Tag: Monday Morning Art School

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Monday Morning Art School: why some colors fade

The pine nursery (Madawaska Pond), 12X16, oil on canvasboard, available.

Regular readers know I’m serious about replacing heavy-metal pigments with their non-toxic equivalents. The hardest is the cadmiums, since they mix differently from their non-toxic analogs. However, I’ve done well with everything but cadmium orange.

Research suggests there’s a fugitive pigment problem with two common cadmium substitutions: naphthol red and Hansa yellow. However, the science is mixed. Are these colors going to fade over time? Yes, no, and maybe.

Daylilies and lace-cap hydrangea, 11X14, $869 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

The binder matters

Compared to oil paints, watercolor pigments fade faster (which is why I use this watercolor site as my first stop in researching pigments). Oil paint is made with linseed (or walnut, or safflower) oil, which forms a durable film as it cures. That film offers some natural UV protection and binds the pigment tightly to the surface. Watercolors, on the other hand, rely on gum arabic and leave almost no film. The pigment is just sitting there exposed. So, all pigments last longer in oils than in watercolor, especially when the work is varnished.

The paint manufacturer matters a great deal. Cheap student grade paints are made with cheap pigments, and the result is often fading. If you’re serious about painting, choose serious paint.

I’m about to get into the weeds of pigment numbers. If you’re not familiar with how they work, read this on how to read a paint tube, or check the manufacturers’ websites. If they’re good paint-makers, they’re upfront about the pigments.

Forsythia at Three Chimneys, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 framed includes shipping and handling in continental United States.

Is Hansa yellow fugitive?

Hansa yellow isn’t a single pigment—it’s a family of modern, synthetic yellows based on arylide chemistry. You’ll see them on paint tubes labeled as PY3, PY73, and a few other close cousins. Some versions are more lightfast than others, but all of them fall somewhere in the middle—not entirely fugitive like Alizarin Crimson, but not bulletproof. Add to that the fact that different brands formulate their paint with different binders and pigment loads, and the result is a maddening lack of consistency.

The ‘lemon yellow’ Hansas are the worst offenders. PY1 and PY2 are fugitive or marginally lightfast pigments. PY3 varies by manufacturer and batch. The medium and deep Hansas are more lightfast, including PY97, PY65 and PY74 (which is commonly found in acrylics). 

Naphthol red

The fugitive Naphthol reds are PR3 and PR9 (developed primarily as a printing ink). Look for PR112, PR170 and PR188. Better yet, substitute a Pyrrole Red; they’re all lightfast. PR254 is one of the most light-stable reds available on the market today.

Cypresses and Sunlight, 11X14, Carol L. Douglas, $1087

The sad story of the disappearing quinacridones.

I love all the quinacridone pigments—they’re lightfast, brilliant and inexpensive. But certain of them, especially on the yellow and red end, have disappeared or become very difficult to find.

The problem is industrial. Pigment manufacturers don’t exist for the art world. We’re a tiny sliver of their business. These pigments were originally developed for things like car paint and plastics. If a particular quinacridone pigment stops being profitable for auto manufacturers, it often gets discontinued. That’s exactly what happened with the original PO49 Quinacridone Gold—it was taken off the market because the volume sold to artists just couldn’t justify the cost of keeping it in production.

How to choose stable, long-lasting pigments

Always start by reading the pigment numbers, not just the names on the tubes. Don’t panic if your favorite paint changes—just test, adjust, and keep painting. Buy products from good manufacturers. And make peace with the idea that nothing lasts forever.

Got a favorite discontinued pigment or a lightfastness disaster story? Drop it in the comments—let’s commiserate together.

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Monday Morning Art School: 5 simple things you can do to instantly improve your paintings

American Eagle in Drydock, 12X16, $1159 unframed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Improvement doesn’t necessarily come from grand gestures like buying new brushes. The biggest leaps come from simple, repeatable, immediate actions. These are things you can do today to make tomorrow’s paintings stronger. Here are five that never fail.

