Last fall, I was commissioned to create a large landscape for a client’s home on the Eastern Shore, inspired by a small 18” x 18” study I had completed the year before. I was beyond excited. Not only was this client someone I’ve known for many years, but the study had always lingered in the back of my mind, almost whispering that it was destined for something greater. I wasn't sure what that "something" was, but I knew it needed to be realized.

The original scene, a coastal landscape, was painted from life on a silver leaf-covered gessoed board. Simple in design, it focused on capturing the textures and mood of the shoreline. It was completed in about two hours, just as the light slipped behind the horizon.

Adapting the composition from a square to a rectangle was easy enough on paper, but the real challenges wouldn’t reveal themselves until I was deep into the painting. Here's a photo of the work halfway through. At this stage, it felt like I was "on the right track," but I knew I needed time to sit with it.

Painting in progress. The yellow lines represent a compositional change guiding your eye precisely to the focal point of the painting.

Time is a rare luxury for an artist. Clients often claim there’s no rush, only to apply steady pressure as the project progresses. Thankfully, this particular client was incredibly patient, or at least they hid their impatience well. I lived with this painting in my studio, working on other projects, until one day—while looking at it in a mirror—I spotted an opportunity for a stronger composition. That’s when I decided: Go big or go home. Risk turning a good painting into a potentially epic one, without letting the small study hold me back. At this point, the painting was standing on its own—sink or swim. And, of course, I set the unveiling deadline for added drama.

I ended up sacrificing part of a small cloud to solidify the composition, which triggered a cascade of changes across the canvas. After about ten hours of reworking, I had touched nearly every inch of the painting. I needed to resolve these compositional issues before I could lay in the bravura—the bold, seductive strokes that give the piece its energy.

Never miss the chance to add drama to your art.

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