Lessons from the Canvas: What Painting Taught Me About Patience and Life
I have always said that art is a part of me. When I set aside my creativity, I feel as though I am losing an opportunity to truly live. Art has always been my way of breathing, reflecting, and understanding myself.
So today, let me once again share some lessons from art—how patience through painting has quietly translated into where I am now, and how the canvas continues to mirror my life decisions.
The Canvas Is an Honest Teacher
Whenever I look at a blank canvas, I feel refreshed and excited about how it might turn out. That moment of possibility is deeply comforting. This is why, whenever I feel stressed or overwhelmed by life’s challenges, I go back to basics—emptying my thoughts and my heart, and allowing myself to start anew.
The canvas teaches us to clear our muddied minds and to see the world with childlike openness. A child, they say, is tabula rasa—a blank slate. What we place on that empty surface determines how the story unfolds. In painting, what we feed the canvas—values, colors, themes, and intention—shapes the outcome.
In the same way, the elements we allow into our lives influence how our own image of life develops.
Waiting for Paint to Dry Taught Me About Patience
In creating a piece, I cannot always apply all the colors and layers in one sitting—especially when working with oil paint. Often, I have to wait for the paint to dry before adding more vibrant layers. If I rush and keep painting wet on wet, the colors may turn dull and muddy.
Of course, there are artists who master the wet-on-wet technique beautifully. But for many of us, that skill requires time and discipline. Patience is born from the desire for a better outcome. It is essential in developing artistic skill, and just as necessary in life.
Through painting, I learned that patience is not passive waiting—it is an intentional pause rooted in trust. Truly, patience is a virtue learned slowly, layer by layer.
Mistakes in Painting Resemble Life’s Wrong Turns
There are moments when I step back from a painting and feel that the finish is not right. I return to it again and again, yet still feel unsettled by the outcome. Sometimes, the elements feel noisy or overly busy—much like my painting “The Orbs.”
Each element in that work is symbolic of something I wanted to express. Yet perhaps I made the wrong choices in color composition, or failed to create a natural flow that matched my original intention.
When I encounter mistakes like these, I stop. I do not erase them. These errors resemble life’s wrong turns—moments when judgment falters, when decisions do not lead where we hoped. Looking at this painting now reminds me that I do not always make the right choices, and that awareness itself is a lesson.
These mistakes teach me how to respond more wisely in similar situations in the future. I learned from them, and I continue to learn.
A Reflection on The Orbs
One painting that continues to teach me is The Orbs. At first glance, it feels crowded—almost noisy—with too many elements competing for attention. Yet, each orb carries a meaning I once held strongly, each color a thought or emotion I was unwilling to release. Looking at it now, I realize it mirrors a season in my life when everything felt urgent and unresolved at the same time. Instead of correcting it, I chose to keep the painting as it is. It reminds me that there are moments when clarity does not arrive immediately, and that unfinishedness itself can be a form of truth.
Knowing When to Correct—and When to Let Go
After realizing that the result was not what I intended, I chose to stop. I could have repainted the canvas white and reused it—but I didn’t. There is something about this piece that I cannot let go of.
The painting is still with me. It has never been sold. Perhaps others see it the way I do—as imperfect, unresolved, an error. And yet, it holds meaning. It captures a moment of honesty that feels too important to erase.
Art Therapy Insight: Observing Without Judgment
Professional artists often say that there is no wrong painting and no ugly work of art. Art is self-expression, and just like people, every piece has its own unique qualities.
In art therapy reflections, the practice is not about judging the outcome but about observing with compassion—allowing the process to speak before the result. We do not always know the intent or emotion behind a piece—and that, too, deserves respect. The artist has the right to express what needs to surface, even if it feels uncomfortable or unfinished.
Growth happens when we stop forcing outcomes. In art, flow is essential. Working from the heart—rather than from pressure or fear—is what leads to meaningful creation.
Your work, as an artist or as a person, will find its rightful place. There is no need to rush or force success. Showcase your work. Allow it to breathe. Who knows—it may be the next piece that finds a home, or it may quietly become part of your personal collection of lessons learned.
I will be writing another article dedicated entirely to The Orbs—exploring what it continues to teach me, and how we can learn from paintings that resist resolution. This reflection will be part of a future series on unfinished truths and emotional density in art, where I hope to explore how complexity, discomfort, and imperfection can become quiet teachers in both art and life.
Author’s Note
I write this reflection at a season when I am learning to slow down—to listen more carefully to both my art and my life. Returning to the canvas has reminded me that not everything needs to be resolved immediately, and that some lessons arrive only when we allow ourselves to pause. Through these writings, I hope to share not answers, but honest moments—where art becomes a quiet companion in understanding patience, imperfection, and grace.
