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Every artist has that go-to thing, whether it be a technique, a tool, a color palette, or a style. It's a sure thing, rooted in our innate talent, something we've mastered over the years, something that rarely, if ever, fails to deliver for us. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right? Well, yes and no.

It's all too easy to get cozy in the comfort zone, doing what you know best and sticking with it. And if it's working for you, fantastic. Of course you should run with it. But what if you could take that go-to thing to another level? What if you discover that you have not one seriously cool go-to talent, but two…or three, or four! Imagine the possibilities. You probably already have, and maybe you were daunted by the same question that plagued me. How do I get off the artistic couch and add more go-to things to my list? How do I branch out?

The answer, as I have learned, is beautifully simple…play.

Though I'm formally trained and have gained much knowledge through experience over the years, the most invaluable things have come from my own experimentation. I've learned to embrace the inner child, that creative kid inside us all, who dares to think outside the box. My son, ever the creative child, continues to impress and inspire me with the things he creates. Early on, it started with finger painting. Sure, he knew the marks his fingers left, but what about his elbows? Or his hair? He just had know. His discovery process was messy, but I couldn't help but appreciate how his mind worked and smile with pride. Even now, he can take any item, literally anything, and find a way to incorporate it into his elaborate lego battle scene…complete with backstory. When I watch and listen to his vivid descriptions about how this leftover bit of cheap plastic packaging fit into the world he had conjured in his magnificent little head, I'm in awe. Perspective is everything.

If you're feeling the urge to branch out and don't know where to start, make a list of your process, including your medium, tools, colors, technique, etc. Pick anything on that list and do something radically different. Experiment. You'll be surprised at the things you never knew you could create, and the out-of-the-box ways you can create them. Here are some suggestions to get you going:

#1 - Rethink your tools.
Paintbrushes, palette knives, pencils, erasers, blenders. The purpose of these things is to make a certain kind of mark on canvas or paper. If you think of it like that, everything starts looking like something that could make a mark on the canvas. I mean everything. Bamboo skewers (if you've read my blog "The Texturizer 5000", you know this is one of my favs!), drinking straws, spoons, forks, q-tips, toothpicks, shoelaces, bits of carpet remnants, combs, sandpaper, rocks, a crumpled up piece of tin foil, the bottom of my coffee mug…you get the point. They all make their own unique mark, and there's only one way to find out what that mark looks like…experiment!

#2 - Rethink your technique.
Whatever method you naturally gravitate toward, ditch it. If your pencil art tends to be well-blended or realistic, create something with a cross-hatch shading effect, or with stippling. You will have the urge to blend. You must resist. If you're a painter, try using a small object with an interesting shape to stamp the canvas, rather than use a brush (this will force you not to blend).

#3 - Rethink your color palette.
What color palettes do you typically choose? Blues, reds, warm tones, cool tones, darks, lights? Pick colors you've never painted with before. Are your pencil drawings light-handed, with a more delicate approach? Make bolder marks and create more contrast. Push yourself farther.

#4 - Rethink your subject matter.
What kinds of things do you usually depict? Do you prefer still life? Try the human figure or something abstract instead. Choose something you've never tried to illustrate before.

#5 - Rethink your medium.
Look at the list you created of the media you regularly use, and create something using absolutely none of them. If you prefer pencil drawing, try painting. If you're a painter, try experimenting with texture or a mixed media approach.

#6 - Rethink your surface.
If you usually draw on paper or illustration board, try drawing on vellum (a lovely, smooth, waterproof surface, great for mixing wet and dry media). Try a black coated scratchboard or black primed canvas and work in reverse. Draw or paint on a wood panel or a piece of glass. Anything new. Seeing the pattern here?

#7 - Rethink your perspective.
This can be difficult, as most of us are set in our ways. Practice thinking outside the box on a regular basis. Come up with a new, unintended use for a common item. Look at a room or object from an upside-down position (things look strangely different). Draw with your eyes closed or squinted. Draw your subject matter as an x-ray image. Do anything that makes you look at something in a whole new way. The only limits are the ones we create for ourselves.

Resist the urge to fall back into your comfort zone when experimenting. Remember, the idea is to branch out, not hang out in the treehouse. Experimentation leads to greater knowledge, greater skill, and a more well-rounded (and more marketable) artist. It's not about coloring outside the lines, it's about redrawing the lines altogether, breaking your own boundaries, and discovering all that you're capable of. Don't be afraid to make mistakes or create something ugly…that's where the best lessons are learned.

When I was applying for colleges, my parents, who knew my passion for art and creativity runs deep, encouraged me toward a career in Graphic Design. They figured it was in the art field so it would satisfy my creative side, but "at least you won't be a starving artist". That is my first memory of hearing that phrase. I knew they were looking out for me…what parents want their child to be poor and unsuccessful? But instead, what they were essentially telling me is that being a professional artist is a road that leads to an empty wallet and a bare refrigerator. At the time, it seemed like pretty sound advice, and I took it. While I'm very grateful for the success I've had as a designer, given all the knowledge I have now and the opportunity to chat with that pre-college girl, I'd have given her a very different pep talk.

