Why I Love Creating Abstract Art
I'll start with a confession: I'm quite a tidy person generally but when it comes to painting I'm very messy. The room I paint in looks like it's been ransacked, the walls have paint splatters everywhere, and even my paintings start out really messy.
Give me a canvas, some watercolours or acrylics, and the guarantee that no one will judge the state of my paint-covered clothes, and I am in my happy place. If there’s also a good cup of coffee involved and maybe some birdsong drifting in through the open window - well, that’s pretty much my perfect day.
This is why I love abstract art. Specifically, why I love creating it. Why my heart does a little pirouette every time I pick up a brush and just let loose!
It’s Like a Dance With My Paintbrush
Abstract art can be really freeing. Genuinely, joyfully freeing. For me, it’s not about precision - it’s about feeling. It’s not about copying - it’s about responding. When I sit down to paint, I don’t always know what’s going to happen, and I love that.
Sometimes I’ll start with a colour that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Or maybe a texture that reminds me of tree bark. I can write a few words, sketch a few scribbles, swipe some colour, splash some water around (accidentally or on purpose - who can say? 😂) and then see what the painting wants to become...
It’s like a conversation between me and the canvas, except the canvas isn’t always polite and sometimes responds with a splodge in exactly the wrong place. But that’s half the fun. It’s a relationship built on spontaneity, intuition and trust. The paint says Go on, go mad! And I reply Alright then - but don’t make me regret it!
Nature, But Not As You Know It
As you probably already know, I get a lot of inspiration from nature. Flowers, trees, leaves, rolling hills, misty woods - you know, all the stuff that makes you sigh and go Ahhh... But when I paint, I don’t want to recreate that exact flower or that specific oak tree, I want to bottle the feeling it gave me. The way the light dappled through the branches. The thrill of finding unexpected wildflowers along a walking path. The gentle swoosh of the leaves in a wood.
Realism has its place (and I can actually draw and paint realistically when I choose to 😆), but it’s not what makes me happiest. Colour, movement and emotion do that for me, with swirls and splashes and mysterious shapes that hint at nature without tying it down.
When someone looks at one of my abstract paintings and says, “It reminds me of that time I went walking in the mountains” or “That bit looks like a rose!” - that’s the magic. I didn’t paint a mountain or a rose, but something about the essence of it got through. Like a little postcard from my soul 🥰
Layers, Secrets and the Joy of Hidden Surprises
One of my favourite things about creating abstract art is building up layers. I love layers! It's like making a cake, except this one has no calories and doesn’t require an oven (or even a recipe!)
I’ll start with something light and playful - some doodles, textures or splashes of colour - then build and build, adding more paint, scribbles, maybe some bits of collage or ink, or whatever else feels right in the moment.
And sometimes, in those layers, there are little secrets hiding. Maybe part of a word or sketch, or a section of texture that only peeks through if you look closely. I love the idea that someone might spot a hidden music note or a swirly spiral in the corner and feel like they've discovered a little treasure.
And it’s also a great excuse when something doesn’t go quite right 😁. Oh, that smudge? That’s a mystical symbol from the ancient land of Whoopsy-Daisy. Very intentional, thank you very much.
It’s Personal - But It’s Yours Too
One of the best things about abstract art is how open it is to interpretation. I can paint something with a particular feeling or memory in mind - maybe the warmth of the sun on my face during a walk through a wildflower field - but someone else might see something totally different. They might feel a sense of calm, or excitement, or even nostalgia for something they can’t quite put their finger on.
And that makes me really happy!
If one of my paintings reminds you of a dream you had as a child, while I had a seascape in mind when I painted it, it doesn't matter. That’s the beauty of it. Abstract art is like a mirror that reflects back something intensely personal to each person who looks at it.
It’s not about figuring it out or getting it right, it’s about feeling something. And maybe smiling. Or feeling a little wonder. Or just thinking Ooh, that’s pretty!
Beauty Without Baggage
I don’t set out to make art with a specific meaning. Of course, if you want to find meaning in my splashes and scribbles, go right ahead - I fully support interpretive freedom. But really? I create to celebrate the beauty around us. To offer up a moment of joy, a burst of colour, a little escape from the grey and the serious. The world can be heavy sometimes. Art doesn’t always have to be. Sometimes it can just say Hey, look at this! Isn’t it lovely?
That’s enough for me. More than enough, really.
Paint First, Ask Questions Later
I'm a bit awkward sometimes - I often say the wrong things (and agonise about it for days afterwards), I need a drink to be able to boogie in public, and I sometimes feel like a bit of a misfit. Creating abstract art is my way of dancing with the world without any self-consciousness. I can respond to beauty without needing to explain it. I can play with paint like a curious child who just discovered what happens when you mix blue and yellow (spoiler alert: it's still green, but somehow always a new kind of green...)
This is why I love abstract art. I love the freedom, the surprises, the connections it creates. I love that it lets me take what I see and feel and turn it into something unique and joyful. And I love that other people get to bring their own stories to it too.
And the fact that I can make a lovely mess while I'm at it is the cherry on top! 😄