Wishes and Secrets in Hand
I started this painting after seeing an open call for submissions at my local gallery. The prompt was to create art smaller than 12x12 inches. I was drawn to the idea of making something small because I was about to begin work on the next season of a TV show, which would keep me busy for the next eight months. I only had a few days to complete and submit the painting. If it was accepted and sold, it would "prove" to me that I was a good enough artist to succeed on my own terms. So, I quickly chose a reference image and came up with a concept. It was a rushed process.
For the line work, I used a yellow pencil so it would blend into the final red tones I envisioned. I applied the base colors and added a masking medium to preserve the lighter areas. I was experimenting with techniques from ink painting, trying to see if I could use inks on a hard medium instead of paper.
Once the mask was removed, the paler colours underneath shone through. This painting was meant to explore routine and regularity, so I added a repeating pattern in the background that echoed the object held in the hand. This concept would later change.
The painting was ready for the show, and I was excited that it was accepted into a gallery setting for the first time. I had previously shown my art in student galleries, but this felt different. I was nervous about whether it would sell, especially given the unusual subject matter. If it sold, it would be a huge confidence boost.
I packed the painting into my bag and left work early to make sure it arrived at the gallery on time. I loved the energy there—so much beautiful art, and many of the artists seemed as nervous and hopeful as I was. We all shared the same dream: to be accepted as artists, validated by a sale. Because if you’re not paid, you’re just a hobbyist—or at least that’s what I thought at the time. Spoiler alert: it didn’t sell.
Because I was so busy with my day job, I missed the gallery opening night and forgot to send information about it to my email list. I felt like such a fool for missing such an important event. I was so stressed that I overlooked the details in the gallery's communications. It was a real letdown.
I had been picturing the opening night since dropping off the painting. I had an outfit planned. I imagined meeting art collectors and chatting with them. I pictured getting an email from the gallery saying my painting had sold. When I realized I had missed the opening simply because the information had been sent via social media (which I never check), I felt my heart sink. I remember staring at the computer screen after a long workday, thinking how foolish I was.
I did visit the gallery that weekend, though it wasn’t the same. I missed the chance to meet other artists and talk with collectors. I asked a couple there to take a photo of me with my painting, but I felt so sad and alone throughout the experience.
A few weeks later, I decided to rework the painting. Not only was the initial concept rushed, but it now held memories I wanted to change. I removed the varnish, which was a messy process, as I had used inks in some parts of the painting. From this, I learned how to ensure my work's longevity.
I also rethought the concept, considering the feeling I wanted the image to convey. It was at this point that I started sharing the painting process with my email list. I tidied up the areas where the ink had been removed, replacing it with paint and adding underlayers for depth.
I continued building up glazes and began working on the tiny objects in the hand. I wanted them to look otherworldly and magical, drawing inspiration from diatoms.
Adding more fine details was challenging. My brushes only go so small, but I kept layering glazes to achieve the colour and depth I wanted. Finally, the painting was ready for varnish. I was thrilled with how it turned out. It looks beautiful and a bit mysterious. I love how the bright red contrasts with the tiny, mysterious objects.
Working on the painting without a deadline and focusing on the story I wanted to tell was a completely different experience. The first time felt like a job with constant deadlines. This time, finding the visual representations of what I wanted to convey felt honest and true. I am proud of this version, regardless of whether it sells. This is something I want to display on my website.
The painting, "Dreams and Secrets in Hand" represents just that. Can you imagine it in a cozy nook in your home? It's now available in my gallery store.
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