What Seven Artists Taught Me

After teaching my Mixed Media Magic workshop on Saturday, I’ve been reflecting on something one of the participants posted afterward:

“I’m still comprehending how much we learned. It was great!”

That simple comment made me pause.

Going into the workshop, my goal was to introduce everyone to materials and techniques they might not otherwise explore. We’d learn a technique, I’d demonstrate it, and then everyone would immediately try it themselves before moving on to the next.

By the end of the day, there were a lot of techniques swirling around the room!

At first I wondered if perhaps I’d simply packed too much into one day. Maybe I should teach fewer techniques next time and allow more time for each one to sink in?

But the more I’ve reflected, the more I realized the real lesson wasn’t about the techniques at all.

Most people came hoping to learn how to use mixed media to create rich, layered paintings. What they discovered is that layered painting isn’t just a collection of techniques—it’s a completely different mindset.

One of the hardest things to do is to stop falling in love with the early layers.

Actually, I take that back.

It's wonderful to fall in love. To be delighted by what's showing up. That's the fun part of creating! So pause for a moment and enjoy it... then take a deep breath and be willing to let it go.

A beautiful texture appears. An interesting collage element catches your eye. A passage of color feels just right. Every instinct says, "Don't cover that up."

Yet that's exactly what layered painting asks us to do.

Those early marks aren’t the destination. They’re the conversation that leads to the next mark… and then the next. Sometimes the painting actually becomes less beautiful for a while before it becomes more beautiful. There are moments when the direction isn’t obvious, and you simply have to trust that another layer will reveal something you couldn’t yet see.

Watching everyone work reminded me that this is probably the biggest hurdle in mixed media. It isn’t learning how to use acrylic inks, stencils, or the gelli plate. It’s learning to trust the process enough to let go of what already exists in order to discover what wants to emerge next.

Eventually, after enough layers, enough curiosity, and enough willingness to keep going, something shifts.

The painting begins to tell you where it wants to go.

And then, almost quietly, there’s a moment when you realize

… you’ve arrived.

I think that’s the real magic of mixed media.