Skylarking, 24X36, oil on canvas, $3985 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Take off your glasses or squint

I’m nearsighted; I paint with my glasses on a string around my neck and they’re there only because I need them to drive home. Some of you were unfortunately born with perfect eyesight. For you there’s only one remedy: squint.

Blurriness simplifies the world. It mutes unnecessary detail and helps you see big shapes, value relationships and underlying design. Paintings fall apart when we chase every detail without considering how they fit into the whole. Before you touch your brush, remove your glasses or squint until you see only three or four major value shapes. Then paint those. Detail is for the end of a painting, and it’s not always necessary.

Breaking Storm, oil on linen, 30X48, $5579 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Stop buying more paint

You don’t need three trays of watercolors or 40 tubes of oil paint to make great color. In fact, that just stops you from learning color theory. That’s why I suggest paired primaries, which are just a warm and cool version of each primary. I augment them with a few earth pigments because they’re cheap and versatile, and (in solid media) white. Mixing within them teaches you, whereas buying lots of paint just impoverishes you.

Buying more paint can be a form of flailing around. It can be displacement behavior; it’s simply easier than buckling down, especially when what’s on your easel isn’t going well.

Step back and look

There’s a maxim that a painting should compel from thirty feet, three feet, and three inches. That just means it needs to draw you in from across the room and hold your interest once you’re close. It’s amazing how different a painting looks from a few feet away. Up close, a passage can look and feel like a struggle to the death. From a distance, it’s just a patch of color in either the right or wrong place.

Make stepping back part of your rhythm. If, say, you’re standing on a cliff and you can’t back up, take a photo on your phone. That creates an emotional distance that’s almost as useful.

Camden Harbor, Midsummer, oil on canvas, 24X36 $3188 includes shipping in continental US.

Simplify, simplify

Every painting ought to be a distillation of a truth, not a transcript of an event. Ask yourself, what is the story? Then edit out the extraneous detail that doesn’t support it. If your painting is about an old house, don’t get lost in the weeds. If your painting is about those blackberry brambles, don’t get lost in the house’s trim.

Those are decisions that should be made in the composition phase. Everything irrelevant should be subservient to the point you’re trying to convey.

Paint more

Skill doesn’t arrive like a thunderclap. It grows, one session at a time. You can read, talk, and think about art all day long, but there’s no substitute for time in front of a canvas. Twenty minutes of focused drawing or painting will move you forward faster than hours of browsing. Set your alarm early tomorrow and paint something small. You’ll surprise yourself. That’s why daily paint challenges are so helpful; they get us moving even when we don’t feel like it.

Improving as a painter isn’t about waiting for inspiration or reinventing your technique. It’s about building better habits, right now, with what you already have.

So go ahead—squint, simplify, mix from a smaller palette, step back, and paint more often. Those five small choices will do more for your art than any magic brush ever could.

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Monday Morning Art School: how to draw trees

Baby pine tree in snow, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, Carol L. Douglas

Last week, I challenged you to paint five trees in five days. Trees require careful observation and a clear sense of structure. If you understand how to draw trees, painting them is easy.

Start with the canopy

Before you pick up your pencil, ask yourself: what is the canopy shape? Is it rounded, conical, flat-topped, or irregular? Every species has a characteristic outline, and nailing that shape is the first step to drawing them right.

Then look at the branching structure. Are the limbs weeping, upright, straight, or crabbed? Do they branch alternately or oppositely?

Take a quick measurement to figure out the height-width ratio of your tree. How much of that is exposed trunk? A common error is to make the canopy much too small for the trunk, like a broccoli floret. Another is to have branches that only extend out to the sides, instead of all around the tree.

Windy Bay, Little Turtle Lake, 1922, J.E.H. MacDonald, courtesy National Gallery of Canada

Next, the bark

Immature and mature trees often look very different. The bark tells the tree’s age and species—compare a baby birch’s smooth red trunk to the deep fissures of an old oak. Observing this keeps you from painting generic tree trunks that could belong anywhere.

