The Painting Doesn't Always Care About the Plan

Sometimes, despite your best efforts in composition, layout, color theory, and design, your painting laughs in your face and says no.

What do you do when that happens?

For me, I've learned that being flexible is key. I don't always need to have everything line up within rigid constraints. Sometimes I need to give myself permission to play first and figure out how to make everything work together afterward.

When I first started painting the Queens for my tarot deck, I had a very specific structure in mind. Each would have a circular background carved into the wall behind her, a throne, and a woman in an intricate dress that faded at the bottom into the flooring, making her feel almost like part of the environment. Each Queen would also represent a different culture.

Then I got to the Queen of Wands and she completely confused me.

I wanted to play with the kinds of fantasy costumes I see in Chinese and Korean dramas, with layers and layers of sheer, flowing fabric and delicate scarves. The problem was figuring out how to make all of that fabric look right while still having the dress disappear into the environment the way I'd originally planned.

I thought about it for a long time. Then I remembered a watercolor technique I've always wanted to play with. There are watercolor paintings of flowers built from extremely light, translucent layers. Instead of defining every petal with a drawn edge, the overlapping washes create the forms. I wondered if I could do something similar with fabric.

Wonderful watercolor artist Olga Koelsch

You can view Olga's video here

There was an immediate problem: if I did that, the bottom of the Queen's skirt would need much more definition than I'd originally intended. I decided to try it anyway. If it didn't fit with the other Queens when I was finished, I would figure that out later. For now, trying it was the important part.

Because part of the experiment was allowing the paint to do what it wanted on the paper, I didn't draw the bottom of the dress at all. I started laying down areas of water and paint and let those determine where the skirt would end.

That also completely reversed my painting process.

With the Queen of Swords and Queen of Cups, I'd painted the backgrounds first to establish their textures, then brought the figures out from there. With the Queen of Wands, the dress began determining the painting instead. I didn't plan it. I let the paint go. I even experimented with adding small pencil textures of leaves between the watercolor layers, just to see what would happen when another translucent layer went over the top and partially obscured the pencil work.

Only after the dress was finished did I step back, compare the Queen of Wands with the other two Queens, and start troubleshooting. How could I make something created with such a different process still belong with them?

That's where the original design stopped being a set of rules and became a toolbox. I knew there was still a fourth Queen to come, so I didn't worry too much about the drastic change in color. I added purple accents to the Queen of Wands because I already knew the fourth Queen would contain purples. That would give those two paintings a visual connection. I made the background light to connect her to the Queen of Cups. Then I textured that background in a way that related more closely to the Queen of Swords.

Instead of forcing the Queen of Wands backward into the original plan, I looked for the things the paintings could share. That allowed me to bridge the visual gap between the three pieces while still leaving room for the fourth Queen to complete the group.

That's the important part for me. I gave myself permission to play first. Then I worked on bridging the gaps. It's how I approach drastically different techniques, mediums, subjects, and styles. I don't necessarily start by asking how I can force one thing to behave like another. I start with what works for each piece. Then I look for the places where they already have something in common and use those connections to bring them together.

And right now, with only three Queens finished, they don't quite look like a complete set.

That's okay.

They're not complete.

They're waiting for the final Queen.