Returning To Old Work

One of the unexpected joys of the past year has been returning to paintings I created years ago.

Like many artists, I have pieces that I eventually stopped working on. Not because I had finished them, but because I'd reached the point where I could no longer see a path to making them better. The ideas were there. The emotion was there. But they never quite became what I'd imagined.

For years, those paintings simply sat in a folder.

Recently, I decided to revisit a few of them.

Not to reinvent them.

Not to replace them.

Simply to continue the conversation I started years ago.

The changes are surprisingly subtle. A hand that never felt quite right. A face with a little more life. A few supporting details that always distracted me. The composition, lighting, color, and heart of each painting remain exactly as they were.

What changed wasn't the paintings.

What changed was me.

As artists, we often think of growth as moving forward—starting the next painting, the next film, the next project. But sometimes growth means looking backward and finally solving problems we couldn't solve before.

Sometimes the work isn't waiting for new tools.

Sometimes it's waiting for a more experienced artist to return.

Verdance and Undertide.

Verdance

Undertide