Trees in the macro: careful observation

Andrew Wyeth was probably art’s greatest observer of trees. Consider his Long Limb (1998). The painting is less about botanical accuracy and more about design, but the narrow twigs and leaf shapes still reveal the species if you look closely.

In Far from Needham (1966), Wyeth didn’t improvise the structure—he carefully drew out what he was painting. That gives the abstract design much more power.

Tree in the midrange: integration and atmosphere

In J.E.H. MacDonald’s Windy Bay, Little Turtle Lake, above, trees are integrated into the background through a closely allied color structure. He’s not fussing over details; he’s ensuring they sit naturally in the landscape.

Compare that to Ivan Shishkin’s Oak Grove (1887). This is poetic realism: the lighting and atmospherics are exaggerated, but the branching structure and leaves are precisely observed. That balance gives the painting its impact.

Autumn’s Garland, 1915-16, Tom Thomson, courtesy National Gallery of Canada

Trees in the distance: simplify

As trees recede, shape and value dominate. In Tom Thomson’s Autumn’s Garland (1915–16), the silhouette is key, and value contrast is reduced to push them into the distance. Lawren Harris’s Montreal River (c. 1920) shows how distant trees can be reduced to brushmarks or even a single undifferentiated shape.

Montreal River, c. 1920 oil on paperboard, Lawren S. Harris, courtesy McMichael Canadian Art Collection

How to draw trees, step by step

I draw trees as a series of columns or tubes. I start with trunk and major limbs. This helps me see perspective if a branch is coming toward me or away from me in space.

When I’m done with that step, I always check my negative space. That’s how I catch errors in drafting.

Then I rough out the outline, but without erasing the initial circles; they’re the tree’s joints.

After that I set shadows and establish the value pattern.

Then I rough in foliage, thinking about masses and values, not leaves.

Presto, it’s a tree.

Observe first

Understanding trees isn’t about memorizing species; it’s about learning to see canopy, branching, bark, and structure at every scale. Once those fundamentals are in place, you can easily paint trees, each different, but all rooted in strong drawing.

What do you want in a painting class?

As I plan next year’s offerings, I’d love to hear from you. What inspires you? What would you love to learn, explore, or revisit? Your insights will help shape my classes and workshops going forward.

As a heartfelt thank you, you’ll receive a $25 discount code for anything on my website once you complete the survey. It’s my way of saying thanks for helping build something meaningful together.

It’s a short survey—just a few minutes—and your voice will make a real difference.  Click here!

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Monday Morning Art School: five days, five trees

Baby spruce on the shoreline at Corea, 8X10, Carol L. Douglas, private collection.

Early autumn is a season for show-offs. Maples are decked out in red, birches are fluttering gold confetti, and the oaks are quietly deepening into bronze.

This week, I’m challenging you to paint one tree a day for five days—a fast, seasonal series to sharpen your skills and catch the fleeting colors before they’re gone. Think of it as your equivalent of a daily walk: short, refreshing, anxiety-reducing and, above all, fun.

Those of you doing the Strada 30-day challenge (and you are legion) will find this a natural fit with your current discipline.

Eastern White Pine, 11X14, Carol L. Douglas, private collection

The challenge

  • Paint one tree each day, Monday through Friday.
  • Work small.
  • Focus on one tree per painting, not on an entire landscape.
  • Work fast. This is about observation and response.
  • You can work in oils, watercolor, gouache, acrylic, markers or even crayons.
Baby trees, 6X8, Carol L. Douglas, private collection.

Why trees?

Trees are ideal seasonal subjects. Each species responds to autumn differently, and every tree has its own character. By painting multiple specimens over a week, you’ll learn to:

  • Notice subtle shifts in color.
  • Closely observe the growth patterns of different species of trees.
  • Capture structure and gesture quickly.
  • Understand how light and atmosphere affect foliage.
  • Loosen up.
Nobody said these trees had to be realistic. This is also a 6X8.