The starving artist. We've all heard the term, and most would swiftly apply it to any artist trying to earn a living selling their work, regardless of their actual financial situation or level of success. The general consensus is that artists are destined to be poor and hungry, that success in art cannot be attained…until you die, of course, at which point your work is worth much more, right? The art world has its various levels of failures and successes, just as any other profession.

There are many artists out there that do quite well. Perhaps not by comparison to famous artists like Picasso or Renoir, but why is every artist immediately subjected to such a comparative measure of success? That's just silliness. We don't compare all writers to William Shakespeare and deem them to be inadequate and destined to be unsuccessful in their lifetime because their work is not equally popular. We don't seem to do this with other professions. Why do we apply this standard only to artists?

Is it partly because artists tend to be misjudged by their counterparts, who lack an understanding of what it means to be a creative individual? Probably. Let's face it, most of us are rather quirky in our own unique ways. Could it also be because some people who lack artistic ability don't see the level of knowledge and skill involved when it comes to conceptualism, drawing, painting, etc? "My 5 year old could've done that." Sure, that too. Whatever the reason for this myth to have continued so long, it's time to stop feeding into it by using the term "starving artist". Starve it. Replace it with "working artists", because each one of us has the opportunity to work hard and make a successful career doing what we were born to do…create.

If you are a creative soul, and you really want to make a living creating and selling art, YOU CAN. No catch. Just like any other career path, and every other area of life, you get out what you put in. Do your homework, come up with a solid business plan, and go for it. Yes, a business plan, because being an artist means working for yourself, so you'll need to brush up on your business chops. There are endless outlets for artists to sell their work online and beyond, especially with today's level of technology and communication.

The only obstacles we have are those we give ourselves. So if creating art is your passion, join us, the working artists, in putting food on the table, doing what we love every day.

Of all the qualities that an artist should have when painting, I've learned that patience is one of the most important. It's also one I totally lack when painting, so it often takes conscious effort for me to stop tinkering and leave it alone. "Put the brush down. Walk away. It needs to dry first. Ugh, but I need to…NO! Walk away!" Or, when I'm varnishing, it's all too tempting to just shave a little off the drying time so you can get all the coats on sooner and finally call it finished. Luckily, I've always been more of a "do it right the first time so you don't have to do it again" kinda girl. And so I wait.

There's a lot of drying time involved when working with texture applications, paint, isolation, and varnish coats, all of which I use regularly in my artwork. It's like waiting for cold water to boil…plus 4 to 48 hours…multiplied by 5+. A fan to help increase drying time? That's a no-no. Not only does it blow dust onto the wet surface of the work, but drying things too quickly can change the behavior and finish of certain materials. You just have to wait.

When a creative person digs into a project, there is often a strong compulsion to work until the creation is finished. For me, this is certainly true, hence my lack of patience for drying time. But, it's a necessary evil, and like it or not, I wait. That's where process comes in for me. I like to know ahead of time for that week what I want to accomplish and how much drying time is involved. Drying time is down time, so I generally have several works in progress at the same time, in various stages.

I'll spend a day applying the texture medium to a few paintings at a time. Depending on the application technique and the thickness of the medium, this stage can take days to fully dry. But of course, I'll have already completed this stage with another batch, which is now completely dry and ready for the second stage, paint.

This is where I know I can cruise for a while and focus on bringing color to my visions. When one is painted, I can move on to the next while that dries. No brainer. If I get stuck on the direction of a painting, I can set it aside, move on to another, and come back to it with fresh eyes. When I get to the last painting, I move on to applying the isolation coat to each, then on to the varnish coats. The varnish stage is admittedly my least favorite. You have to work quickly and accurately with varnish. It takes longer to clean the brush after varnishing than it does to actually apply the varnish coat to a painting. That I'm ok with. Each coat needs a minimum of 4-6 hours of drying time, with a bare minimum of 2 coats per painting. So much waiting…sigh.

However, since I'll already have a batch done that's now dry, I move on to applying the backing and hanging hardware while the latest varnish coats dry, or move on to the texture application on the next batch. Rinse, lather, repeat.

This process has worked well for me, quelling my impatience by always keeping something in the chain ready to go, and I never feel my days are monotonous because of the variety of tasks. It also gives me a fail-safe on creative block, letting me stay productive and focus my attention elsewhere for a bit. Finding a process that works with my strengths and weaknesses has allowed me to really enjoy working on my creations. With any luck, I'll be able to expand my studio soon, and maybe the square footage I have for drying will finally be able to keep up with my ideas for new paintings. Probably not ;)

If you've read the descriptions for my paintings, you've probably seen me refer to them as having an "isolation coat" and minimum of 2 coats of varnish. If you've asked, "What the heck is an isolation coat and why should I care how many coats of varnish it has?", this post is for you.

Over time, things get dusty and dingy. Works of art are no exception, no matter how high the quality of materials used. Time takes its toll. The surface of acrylic paintings attracts dust, especially when textured (as mine usually are). At some point, original paintings all need to be cleaned, whether it's a regular dusting or a thorough cleaning over the years.

