Beyond the Bloom: The Art of Letting Go

By Cheryl Wilson | The Intentional Artist®

What two abstract floral paintings can teach us about creativity, connection, and the beauty of original art.

There is a moment in almost every painting when I have to make a decision.

Do I continue trying to control what is happening on the canvas, or do I trust the marks I've made and allow the painting to become something unexpected?

It is a question I face often in my studio. And, if I'm being reflective, it is a question I've faced many times in life. Perhaps that is why I love abstract painting.

It invites me to relinquish perfection, embrace uncertainty, and discover beauty in places I might otherwise overlook.

In my latest YouTube video, Paint 2 Bold Abstract Florals With Me, I invite you into my studio as I create two expressive floral paintings, exploring color, movement, and intuitive mark-making.

Whether you're an artist interested in the creative process or a collector drawn to original artwork, I believe there is something meaningful to discover in watching a painting come to life.

It Begins With Color, But It Doesn't End There

Color is often the first thing that draws our attention to a painting.

For an artist, selecting a palette is an exercise in relationships. How will one color influence another? Where should contrast appear? When does a painting need more harmony, and when does it need an unexpected interruption?

For someone viewing the finished work, those same choices create an entirely different experience.

A deep, moody color might evoke reflection. A sudden burst of warmth might suggest energy or optimism. A quiet neutral passage can offer a moment of visual rest.

We may not consciously recognize why certain color combinations move us, but we often feel their effect.

That is what fascinates me about painting.

The artist makes decisions with color, but the viewer experiences those decisions through emotion.

The Freedom of an Imperfect Flower

When I paint abstract florals, I'm not trying to reproduce nature with photographic accuracy.

I'm more interested in capturing the essence of a flower.

Its movement. Its fragility. Its unpredictable beauty.

Sometimes that means allowing a stem to disappear beneath another layer. Sometimes it means introducing a bold mark that disrupts an otherwise gentle composition.

For artists watching my video, I hope these moments offer permission to experiment, take chances, and move beyond the need for a perfect result.

For those who appreciate and collect art, these same marks reveal something important about an original painting.

They are evidence of an individual hand, a particular moment, and a creative decision that cannot be replicated exactly.

What an artist experiences as freedom, a collector may experience as individuality.

And somewhere between those two experiences, the painting begins to find its voice.

The Marks We Leave Behind

My work has become increasingly influenced by memory, emotion, and the marks that life leaves upon us.

I frequently build paintings in layers, allowing earlier decisions to remain partially visible beneath newer ones. A line may disappear, only to emerge again through a translucent veil. A passage of color might be covered, scraped back, or transformed by something unexpected.

These techniques are part of my visual language. But they also reflect something I have come to understand about life.

We are all layered.

Our experiences don't disappear simply because we move forward. They become part of who we are.

Perhaps that is why I am drawn to paintings that reveal some evidence of their own history.

I want a viewer to sense that something existed before the final surface.

A memory.

A change.

A moment of uncertainty.

Or perhaps simply the courage to begin again.

When the Painting Leaves the Studio

One of the most interesting things about creating art is that the meaning of a painting doesn't stop with the artist.

I may create a work while thinking about a particular memory or emotion, but someone else may experience it entirely differently.

An abstract floral might remind one person of a garden they once loved. Another may be drawn to its strength, movement, or unexpected colors.

Someone else may simply find that the painting brings a sense of energy or calm into their home.

I love that.

I don't want my interpretation to become the only interpretation.

The painting may begin with my story, but it has room to become part of yours.

This is something I hope both artists and collectors remember. The person who creates the work gives it a beginning. The person who lives with it gives it another life.

Why I Share My Process

When I began sharing my painting process on YouTube, I wanted to encourage other artists to experiment, explore their creativity, and become more confident in their individual artistic voices. That remains important to me.

I enjoy sharing color combinations, painting techniques, composition choices, and the little discoveries that happen unexpectedly along the way.

But I've also come to appreciate what these videos can offer people who may never pick up a paintbrush.

They provide a glimpse into the creative decisions behind original artwork.

A finished painting may appear effortless, but its surface often carries layers of exploration, revision, and instinct. Watching that process can change how we see the finished piece. Suddenly, a bold line isn't just a line.

It is a decision.

A covered passage isn't simply background.

It is part of the painting's history.

And a flower is no longer necessarily just a flower.

It may become an expression of resilience, freedom, joy, or memory.

An Invitation to Look a Little Closer

In this video, you'll watch two bold abstract floral paintings develop through the creative process.

If you're an artist, I hope you'll enjoy experimenting with the colors and ideas in your own studio. I also share a free color-mixing guide to help you explore the palette.

If you love original art, I hope you'll enjoy seeing the moments behind the finished painting—the choices that give it texture, character, and individuality.

And regardless of which brought you here, I hope you'll remember something.

Art doesn't require us all to see the same thing.

It invites us to feel, question, imagine, and discover something uniquely our own.

I paint what the soul remembers. And sometimes, the soul remembers in flowers.

Thank you for stepping into my studio.

— Cheryl Wilson The Intentional Artist®

Watch the video:https://youtu.be/Lcl82vEad0g

Discover original artwork:https://www.cherylwilsonart.com/