Tips for Success

  • Pick your tree before you start. Eliminate decision fatigue.
  • Squint to simplify shape and value.
  • Start with big color masses, then refine edges and accents only as needed.
  • Resist the urge to noodle.
  • If it rains, paint from your car or porch. Or, if you can’t take time for plein air this week, paint from photos.

Share

I’d love to see what you create. Post your tree paintings on Instagram or Facebook with the hashtag #FiveTreesChallenge and tag me so I can see what you’re doing.

Pear tree, 9X12, Carol L. Douglas, private collection.

Why I’m asking you to do this

Many years ago, I set out to paint a 6X8 canvas of an individual tree every day. I quit only after I’d exhausted the selection of trees at my disposal. Since I live in the Northeast, this took a while.

My daily tree exercise was as useful to me as studying figure. I learned to understand trees in their robust roundness, and to draw them gesturally.

A short, structured challenge like this builds good painting habits. It sharpens our editorial instincts and creates painting momentum. By Friday, you’ll have a lovely little series, and who knows? Maybe you, like me, will keep painting trees.

Take it further

If this week’s challenge whets your appetite for deeper study, join me for my October Rockport Immersive Workshop in Rockport, ME. We’ll paint Maine’s spectacular autumn landscape, with focused instruction, plenty of easel time and a community of fellow painters. There’s no better way to grow than to paint intensively in good company.

Learn more and register here.

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Monday Morning Art School: how to prepare for a plein air painting workshop

A good workshop fosters camaraderie.

A good plein air painting workshop is a growth opportunity. You set aside time to focus on painting—something most of us rarely get to do in the press of ordinary life. A little preparation before you arrive will make your week smoother, more productive, and more fun.

Pack the right gear

Painting outdoors is different from working in your studio. The wind blows, the sun shifts, and you can’t run to the store if you need something. That’s why I send you specific supply lists.

These lists also include necessities like paper towels, trash bags, bug spray, sunscreen and a hat. Don’t forget water and sensible shoes. (If you’re flying, let me know and I’ll tell you what you can safely carry on a plane and what you can’t.)

Having fun talking about values.

Practice with your kit ahead of time

Nothing slows you down more than fumbling with an unfamiliar easel on the very first morning. Set up your easel beforehand. Is it stable? Can you reach your palette without stooping or stretching? Do you need additional space to hold tubes of paint or brushes? Time you invest in practicing your set-up will pay off when you’re standing outside, impatient to get started.

This is my friend Jane, talking to my students about I don’t know what. She’s a crackerjack painter, so I’m sure it was good.

Condition yourself for the outdoors

Plein air is the most satisfying and instructive painting discipline, but it’s also physical work. You’ll be outdoors for long stretches. If you’re not used to being outdoors, give yourself the grace of a little conditioning. Go for walks. Practice sketching out of doors. You don’t have to be an athlete, but stamina helps you stay focused on painting.

Study your fundamentals

A workshop is where I want to start brand-new painters, because I can give them the one-on-one attention that they need. But it stands to reason that the more comfortable you are with the basics, the more you’ll get out of instruction. Do a few quick sketches every day. Don’t worry about whether they’re any good. Think of this as stretching before a race: it warms you up for the work ahead.

Occasionally, you’ll have to watch me demo, but I promise I’ll crack jokes.

Arrive with an open mind

Perhaps the most important preparation is mental. While we want to see change, we’re also afraid to let go of our ingrained habits. Growth doesn’t come from staying in our comfort zones.

It’s not just you who’s resistant to change; it’s everyone, including me. Every student comes into a workshop with habits, strengths and stumbling blocks. Be ready to let go of your routine and try something new. Some lessons may click right away; others may feel uncomfortable at first. You can trust me and my process; I’ve been teaching a long time.

You’ll learn as much from your fellow students as from me. Be willing to share your thoughts, ask questions, and offer encouragement. A workshop is a group effort, and the energy you put in helps everyone rise.

Be ready to show your work

Critique and student shows can feel intimidating, but they’re great opportunities to see your progress with fresh eyes. Remember, everyone else is just as vulnerable as you are. Hang your work proudly—it’s the record of your week’s labor and learning.

