What if your painting isn’t ruined after all?

In my recent free course, I set an assignment to make a 'bad' painting - something that was deliberately ugly. Lots of people resist this idea ... why would we want to make something that looks bad? But ultimately, most agree that it is a revealing and useful exercise.

I don't set that assignment to be a sadist - I set it because it helps with one of the biggest blocks I encounter in my teaching. Too many artists get stuck because they need their paintings to always look good. They can't bear a studio session that doesn't result in a something that looks good. In other words, they can't live with the ugly stage.

The ugly stage is that moment in the process where everything feels wrong. The composition looks unbalanced, the colours are muddy, the whole thing feels awkward and lifeless. It’s the part of the painting you’d never want anyone else to see.

And yet, it’s the most important stage of all.

I’ve had paintings sit in the ugly stage for months. One in particular stayed awkward and unresolved for three years before I finally pushed it through. And others have surprised me by coming out of the ugly stage in a single afternoon. There’s no rule and no fixed timeline. It takes as long as it takes.

But here’s the thing: if you give up in the middle, you’ll never know what that painting could have become. As I wrote last week, the struggle through the ugly stage is what adds depth, complexity, and interest. It’s what makes a painting worth looking at.

When someone tells me they “ruined” a painting, nine times out of ten what they really mean is: they stopped in the middle. They quit before the breakthrough.

So why do we avoid it? Why do we throw up our hands and walk away instead of leaning in?

Part of it is simple: we want to avoid discomfort. Sitting in front of a painting that feels like a mess is uncomfortable. It stirs up impatience, frustration, even shame. There’s also an attachment to being “good.” Many of us grew up praised for being talented, quick, or neat. The ugly stage feels like evidence against that identity, so we dodge it.

But if you look at it another way, the ugly stage is a gift. It’s the arena where you learn to tolerate imperfection. It’s the training ground for resilience. And it’s where your voice as an artist starts to deepen, because you’re no longer skating along the surface — you’re down in the mud, wrestling.

But how do you get used to being at this stage if everything in you recoils against it? 

I recommend consciously practicing a different way. Here’s an exercise I sometimes do myself: make one small “ugly” painting every day. Don’t set out to make it beautiful. Don’t even set out to “fix” it. Just let it sit in that unresolved place. Notice what comes up in you — the urge to abandon it, the itch to tidy it up, the self-criticism that bubbles to the surface. That’s the real work.

And then, sometimes, you’ll find that one of those little ugly paintings surprises you. It will stumble through its awkward phase and arrive somewhere unexpected, somewhere alive. Other times, it won’t — and that’s okay too. The point is the practice. The point is learning that the ugly stage is not the end, but the middle.

So the next time you feel despair creeping in, when you’re tempted to pronounce your painting “ruined,” pause. Ask yourself: is this really ruined, or am I just standing in the ugly stage?

Spoiler alert - it is always the latter! Congratulations - you’re exactly where you need to be.

If you can stick with it - if you can hold your nerve and keep working - you might just discover that the ugly stage is where the magic was hiding all along.

Psst, wanna see my ugly stage...?

Actually, I'm just kidding. I never really see my paintings as ugly - I don't judge them so harshly. I just see them as unfinished, maybe a bit lost. I know something will emerge if i just keep going and I actually enjoy the various stages - even the ones that can never be called beautiful

Here is a current work in progress. This one has been all sorts of different things but yesterday I decided to really shake it up by deliberately adding colours that clash and even painting with my eyes closed. 

As you can see, the painting feels chaotic and unresolved, but I genuinely love this stage of the process. I have no idea what it will eventually become - I have no idea which parts of this will show through the final layers (if any). This means it's all to play for. 

As artists we get to live in this place of mystery and magic where anything is possible. We are so lucky :)

That's it for me this week. I'll see you again soon - have a marvellous creative week. And if any of this resonated, maybe have a go at a few ugly paintings...

Love,

Louise x