Today was a snow day, luckily I brought home my work, which happened to be stuffing 500 envelopes. All. Day. Long. But honestly, I didn’t mind because I had something to keep me company: a color theory course I had stumbled upon on Facebook.
I’ve been hunting for a solid color theory class, so when I discovered this one…and it was on sale for $9, I practically threw it into my cart. The instructor is Brent Watkinson, and within minutes I felt like I’d struck gold. While my hands were busy shoving papers into envelopes, my brain was soaking up all kinds of useful information about hue, temperature, and color relationships.
The course offered optional exercises, but arrogant me thought, Eh… I’ll skip that. I’ll just paint another still life later and apply what I learned.
Famous last words.
As soon as my envelope-stuffing marathon ended, I rushed up to my studio, buzzing with new knowledge. I set up a still life with lime wedges and a knife and went through the three questions Watkinson recommended before painting:
- Is the image light or dark?
Light. - Is it warm or cool?
…warm? Wait. Is it warm? The knife handle is red but it leans cool… The limes have cool greens… but also some warm greens… Ugh. I had no idea anymore. I picked “warm,” but it was essentially a coin toss. - What is your color plan or scheme?
Complementary: green and red. Easy enough.

Then came the moment everything veered off the rails: mixing the colors.
I could not see color tonight. I struggled with every mixture, doubting every pile of paint on the palette. After 40 minutes I said, “Screw it. Use what you’ve got and mix the rest on the fly.” For the record: I loathe mixing paint. This is precisely why digital painting always felt so magical; I pick a color, and if it doesn’t look right, I grab another one instantly. No mud, no mess, no palette knife needed.
But I’m committed. I’m not giving up. I’ll keep watching the videos, keep painting, and eventually it’s going to click. What I should do…what I will do, is go back to the basics and actually complete the exercises in the course instead of sprinting ahead like an overconfident art gremlin.
So here it is: tonight’s still life. A tiny disaster, but a necessary one. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows, and this painting definitely isn’t, but it’s part of the process.

Next up: exercises, patience, and lots more color mixing. I’ve got paintings inside me that I’m dying to get out, but first I have to master the art of color mixing and color relativity. One snow day meltdown at a time.

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