Above all, a plein air workshop should be fun.

Ready to try it?

A plein air workshop is a gift you give yourself: uninterrupted time to paint, guidance to grow, and experiences that will stay with you long after we all pack up and head home. If you’d like to take that leap, join me in Rockport for my October In-Person Immersive Workshop. We’ll paint the coast in its autumn glory, have a guided tour of the Farnsworth Art Museum and visit the Page Gallery, where Colin Page will talk to you about his process. We’ll wrap up with a student show. Spots are limited—reserve yours today and come ready to paint outside with confidence.

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Monday Morning Art School: the overwhelming landscape

The Vineyard, oil on linen, 30X40, $5072 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Last summer, one of my students arrived at my workshop with a problem I see frequently. She could draw beautifully from photos, but when she set up outdoors, she froze. “The landscape is overwhelming,” she said. “There’s too much going on. I don’t even know where to start.”

That’s the problem of infinite options, and at times it can be a problem for even the most experienced painters. That’s especially true in a new environment. There is a sense that the whole world is pressing in, demanding to be painted. If you succumb to that and don’t break the scene down, you end up fussing endlessly over detail. Or, by trying to include everything, you end up with a painting about nothing in particular.

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, $696 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

On the first day, I gave this student one simple assignment: big shapes first. We stood on the edge of a blueberry barren, facing a stand of spruces set against the immensity of the ocean and the sky. “Squint,” I told her. “What are the three biggest shapes you see?” She hesitated, then answered: “The sea, the sky and the trees.”

That became, in the end, both her composition and her focal points. Once she blocked these in on her sketch, she could move easily into a structured, sensible painting. She was no longer struggling to find a starting point in an immense landscape, and the mindless chatter of too much detail faded.

Coal Seam, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

By the end of that day, she had a painting that was loose, fresh, and alive. More importantly, she had an epiphany. She realized she didn’t have to paint everything, only the essence of the scene. From that point onward, the workshop was a romp for her.

Every painter has hurdles like this—sometimes it’s drawing, sometimes color, sometimes just getting past his or her own nerves. The good news is: once you know the roadblock, you can break it down. That’s where good instruction and practice make all the difference.

But don’t take my word for it

Here are some of the comments I received after last year’s October immersive plein air workshop:

“The week started as an exercise in frustration, for all the varied reasons that make watercolor challenging. But Carol, with a sprinkling of her magic dust, managed to turn it into a high by Friday afternoon.” (Rebecca)

“It was a week of growth for me! Thank you, Carol, for a wonderful learning experience.” (Lynda)

“What a magnificent experience this has been to meet everyone, be a part of a week of learning, living, creating, with like-minded artists and a teacher with significant range… I loved our week together and would do it again in a heartbeat.  I learned so much from Carol, which was the icing.” (Jody)

Eastern Manitoba River, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

“I had a wonderful week! I learned a lot and am left energized and motivated to put all my new-found methodology to work.” (Beth)

“Thank you for the abundant art wisdom, patience and willingness to give of yourself.” (Sandy)

“This is the first workshop I’ve attended without a 2–3-hour demo to start every day and it was WAY better!  The personal attention addressing my painting–where I’m at and where I’m trying to go–was so much more helpful than watching someone paint then trying to relate it to my work.  The demo at the end of the week solidified all that we had discussed all week. (Christine)

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed when standing in front of a landscape, don’t put off tackling it. My October immersive plein air workshop is your chance to face it head-on.

But space is limited, and October will be here before you know it. Don’t wait—secure your spot today, and give yourself the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for.

Click here to reserve your place before it’s gone.

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Monday Morning Art School: break out of the detail zone

“Belfast Harbor,” 14X18, $1594 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

“Big shapes to small shapes” describes the order in which you should build a picture. It means that you should start by laying down the largest, simplest forms. Once you’ve established the major masses of light and dark and broad color areas, you can gradually refine into smaller shapes.

