Marsha Thrift Fine Art: How Do I Decide What to Paint?

Choosing a subject to paint can sometimes be a daunting task. If it is not a commission or something I "must" paint, I most always choose something that really excites me that I just want to capture. Often the way that light falls onto a subject grabs my attention, and I want to capture "the way it is now." I usually photograph my subject for future use in the studio touch up and finalization, but I grab my pastels on the spot and begin to lay in the under painting . . . hey, it's half finished already. Then I paint it quickly before the light changes too much (usually 2-3 hours), focusing on the big shapes and values. Painting what you love and desire will give you the best results in your finished painting.

Some years ago when I painted this watercolor of my little dog, it was just that . . . a subject that was dear to me. I love the way he always slept on the sofa with his little head propped on a pillow. I love to paint watercolors with lots of the paper left unpainted, so I wanted to paint him in watercolor because of his white color and the soft cool colors in the shadows that the light would create. Though he did this quite often, I just never could find a time to bring out my paints and paint that little guy. My children were little and quite active at the time, and that does not promote good concentration for painting. One weekend when they were on a special "girls' trip" with their dad, it hit me . . . now I can do the painting! Little Coquey was, of course, asleep once again on the sofa with head on pillow. I quickly ran downstairs, got my paints, returned to the sleeping dog. and began to paint. I knew I had limited time as animals don't usually stay in one position very long. I wanted to capture him right there, not from a photograph, so I worked furiously and miraculously finished before he moved. Whew! Old as it is, I have always loved this painting. I feel that I captured him perfectly as I had wanted, and I know it is because I had the desire and determination to paint him in that moment.

Here are a few other paintings that just seemed "to work" because of the passion I felt to paint them:

I was in Beaufort, NC with a friend. As we started out that morning to paint, we both spotted this boat at the same time, and we both knew that we need not look any further for a painting subject that morning. We had to paint this colorful boat docked in the inlet and splattered with early morning light.

When I saw this sunset while vacationing in Bonaire, I was breathless with it's beauty, exclaiming that it was, by far, the most exquisite sunset that I had ever seen, I knew I had to paint it. Since I didn't have my pastels with me, I photographed it and painted it when I got home.

I spotted this is a little girl standing beside a stucco wall in Ecuador. She was a little shy and appeared curious about all these strange people who had just gotten off the bus. I was struck with her innocence and immediately connected with her as we exchanged glances. I wanted to capture this moment.

I took this photo of my girls many years ago. They were sitting beside a window with light bathing their little bodies on the right side. I photographed them, knowing that some day I would paint this moment. Thirty years later, I did. I struggled with little Amy, but Allyson in pink just jumped onto my canvas with no effort. It was her! How thankful I was, for she died unexpectedly a few weeks later . . . and I had captured her just as I remember her in those sweet early days.

This was another little girl in Ecuador. Her mother, who worked at the place we were staying, dressed her up in the typical Ecuadorian fashion in hopes that some of us would paint her. There were lots of "posed" photographs, but when I saw this one, I realized that it had just captured her personality perfectly. It beckoned to be painted.

I photographed the chickens at a a farm in North Carolina. The strong sunlight falling on them, and the shadows it cast, captured my attention, not to mention the composition of the pair and how they seemed to be mysteriously focused on something "over there." It was destined to be a painting.

This is my little Maggie. I began this painting as a demo on velour since the softness of the surface seemed to echo the texture of her fur. I began with that intensely staring eye. For long time that is what remained on my painting surface. I hated to distract from that gaze that was "so her," but it kept calling me to finish it, and eventually I did.

This scene is so typical of the place we stayed in Ecuador that I wanted to capture it as a remembrance of my trip. It just seemed to need a square format, and I was intrigued with the dappled sunlight on the ground. I love this view looking under the main arch at Hacienda Cusin. I was set up to paint outside on location, and it just painted itself.

Imbabura is the name of this famous mountain in Ecuador. I kept wanting to paint this mountain since it was such a trademark of the region where we were staying. I photographed this from the top of a building, not a good place to bring painting supplies, so I couldn't figure out how to paint this "en plein aire." One evening after an early dinner when I was eager to paint, I pulled up this photo on my laptop, and, in the light of the fireplace, began to paint it. Boy was I surprised when I woke up the next morning and saw it in the daylight. The colors were garish! I softened them a bit but kind of liked the different and interesting colors, and I loved the light and shadows as they cast interesting shapes onto this scene . . . so I left it pretty much like it was.

This is a scene outside my kitchen window. I am fascinated each day as I gaze out the window at the way the sunlight casts ever changing shadows. I photographed it at a moment when the warm green underbrush seemed to glow against the vivid reds in the cool foreground. Need I say more?

Hacienda Cusin. This is what one sees as they enter the grounds of this famous and unique Inn in Ecuador. These three pots are such a focal point as their warm earthy colors contrast against the complimentary greens in the yard. I really wanted a visual memory of this place . . . so I painted it.

When I spotted the composition of these lush bright flowers against this rustic sunlit barn, I had no decision as to what I would paint that morning. I set up my easel quickly, and painted it with gusto. It almost seemed to paint itself. I think the painting shows that I was really intrigued with this subject.

Sometimes, I don't decide what to paint . . . . I just let it happen.

If I am working on an abstract, I often don't begin with a subject in mind. Instead, I begin by choosing certain shapes, textures and colors and manipulating them on my paper until they "evolve" into a pleasing composition and usually with a theme or subject that is somewhat recognizable. The abstract paintings seem to paint themselves! The following pieces of art did just that. Can you see what the shapes, textures and colors evolved into in each painting?