One of the questions I get most often — whether at shows, on Instagram, or in commission conversations — is “How do you actually paint one of these?” It’s a fair question. A finished watercolor can look effortless, like the colors just fell into the right place. In reality, every painting involves dozens of decisions, some planning, and a healthy dose of trust in the medium.
Here’s a walk through my process, from the first spark of an idea to the final signature.
Finding the Subject
Most of my paintings start with something I’ve seen in the world. A particular quality of light on the water. Peonies that are so pink they don’t look real. The way my dog sprawls across the floor in a sunbeam. I’m constantly noticing moments and filing them away.
Sometimes I work from photographs I’ve taken — I have thousands on my phone, many of them terrible, but they hold the seed of the moment I want to paint. Other times I work from life, especially for still life setups and quick plein air sketches when I’m outdoors.
For commissions, the process is collaborative. The client provides reference photos and describes what they want, and I spend time studying the images before I touch paper — looking for the composition, the light, the emotional core of the scene.
Preparing the Paper
I paint on 100% cotton watercolor paper, typically 140lb cold press from Arches or Fabriano. The slight texture of cold press paper is ideal for the way I work — it holds water and pigment well and creates interesting effects as the paint settles into the surface.
For larger pieces, I stretch the paper by soaking it briefly and then taping it to a rigid board with gummed tape. This prevents the paper from buckling and warping as it gets wet during painting. For smaller pieces, the heavyweight paper is usually stiff enough to work flat without stretching.
The Light Pencil Sketch
I almost always do a very light pencil drawing on the paper before I paint. This isn’t a detailed rendering — it’s more like a map. I’m establishing the major shapes, the composition, and the placement of key elements. The lines are so faint that they’ll disappear under the paint. I use a hard pencil (4H or 6H) with an extremely light touch.
Some watercolorists skip the pencil entirely and paint directly. I admire that approach, but for my work — especially landscapes and commissions — having that skeletal guide keeps me grounded when the paint starts flowing.
First Washes: Light to Dark
This is where the magic starts. Watercolor works from light to dark — you build from the lightest values to the darkest, because you can always go darker but you can’t go lighter. The white of the paper is your lightest value, so any area you want to keep white needs to be protected from the beginning.
My first washes are large, loose, and wet. I load a big round brush with diluted color and lay in the major areas — the sky, the water, the background. At this stage, I’m working wet-on-wet, letting the colors blend and bleed into each other on the paper. This is the stage where watercolor does what it does best: surprise you. The pigments interact in ways you can’t fully predict, and some of the most beautiful effects in the finished painting happen in these first few minutes.
Building Layers
After the first wash dries completely — and patience here is critical, because painting on damp paper when you need it dry will create muddy, undefined results — I begin layering additional washes. Each layer adds depth, contrast, and detail.
This glazing process is slow and deliberate. I might do three or four layers on a single painting, waiting for each to dry before adding the next. The cumulative effect of transparent layers is what gives watercolor its depth — you’re looking through multiple veils of color, each one modifying the ones beneath it.
Adding Detail and Definition
In the later stages, I switch to smaller brushes and more concentrated pigment to add the details that bring the painting to life — the branches of a tree, the texture of granite, the glint of light on water, the individual petals of a flower.
I also add the darkest values at this stage. Strong darks are what make a watercolor painting feel complete — they anchor the composition and make the lights sing by contrast. It takes confidence to commit to dark values in watercolor because they’re essentially permanent, but a painting without sufficient contrast will always feel washed out and unfinished.
Knowing When to Stop
This might be the hardest part of the entire process. Watercolor rewards restraint. Every experienced watercolorist has ruined a painting by adding one more wash, one more detail, one more touch that tipped the balance from expressive to overworked.
I’ve learned — sometimes the hard way — to stop painting before I think I’m done. I’ll set a painting aside, leave the studio, and come back to it with fresh eyes. If it holds together from across the room and makes me feel what I felt when I first saw the subject, it’s finished.
Finishing Touches
Once the painting is fully dry, I sign it in pencil or ink in the lower corner. If there are any areas where the paper has buckled slightly, I’ll flatten it under weighted boards for a day or two. Then the painting is photographed for my website, catalog, and social media, and prepared for sale or delivery.
For originals going to collectors, I include a signed certificate of authenticity with details about the painting — title, medium, size, date, and a few words about the inspiration.
Every Painting Is Different
I want to be honest: this process looks different every time. Some paintings flow from start to finish in a single session — maybe two hours of focused work where everything just clicks. Others take days, with long pauses for drying and rethinking and occasionally starting over entirely.
That unpredictability is what keeps me coming back. Watercolor is not a medium you ever fully master. You learn its tendencies, you develop your skills, and then you show up and collaborate with the paint. The best paintings always feel like they were made by the two of us — me and the medium — working together.
See the Finished Work
Ready to see what comes out of this process? Browse my original watercolor paintings — every one of them was made using the approach described here. And if you’d like to learn more about the medium itself, read my companion piece: What Is Watercolor Painting? Everything You Need to Know.