Starting with detail too soon means you won’t get the value relationships or compositional elements right. That’s important because big masses determine how we read visual images.

Sadly, new painters often get this backwards. They get stuck in the detail zone early on. This is a trap caused by fear of failure.

Surf’s Up is 12X16, on a prepared birch surface. $1159 includes shipping and handling in the Continental US.

Perseveration is a stall tactic

The big shapes, values, and composition are harder to commit to because they carry all the weight of a painting; detail is, conversely, relatively unimportant. But insecure painters subconsciously jump to detail to avoid making hard compositional decisions. Obsessing over detail lets you delay facing whether the bones of the painting are working.

(This is not an argument in favor of sloppy, fast drawing. Edges are an important part of the big shapes and value masses of a painting, and you should take the time to get them right.)

The detail zone gives us a false sense of progress. Adding fussy little marks feels productive, but if the big design isn’t solid, details can’t save a painting. It’s like putting lipstick on a pig.

When you stay in the detail zone, you don’t have to confront whether the big picture is successful. It feels safer to buff up one section of a canvas than face the risk of failure. Focusing on detail can also be a way of trying to maintain control.

Details are familiar, soothing, and lots easier than value decisions. By hiding in detail, painters stay where they feel safe instead of pushing the work forward.

But if the painting works at arm’s length, the details will always fall into place. If it doesn’t work at arm’s length, no amount of fiddly work will fix it.

High Surf, 12X16, oil on prepared birch painting surface, $1159 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Move along

Going back to the same passage of a painting over and over probably means that something else entirely has gone wrong with your painting. Move on and you’ll break your frustration logjam. In fact, you’ll often solve your original questions subconsciously just by stepping away from the easel (which is why I often suggest to perseverating students that they take a snack break).

Heavy Weather (Ketch Angelique), 24X36, oil on canvas, framed, $3985 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

How to break out of the detail zone

There are several tried-and-true techniques to focus on the big picture:

  • Step back every few minutes. Ask yourself: Does it read? Are the big shapes clear?
  • Squint so that small details disappear. What’s left are the big shapes, where you should focus your effort.
  • Don’t paint any details until the entire image is blocked in with larger shapes.
  • Use the largest brush you can get away with for as long as possible. A big flat won’t let you paint individual blades of grass.
  • Stop relying so much on reference photos. They suck you into petty detail. After twenty minutes or so, set your cell phone aside and work from memory.
  • Work in layers, general to specific, going over the whole surface before starting to break shapes into the next smaller units.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Monday Morning Art School: why choose non-toxic pigments?

In Control (Grace and her Unicorn), 24X30, $3,478 framed, oil on canvas, includes shipping in continental United States.

One of my students in Sea & Sky at Acadia National Park last week is a PhD researcher in the health sciences. I was thrilled to hear her disparage cobalt blue, not for its rather muddy color, but for the health risks associated with metal pigments.

Many traditional artist pigments contain toxic metals. These include cadmium (cadmium red, cadmium yellow), cobalt (cobalt blue, cobalt green), lead (lead white, flake white), and chromium (chromium oxide, viridian). In powdered form, heated as encaustics, or when sanded, they can be inhaled or ingested. Their health effects can be very serious, including organ damage, neurological problems and cancer risk. (As a three-time cancer survivor, I take this seriously.) The problem is most serious with loose pigments (as in pastels) or when heated in encaustics. But even when bound in oil or acrylic binders, small chips, dust or contaminated hands still pose hazards.

Ravenous Wolves, oil on canvas, 24X30, $3,478.00 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

As real as these health hazards are, they pale in comparison to the risks to the people making these pigments. We’ve shipped our most egregious safety hazards to the developing world, where health and safety regulations are severely limited, and child labor isn’t unknown. Sadly, pigment manufacture is done almost entirely in those places. When you buy a tube of paint including heavy metal pigments, you’re contributing to that problem.

How do you know what pigments are in your paint?

All good manufacturers tell you what’s in their paints, either online or on the tube. The marketing name can be confusing, so I wrote this blog post to explain how to determine what’s in your paint.

