artist.”

— Eric Gill

Let's Do An Experiment!: Sculpture-Painting The Equine Eye

noreply@blogger.com (SARAH MINKIEWICZ-BREUNIG) — Thu, 09 Apr 2026 00:08:00 +0000

Introduction

Truth be told, I’ve never been fully satisfied with how I’ve been painting eyes on various sculptures. Not even the very best of my painted eyes could actually capture how they truly look like in life, could they? I mean, you look at them from the front and, well...not quite, right? Now yes, I'm doing the best I can with what I’ve been handed: A complete “in the round” sculpture. The problem is, I'm operating within a flawed paradigm from the onset!

But not today! Because to this end, I’ve always wanted to do an experiment: To render the equine eye as anatomically accurate as it’s structured in life as I can, into the sculpture and the paintwork. This would necessitate a very different sculpting of the eye and subsequent treatment in paintwork and glossing, but it’s an idea that’s been tickling my toes for years. And well, the only way around it is through it, right? So let’s do an experiment! Let’s finally put my percolating idea to the test to see if it actually renders an equine eye more anatomically accurate and so more realistic in person! Let’s go!…

The Dilemma

Here’s the fundamental problem: Through the past to today, we’ve had to paint on top of a rounded sculpted eye, right? But the problem is, that’s not actually how the equine eye is anatomically constructed. Anatomically, the iris is more flattish, not rounded, so the pupil isn’t sitting on the outside of the orb, but inside the contour of the orb. Instead then, it’s the cornea and the aqueous chamber that form the rounded aspect of the orb over the iris, not the iris and pupil.

The Hypothesis

So how do we get around this problem? Well, we shave down the rounded eye to be more flat in the iris area, and we paint our iris on that flattened aspect then when we’re done painting, we build up layers of clear gloss to mimic the cornea and aqueous chamber that forms the rounded aspect of the orb. That should come closer to how the equine eye is actually constructed and therefore should look more authentic. At least, that’s my hypothesis. So let’s test it!

Preparation

First, we need to know a little bit about equine eye anatomy, specifically the iris, sclera, and limbus (grey line) in order to get them right in painting. In this, the iris and pupil should be on the flatter surface and the grey line should occur where that flat meets the rounded part, leaning into the rounded part.

Methods

Step 1: Shaving Down The Orb

I had to determine the expression of my piece immediately because how that orb is swiveled will determine where the iris is located which will determine where I shave it down. So I decided to have my eye look a little bit backwards (sclera in front) so I then knew I had to place my iris back a little bit. I penciled in the area I would shave flatter (Figure 1) then I used a Dremel small diamond bit to do this (use all PPE) and I took quite a bit off (Figure 2). I did a little sanding to smooth things out more evenly, gave the area a wash with water and let it air dry, then I was ready for primer to create my blank canvas.

Step 2: Painting

I approached this just as I would paint a conventional eye, but in a literal way. That’s to say, no jewel-like cabochon shading and highlighting as I usually paint my dark eyes. Why? Because I wanted to see exactly how it would all look in the most baseline way first (Figure 3).

However, I did do a secondary experiment on the other eye, treating it in that jewel-like cabochon way because I wanted to see how this method would work with that as well (Figure 4 and 5).

Speaking of which, I also did a third and fourth eye experiment on another junker, quickie painting them blue in the literal way on one side, and then in a cabochon way on the other side (Figure 6). Again, I wanted to see how all this would work with that color of eye, too.

And as a fifth experiment, I added the corpora nigra on the upper portion on the pupil of one of the brown eyes with a teensy bit of black paint to add dimension, because I've always wanted to see how that would look, too (Figure 3). It was so tiny though, it didn't make much of a difference. It might be worth another experiment on a larger eye though.

