Learning to Paint in Layers, Trusting the Process, and Rediscovering Wonder

Acrylic on Canvas | 16" x 20"

Where the Garden Sings, the finished acrylic painting by Wendy Molinaroli, with a bird, butterflies, and colorful flowers

Well, here she is! My second painting for the Mastery Program at Milan Art Institute, and I have to tell you, I am absolutely delighted with how she turned out!

I've titled this one "Where the Garden Sings", and I think the name captures the feeling I was hoping to create. A little bird perched among a glorious tangle of flowers, butterflies fluttering about, and all those wonderful colors coming together in a garden that feels alive. I can almost hear the birds singing!

But what makes this painting particularly special to me is not just the finished piece. It's everything I learned while creating it. And believe me, there were moments when I wondered whether it was ever going to come together!

Learning Something New: Thin to Thick

As I've mentioned before, I am a self-taught artist. While that has allowed me to explore and figure things out on my own, it also means there are so many techniques I have never been formally taught.

And that is exactly why I enrolled in the Mastery Program!

For this painting, we were learning a technique called thin to thick, which involves building a painting in layers, beginning with very thin applications of paint and gradually working toward thicker, more opaque layers.

And here's something else: Nothing was pre-drawn!

No tracing, no carefully outlined bird or flowers waiting to be filled in. Everything developed directly on the canvas as I painted.

Now, for someone who has spent years drawing and working in watercolor, this is quite a different approach!

Finding the Painting in the Layers

The first two layers involved techniques called subtractive painting and blocking in.

I began with watered-down acrylic paint, establishing the composition, shapes, and values. Subtractive painting involves removing some of that wet paint to reveal lighter areas and help develop the image. Blocking in allowed me to establish the larger shapes and areas of color before getting caught up in the details.

And believe me, I do love my details!

Early layers of Where the Garden Sings on the easel, with loose flower shapes and a lightly blocked-in bird
The early layers: finding the shapes before the details.

I have to admit, there were moments when I had my doubts. Looking at those early layers, it was difficult to imagine how all those loose shapes and washes of color would eventually become a beautiful garden. There were times when I wondered whether I was actually going to pull this off!

But that was perhaps the most important lesson of this painting: learning to trust the process.

I had to resist the temptation to fix everything immediately, to add details before the painting was ready for them, and to judge the work before it was finished. I had to remind myself that each layer had a purpose, even when I couldn't yet see where it was taking me.

That is not necessarily an easy thing for me to do!

From there, I moved into glazing, applying transparent layers of color to build depth, richness, and subtle transitions. Finally came the opaque layers, where I could bring out the highlights, define the flowers, develop the bird's beautiful feathers, and add those finishing touches that make everything come alive.

And then, almost magically, things began to come together.

The flowers took shape, the bird emerged, the butterflies found their places, and the garden began to sing.

What a wonderful feeling that was!

Where the Garden Sings in progress on the easel, with richer flower colors and emerging bird details
The garden begins to take shape, one layer at a time.

Oh, Those Colors!

I think one of my favorite things about this piece is the color.

The turquoise and soft greens in the background play against the pinks, purples, and fiery oranges of the flowers. And then there are those little red-and-black butterflies!

I loved creating the delicate petals, the bird's feather patterns, and the tiny details that might not be immediately apparent when you first look at the painting.

I've included some close-up photographs so you can see the brushwork and layers of color. Up close, you can really appreciate how the paint builds upon itself, sometimes allowing the underlying colors and even the texture of the canvas to show through.

Close-up of layered pink and purple flower petals and visible brushstrokes
Layers of pink and purple bring the petals to life.
Close-up of a red-and-black butterfly above purple buds, showing paint layers and canvas texture
A closer look at a little red-and-black butterfly.
Close-up of green leaves and turquoise paint layers at the signed lower corner of the canvas
Underlying colors and canvas texture peek through the final layers.

There is something so satisfying about that.

And I think what fascinates me most is that some of those early layers, the ones I was so uncertain about, are part of what gives the finished painting its depth and character. Had I tried to make everything perfect from the very beginning, I might have lost some of the wonderful things that emerged along the way.

Imagine that!

Discovering What I Can Do

Perhaps the most exciting part of this journey is realizing that I am capable of doing things I didn't know I could do.

With my first Mastery Program painting, Macaw in Flight, I surprised myself. And now, with Where the Garden Sings, I feel that same excitement all over again.

I am learning to loosen up, trust my eye, correct things as I go, and allow a painting to develop rather than trying to control every little detail from the beginning.

That last part may take some practice! 😊

I think one of the challenges of learning something new, particularly as an adult, is allowing yourself to be a beginner. There is that uncomfortable space between what you envision and what you are actually seeing on the canvas. You know what you want to create, but you haven't quite figured out how to get there.

And sometimes, you simply have to keep painting.

I am discovering that the uncertainty is part of the process, too. Not every stage is going to be beautiful. Not every brushstroke is going to make sense immediately. Sometimes, you have to let things look a little messy before they become something wonderful.

I still have so much to learn, but that is part of the joy of this journey. Every painting teaches me something new, and every challenge helps me grow as an artist.

And I have to admit, there is something rather wonderful about discovering this new chapter of my creative life.

A Garden Full of Possibilities

When I look at Where the Garden Sings, I see more than flowers, butterflies, and a little bird.

I see new skills, growing confidence, moments of doubt, and the satisfaction of having worked through them. I see what happens when I am willing to be a beginner again, even after all these years.

Most of all, I see possibilities.

There is a lesson here that goes well beyond painting, isn't there? Sometimes, we have to trust that something beautiful is taking shape, even when we cannot yet see it.

Perhaps that is what I love most about this painting. I didn't know exactly how it would turn out. I certainly questioned myself along the way. But I kept going, one layer at a time.

And in the end, the garden sang.

Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. I hope you enjoy watching my work evolve as much as I am enjoying creating it!

I'd love to know what catches your eye first in this painting. Is it the bird, the butterflies, or those big, beautiful flowers? And have you ever worked on something that required you to trust the process, even when you weren't sure how it would turn out? I'd love to hear about it!

With warmest regards,

Wendy 🎨

Wendy Molinaroli Art

Creating, learning, and rediscovering wonder, one painting at a time.