Tilt-A-Whirl, oil on archival canvasboard, $869 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Environmental toxicity
When you wash brushes in a sink or dispose of leftover paint, these same metals enter the wastewater stream. From there, they can accumulate in soil and waterways. Heavy metals don’t break down—they persist in the environment, harming wildlife and contaminating the food chain.

Safer alternatives now exist
Modern synthetic pigments generally surpass the brightness, permanence, and opacity of these ‘legacy’ heavy metal pigments, without the same toxicity profile. Painters should switch to these options for safety and ethical reasons.

However, heavy metal paints are still legal and still widely used. If you feel you must (and I hope you don’t), take the following safety precautions:

  • Work in a well-ventilated room (open windows, use fans to exhaust air outside). Keep children and pets out of your painting area.
  • Have a separate sink bucket for brush water—never dump pigment water into household drains. When the brush water has completely evaporated, dispose of solids as toxic solid-waste.
  • Dispose of painting rags as solid hazardous waste.
  • Wear nitrile gloves while handling paints.
  • Wear a particulate mask while sanding and do so in a well-ventilated area.
  • Use a palette knife to mix colors (you should be doing that anyway).
  • Wear dedicated painting clothes, and don’t track pigment dust into your home.
  • Wash your hands before leaving the studio or handling food or drink.
  • Work in a well-ventilated space.
  • Keep food and drinks out of the studio.
Best Buds, 11X14, oil on canvasboard, $1087 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Doesn’t that sound like a complete pain?

Instead, why not use non-toxic pigments? They’re generally higher-chroma and less prone to fading anyway.

Here is a chart of toxic pigments and modern, non-toxic pigments:

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Monday Morning Art School: five ways to create focal points

By the time you read this, I’ll be embarking on my first day of two weeks of teaching—first at Schoodic Institute in Acadia National Park, and then in the Berkshires. (Schoodic is now closed, but there’s still room in the Berkshires.) This morning I’m starting with composition and focal points.

Focal points are crucial in painting. They guide the viewer’s eye and create visual interest and impact. Not everything in a painting should compete for attention. Focal points help establish a clear visual order, telling the viewer where to look first. This hierarchy makes the painting more readable and engaging.

Understanding focal points is fundamental to intentionally designing your paintings. Focal points influence and interact with rhythm, value structure, color, edges, and detail—in short, the most critical elements of design.

For a more in-depth description of focal point, see here.

How to Create a Focal Point:

Here are five ways to create focal points in your paintings

Line—the human eye naturally follows lines.

Line is the boundary between two shapes. There are two fundamental kinds of line: actual lines, which are visible marks, and implied lines, which are suggested by a sequence of objects—like a row of trees or the gaze of the subject.

Line directs the eye, so you can use it to guide the viewer through the painting.

Value contrast—the eye sees shifts in value first.

This makes it the most important design element in visual art. Value contrast defines form and structure and creates the illusion of depth and volume. But most importantly, it controls the viewer’s eye.

Because of the physical construction of our eyes, we are drawn to areas of strong contrast. You can use value contrast to highlight focal points, draw the viewer through your composition and emphasize what’s important (and downplay what isn’t). That’s the theatrical power of chiaroscuro right there.

Chroma contrast—use high-chroma focal points in contrast to a neutral background.

Lobster pound, 14X18, oil on canvas, $1594 framed includes shipping and handling within the continental US.

First, some definitions. High chroma means intense, pure, vivid color. Low chroma means dull, neutral, or grayed-out color.

Passages of high chroma against low chroma draw attention and create focal points. Our eyes are drawn to areas of strong chroma contrast. For example, a splash of bright yellow in a painting full of muted tones instantly commands attention.

Varying chromatic intensity also adds emotional power, creates depth and space, and supports color harmony.

Warm vs. cool contrast—use warm tones against cool tones to create focal points.