A painting with no isolation or varnish coat is completely exposed to the elements. That means the paint itself is what collects dust and gets dingy over time. Any cleaning agent would be applied directly to the surface of the paint itself, which could cause damage to the art.

I'm going to skip to the varnish coat first. The varnish coat is what gives the painting its final sheen, matte or glossy. It also serves as a layer between the elements (air, etc) and the paint itself. The varnish takes on all the wear-and-tear, while the painting remains protected. A varnished surface is far easier to clean and leaves far less risk of damaging the actual painting.

"But if the varnish gets dingy over time, doesn't that still ruin the look of the painting?"
And that's where the isolation coat comes in.

Before the varnish is applied to a finished acrylic painting, an isolation coat should be applied. There are 3 layers…paint on the bottom, isolation coat in the middle, and the varnish on the top. When the varnish has aged to the point where it needs some restoration (we're talking decades), the dingy varnish coat can be removed without disturbing the paint layer. The isolation coat serves as a barrier, more or less, allowing old varnish to be safely removed and new varnish applied.

Even with an isolation coat, restoring artwork is a very delicate process, so please consult an art restoration professional before attempting it as your next DIY weekend project!

There are endless tools out there that provide all different kinds of textures, from brushes to palette knives and more. But, with a little ingenuity, it's not too difficult to simply make what you need.

While creating Sway, I was in need of a tool that would allow me to draw in the texture medium in a comb-like way. Except I wanted more control, to be able to vary these parallel lines with the tilt of my wrist. I needed a device that worked more like a sharpened pencil, with the flexibility to draw with a fine point, and when used at an angle, give a broader stroke. Try googling THAT and finding the right tool. I bid you good luck.

After reviewing all the random items I had on hand in my studio and the house, I had gathered a small pile of items. Wooden skewers (the kind with one pointy end and one flat end) and duct tape (rainbow duct tape, to be exact). I had a plan.

I lined up a row of bamboo skewers about 2-3" wide, then arranged them so that they alternated flat end, pointy end. I pushed the flat ends of each skewer toward the center, leaving the pointy ends on either side with space in between. I had a double-sided "comb". Now I needed that added bit of pencil-style control. I adjusted each pointy end so that as a group they came to a point. A little duct tape and moments later, the Texturizer 5000 was born. And it rocks.

Of all the tools I have at my disposal, this has been one of my favorites. It's not glamorous, but it gets the job done well. Besides, I like to think the rainbow duct tape adds a happy touch. But it's certainly a very handy tool to have if you enjoy working with impasto and other texture mediums, as I do. I'm fairly sure there will be variations of the Texturizer 5000 in the future. Because it's quite fantastic, if I do say so myself. ;)

Artists can be fussy people. We have a vision of something we wish to create…but things don't always go according to plan. Sometimes it feels worth the effort to keep plugging away to bring that vision to life, and other times you just ditch it and start over. But why throw out the whole canvas? "Reduce, reuse, recycle." My son has heard me say it a thousand times.

Artists have been recycling canvases and painting over artwork for centuries for various reasons, some of which are still unknown. In recent years, experts have found another painting beneath Pablo Picasso's "The Blue Room". If you look closely, sometimes you can almost see the painting beneath. You can read more about that hidden gem and a few others here: http://gizmodo.com/5-lost-images-found-hidden-beneath-famous-paintings-1592796080

Before Sway, I had a different concept of how that canvas was going to progress. It would be a glorious, palette-knifed, cascading wall of metallic awesomeness. Except it wasn't. Not at all. Even in that first stage of creation, one coat down, I knew that this just wasn't the right canvas for this idea. I was going about it all wrong. Being a big believer in following my instinct, I took notes on a new method for that wall of metallic awesomeness, and I set the concept aside for another day, another canvas.

Now I had this 24" x 48" gallery-wrapped canvas…a beauty of a large canvas, excluding what I had done to make it so visually unappealing. Despite so many ideas and sketches to choose from, I was compelled to just wing it. Maybe I was feeling once-bitten-twice-shy about having my prior vision not pan out. Or maybe my instinct was telling me to go with the flow. And so I flowed.

With my trusty graphite stick in hand, I began sketching on the canvas, over my previous attempt until all I could see was the new vision of what it could be. I needed just the right tool for this texture, so being the creative problem-solver I am, I made my own. (DIY geeks, unite!) I call it the Texturizer 5000, and it worked like a charm. I'll share more about my handy dandy new "invention" in another blog.

I frosted the surface of that canvas like a giant sheet cake, and with the Texturizer 5000, I made the waves flow into a 3D version of the pencil sketch below it. No more metallic massacre, just white, flowing waves waiting to be brought to life with color.

While I find sketching and planning out a piece of art is important, there are times when an artist just needs to let go of it all and go with the flow. This was one of those paintings for me, and it happens to be one of my favorites. The process of sketching and applying texture were so similar…both a very calming and peaceful experience. In fact, while working on both phases, I found myself smiling and slowly swaying back and forth over the canvas as I worked…hence its name, Sway.