Seeing the World Through the Eyes of an Artist

An interesting thing happens when we live life as an artist. We see things differently. It is as if we have new eyes that see wonderful things everywhere. I find these experiences are most noticeable away from the easel when I'm not actually thinking about painting or the project at hand. When it happens it makes me stop and take a second look at something, and it is accompanied by a little thrill as I look in wonder!

So what on earth am I talking about?

I can only describe it as a phenomenon that creates a 'wow' moment when I can suddenly see something rendered as a painting. Sometimes I can even see how I would approach making that happen.

This seemingly magical thing comes from developing artistic vision through a trained eye. Instead of seeing, for example, a butterfly on a flower, the artist sees colour, light, shadow, form, and how the elements interact. The reality of the objects is filtered and seen through an interpretive lens where the artist tunes into the fine transitions of colour, light, and texture.

When seeing the world through the lens of an artist, it is apparent that seeing is not the same as looking. The artist interprets as they observe and is open to the idea that making art is about endless possibilities. It is looking at things with intense curiosity, not by the names we give things, but with the joy of really seeing something broken down into its integral parts.

I recently had the joy of revisiting these intense observation skills when I was required to paint something for the 'memento mori' themed week at the Still Life course I was doing. I chose to paint a dead green bottle fly instead of the traditional skull and associated items. I had the 'ew!' moment with the fly, but challenged myself to get over that and paint the incredible colours that glowed on its exoskeleton.

As I looked closely I could see the colours ranged from beautiful golds, golden greens, metallic turquoise through to deep rich purples. I had to intently observe the way the colours shifted into the adjacent colour, and I had to really think about how I could mix those glorious hues with my limited palette. The wings really challenged me as the hues varied from different shades of grey to the hint of pink and green iridescent refractions of the light on its delicate structures. The greatest challenge of the session was to achieve this in just 2 hours!

Looking this closely also helps to define the objects we paint for the viewer too, where they experience some of the magic captured by the artist. Even if the viewer can't put it into words, they will feel the wonder, just as the artist did when they created it. What the viewer experience, then, is the artist's personal interpretation.

A photo taken out on location in Suffolk with the glimpse of a wheat field beyond the trees.

As an artist I'm always spotting things in the landscape that inspire me, as landscape painting makes up my main studio and gallery work.

I notice things like the shapes of a tree, the way it has grown, the spaces between the branches (negative shapes). One of my favourite observations, which has inspired a lot of my paintings, is what lies beyond the trees. Such things as the hint of a hazy horizon, the light on a field of wheat, and the atmospheric perspective of a scene (the land becoming more colourful and clearer when as it comes closer). I love texture and I create implied textures in trees and the foreground using tissue paper. My observations and my methods become my personal interpretation of the landscape.

An intriguing view of something beyond the trees I captured on a walk. This is on the list for future paintings.

Having spent the last 18 years painting landscapes in my personal visual voice, the Still Life course has reminded me to look even closer again at what it is that excites me and how to render that into a painting.

When something excites an artist, they feel compelled to capture it in paint. A connection forms between what they see and what they carry inside. In noticing it, they often respond to something that reflects who they are or what they deeply believe—sometimes without fully realising it or being able to explain it. That link is what gives a painting its emotion, and it’s what connects the artist with the viewer.

Seeing the world as an artist doesn't rely on vision alone. The environment also plays a part, as does the mood of the artist. Like an actor, the artist needs to slip into the role of the creator as they work. Their intense concentration creates a personal zone and this inevitably effects the way the painting is created. For example, artists who paint en plein air will absorb the surroundings as they paint, noticing temperature, sounds and smells. For example, a scene filled with birdsong, creates an atmosphere of tranquility. This audible wonder affects the mood of the painting. How is mood created in a painting? Well, that is a whole other blog that can be written another time, but mood is usually created using colour, light, composition and brushstrokes.

Tranquil Walk (a commissioned piece in 2024)

The way the artist sees the world is a bit like a mental sketchbook. What we see everyday is raw material ready to be interpreted and inserted into a future artwork. These are often things that others may miss, but to us they are things that hold potential to inspire creations in a unique and personal way.

Of course, these days our phone cameras can be used to capture our 'wow' moments. Here are a few snapshots of scenes I have seen while out walking, as a passenger in a car, or on location. It may only be a tiny part of the scene that I want to remember, and taking a quick photo means I can have a closer look in the future.

The things that inspire us as artists can range from photos and memories to colour swatches and other artists' work. I use the online app Pinterest to keep inspiration that I have found via research or just through curious browsing.

But mostly I love to see the world in real life, in real time, and through my artist's eyes.

If we stay open and curious, the world keeps offering us 'wow' moments - small flashes of colour, light, form and atmosphere that can be the start of a new painting. By collecting what moves us and paying close attention to how it makes us feel, we shape those observations into work that carries emotion. In the end, the personal way of seeing is what turns everyday scenes into art - and invites us the viewer to see them anew.

Thank you for joining me on this month's blog. April 2026 marks the end of the 12 months I committed to writing a 'behind the scenes' and 'personal stories' series of blogs, designed to give you an insight into my life as an artist. I have very much enjoyed writing these blogs and I have decided to continue along this theme for the foreseeable future.

If you have any comments or questions, do let me know by either commenting below. I look forward to hearing from you. You may well inspire a whole new post!

Back next month.

Deborah x