Heavy Weather (Ketch Angelique), 24X36, oil on canvas, framed, $3985 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Contrasting warm and cool colors draw the eye. The viewer instinctively notices where temperatures shift, especially if warm and cool are placed side by side.

Warm vs. cool contrast is one of the most useful tools in a painter’s toolbox. It helps create spatial depth, especially when describing light and shadow. It adds emotional tone. Used properly, it creates color harmony.

Place focal points at strategic compositional points

Placing focal points at visually strategic points in a painting is essential. You would be unwise to place focal points on the edge of the canvas, for example. That looks unbalanced and will encourage the viewer’s eye to just leave the picture entirely.

Careful placement of focal points guides the viewer’s eye naturally. These have to be considered in relation to each other, and their placement is as important as the patterns of darks in your painting.

Strategic placement always takes into account the shape and orientation of the canvas. It’s about using the visual geometry of the space to strengthen the painting’s design.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

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Monday Morning Art School: the overwhelming landscape

The Vineyard, oil on linen, 30X40, $5072 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Last summer, one of my students arrived at my workshop with a problem I see frequently. She could draw beautifully from photos, but when she set up outdoors, she froze. “The landscape is overwhelming,” she said. “There’s too much going on. I don’t even know where to start.”

That’s the problem of infinite options, and at times it can be a stumbling block for even the most experienced painters, especially in a new environment. There is a sense that the whole world is pressing in, demanding to be painted. If you succumb to that and don’t break the scene down, you end up fussing endlessly over detail. Or, by trying to include everything, you end up with a painting about nothing in particular.

On the first day, I gave this student one simple assignment: big shapes first. We stood on the edge of a blueberry barren, facing a stand of spruces set against the immensity of the ocean and the sky. “Squint,” I told her. “What are the three biggest shapes you see?” She hesitated, then answered: “The sea, the sky and the trees.”

Athabasca River Confluence, 9X12, $696 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

That became, in the end, both her composition and her focal points. Once she blocked these in on her sketch, she could move easily into a structured, sensible painting. She was no longer struggling to find a starting point in an immense landscape, and the mindless chatter of too much detail faded.

By the end of that day, she had a painting that was loose, fresh, and alive. More importantly, she had an epiphany. She realized she didn’t have to paint everything, only the essence of the scene. From that point onward, the workshop was a romp for her.

Every painter has hurdles like this—sometimes it’s drawing, sometimes color, sometimes just getting past his or her own nerves. The good news is: once you know the roadblock, you can break it down. That’s where good instruction and practice make all the difference.

Coal Seam, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

But don’t take my word for it

Here are some of the comments I received after last year’s October immersive plein air workshop:

“The week started as an exercise in frustration, for all the varied reasons that make watercolor challenging. But Carol, with a sprinkling of her magic dust, managed to turn it into a high by Friday afternoon.” (Rebecca)

“It was a week of growth for me! Thank you, Carol, for a wonderful learning experience.” (Lynda)

“What a magnificent experience this has been to meet everyone, be a part of a week of learning, living, creating, with like-minded artists and a teacher with significant range… I loved our week together and would do it again in a heartbeat.  I learned so much from Carol, which was the icing.” (Jody)

“I had a wonderful week! I learned a lot and am left energized and motivated to put all my new-found methodology to work.” (Beth)

“Thank you for the abundant art wisdom, patience and willingness to give of yourself.” (Sandy)

“This is the first workshop I’ve attended without a 2–3-hour demo to start every day and it was WAY better!  The personal attention addressing my painting–where I’m at and where I’m trying to go–was so much more helpful than watching someone paint then trying to relate it to my work.  The demo at the end of the week solidified all that we had discussed all week. (Christine)

Eastern Manitoba River, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed when standing in front of a landscape, don’t put off tackling it. My October immersive plein air workshopis your chance to face it head-on. With its sweeping views and ever-changing light, Beech Hill is one of the best classrooms you’ll ever step into.

But space is limited, and October will be here before you know it. Don’t wait—secure your spot today, and give yourself the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for.

Click here to reserve your place before it’s gone.