Then as a sixth experiment, I added the "blue glint" of the tapetum lucidum on one brown eye pupil and one blue eye pupil to see how that would look as well. I simply used Golden Interference Blue for that in a thin layer on the pupil. So many experiments! It’s a madhouse here! A madhouse! (Cue mad scientist laughter.) (Figure 4 and Figure 6, on the cabochon eyes)

Step 3: Glossing

I let that paint dry then it was time to add in the “cornea” and “aqueous chamber” with gloss. This was the tricky part! You see I wanted to avoid three things:

Messiness: The glossing had to be precise and tidy. Any hint of carelessness would ruin the result. However, I wasn't as careful as I could've been, granted, but you get the idea. I imagine had I been more careful, the result might have been better...or maybe not.
Slumping: I had to apply the gloss in successive layers, letting each layer dry in-between to avoid slumping. That orb had to be rounded, not slumped oblong and weird. So while it was hard to exercise patience — I wanted to see if this would work right now (shrieked like Veruca Salt) — I had to go in careful, methodical steps. However, the surface tension of the gloss was enough to keep it in place so I didn't have to place the model on its side.
Clouding: I had to be sure that the gloss wouldn’t get cloudy with gobs of it on there or yellow with age. So I veered away from nail polish and veered towards DecoArt Americana Triple Thick Brilliant Brush On Gloss Glaze. This produces a hyper-glossy finish and it’s thicker and not so prone to slumping like nail polish. I suppose you could also use Liquitex Gloss Medium, too, but I’m thinking it would need a lot more layers to build up that roundness than the DecoArt Gloss. It also doesn't dry to such a hard finish, staying relatively gummy, which I thought might be a problem with longterm durability.

So to actually apply the gloss, I added a dab on top of that flattened iris to create a rounded orb (Figure 7). Then I let that dry for two hours (the DecoArt Gloss takes a lot time to set up) with the model standing up as the surface tension was sufficient to keep it in place. Then I added a second dab and let that dry for another two hours. After that, I then glossed over the entire orb, adding a medium-thick layer to blend everything together. Then I let that dry overnight with the model standing up, as again, the surface tension of this gloss kept it from slumping.

Results

Well whadoya know! It worked! But did it work well enough? You can compare the brown eye effect with the blue eye effect from the front in Figure 8....

And here's the brown eyes up close (Figure 9). You can see that the left eye got a wee bit cloudy here. Note to self...

And here are the brown eyes from a bit aback so you can see the overall effect (Figure 10). What is cool about this process though is the "follow you around" effect it gives the eyes. It's particularly pronounced in the left eye because it was carved out bigger and flatter I suspect.

Here are the blue eyes up close, and you can see a bit better the subtle dimensionality this process imbues into the eye (Figure 11). It's a whisper, but its there...

And here's the blue eyes from farther away for an overall look (Figure 12). You might be able to see how much this process makes those eyes really "pop" out at you, with a glossier and more dimensional look.

You can't really see it well enough in the photos, but you can kinda see through the aqueous chamber when you see them from the front, but the effect is so painfully subtle. Overall then, the mean result is that pupils still look like they're painted "on top" from the front, for the most part. The aqueous chamber effect just isn't that pronounced, which is surprising given how much orb I removed and how much gloss I applied. However, the eyes do have that rather dimensional quality, and they even seem to follow you a bit, which is super cool. So yes, that dimensionality bumps up the effect equine eyes have in person, adding some improved believability and a slightly stronger impression. The thing is though, you have to see them in person to get the full effect as photos just aren't capturing that dimensionality quite as well as I would hope.

Now the thing is, I was a bit sloppy in both their painting and gloss application, I admit, but this was just a proof-of-concept experiment and I think you get the idea. That said though, there are a few things I learned in the process:

Working on a bigger eye was definitely easier than a smaller one, especially when it came to glossing. So scale factors into this method big time. I would say anything smaller than a 1:12 scale just isn't a good candidate.
The properly sculpted anatomical structure of the eye is really important for this process to look best. The more "off" the eye's structure, the more odd this effect looks only because these kinds of eyes have a lot more "pop."
You've got to know your eye anatomy, particularly between the iris and the sclera and the grey line. And getting the proper placement of the grey line was critical, as it had to be just on the edge of the flattened area but still on the rounded part.
Painting the iris and pupil is so much easier on a flatter surface!
I think this approach would work with any color eye from brown and blue, as we've seen, to green, amber, tiger eye, yellow eye to even a marbled eye. And I wonder how a slight metallic sheen, like we can sometimes see on adult champagnes, would work, too. I bet it would.
There was a lot of downtime per eye glossing plus overnight drying, allowing the gloss to dry properly. So I wonder if there's another type of gloss that dries quicker that would work, too? Might be worth a good search. This effect might also be a good reason to create these kinds of eyeballs in batches, in an assembly line, to get a bunch done at a time.
The PAM's eyes got a snidge cloudy around the pupil since I applied more gloss onto them than that SHS eyes, so I've made a mental note of that with this gloss.
I would let the gloss on these eyeballs fully dry for a good week before wrapping and shipping, just to be safe. Make sure that gloss is really dry and hard.

Discussion

Wrap it all up, and I do have to ask if all this work was actually worth it, given the (surprisingly) paltry results. I'm going to venture a "no," the extra work isn't really worth it because the effect just isn't pronounced enough for my liking. But maybe it will be for yours? Dunno. I do really like the dimensionality and "follow you" effect quite a bit, but well, pairing it with how much much harder it was it keep things tidy with all that gloss involved, I'm wondering if that was worth it, too. Hmmm. I kinda doubt it.

And just keep in mind that if you plan to go this route, it requires defacement of an Artist Resin (often a big no-no) or customization of an OF, which may complicate its placement in a repaint-only class. It also isn’t quite possible with ceramic pieces as I don’t see how you can get around the gloss glaze slumping off the eye during the fire, and you certainly can’t add on cold-painted aspects after the fact. As such, I’m thinking this may only be appropriate for Customs or on ARs where you have special permission from the sculptor.

What's more, with this penchant for stripping previously painted models, that practice will also strip away this effect on the eyes. This will necessitate a complete do-over so unless a painter is adept at this method, that's a real problem. I suppose if they aren't they can rebuild the eye into the "in the round" shape with epoxy clay and paint as per usual, but it would be a shame to destroy a perfectly cool eyeball done with this approach. The other option is to simply block out the eye with painter's tape and re-primer the piece to paint over it as that would preserve the eye treatment.

There’s this, too — will sculptors now have to account for this by sculpting in a flat surface onto their orbs? Hmmm. That’s a conundrum. For myself? I think not. I want my sculptures to stand-alone, to be whole and complete even without a paintjob so I’m going to continue to sculpt my eyes rounded out. Also, I want painters to pick their own expressions rather than being forced into one of my own. I dunno, I just think that's more fun.

But as for myself and my Custom maquettes, I think I'll stick with modus operandi with eyes "in the round." I wish this experiment had a more successful result, but maybe it's good that it didn't. The paradigm shift it would've introduced would have opened up a huge can of worms we're perhaps better off without. But even so...I do so wish the results were better! Maybe I'll give it another good think and try another approach sometime in the future.

Conclusion

Well, there ya go — a clear example of how creative FAFO can be so darned valuable in your arting! Experimentation and exploration isn’t only fun, it can be far more important than you may realize whether you succeed or fail. You learn something incredibly useful either way, something that could even shift the direction of your methods or aesthetic!

So if you have a novel idea, try it! Grab a junker and just try it! If it’s not dangerous, why not? What do you have to lose? Even if it implodes in failure, you’ll still have put something to the test and learned something new. And truth be told, failures can often be even more interesting than successes by presenting a lot more intriguing questions for new routes of discovery.

Put on that lab coat then, don those goggles, and muss up your hair like a proper mad scientist, and get into that studio lab and commence your experiments! Cackle madly if you wish! Adopt that Cheshire cat grin! Tesla coils, beakers, and particle colliders, oh my! Sizzle! Pop! Whirrr! Any which way, develop a creative hypothesis and put it to the test. It’s fascinating, surprising, and super fun, and it could hold the key to an innovative evolution in your work! Go for it!

“Art is an adventure into an unknown world, which can be explored only by those willing to take risks.”

— Mark Rothko

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