I was a bloomer as a professional artist, beginning my journey in my early 40’s. Although I had learned to draw as a kid and had maintained an interest in art as an adult, I didn’t attend art school and the further I dedicated to my painting practice, the more clear it became that there were significant gaps in my knowledge. As such, like many self-learning artists I gradually cobbled together a variety of resources and approaches that made a huge difference at different stages in my career. I’m sharing these in the hopes that they might give other artists ideas of how to chart their own path.
Below are the resources that had the most impact on my journey, listed roughly in the order I encountered them.
Online Courses: My first formal art training came through an online course called Essentials of Realism by John Hardestry, offered by Schoolism. It was affordable at the time (~$100) and provided a solid foundation and exercises to hone my approach to realism, as well as a valuable framework for evaluating my work when things weren’t coming together. This course left a lasting impression, and its principles continue to influence my art today. While I’ve taken other online courses with the company, this one stands out as the most impactful.
Workshops: Workshops are an excellent way to learn new mediums or techniques, and they’re especially valuable if you like having an instructor present to answer questions. I attended several in-person workshops when I was learning acrylic painting, and I highly recommend them—particularly those that teach a structured approach you can bring back to your studio. This is also a great place to start building your artist community with people roughly at your stage of interest and experience.
Online Coaching: Receiving direct feedback from an experienced artist can be incredibly valuable, especially early on. When I transitioned to oil painting, I hired a coach for online guidance and weekly feedback on my paintings. This experience was fantastic, and I learned a great deal about oil painting techniques, business, and marketing. It does have a shelf-life, however; for me after about a year, I felt I had learned what I needed and broke off to experiment and explore on my own. I would add that while worthwhile, this option can also be pricey for the average artist (~$240/month for me), though probably a lot less than formal art school.
Social Media and YouTube: I have mixed feelings about these resources. On one hand, I’ve gained useful insights from the many artists who share their content online, especially when I’m trying to learn specific techniques. I’ve also made some great online connections that have truly enriched my experience as an artist. On the other hand, it’s easy to get sucked into mindlessly consuming videos instead of actually painting. Ultimately, there is no better teacher than experience in my opinion. To avoid getting trapped in “online research mode”, I try to use social media when I have a specific issue to solve, rather than just aimlessly browsing artist content.
Art Books: The world of art books is vast, and it can be overwhelming to choose the right ones. After much trial and error, I’ve narrowed down my list to a handful of key books that I regularly return to for inspiration and practice:
1. Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland: This is by far my most essential art book. It doesn’t focus on painting techniques but instead explores the challenges of being a productive artist. It addresses the struggles that often lead artists to quit and offers strategies to avoid this fate. A must-read for anyone serious about being an artist.
2. Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards (4th Edition): My go-to for practicing the fundamentals of drawing and developing the skills of observation and perception essential to being an artist. It has critics of the underlying science the author cites, but I think even setting those aspects aside it’s a handy book that emphasizes an important aspect of seeing as an artist: drawing what you actually see, not what you think you know.
3. Carlson’s Guide to Landscape Painting by John F. Carlson: A classic from the 1920s, this book is packed with valuable advice on landscape painting. It’s densely written in an old-timey way but well worth the read for anyone painting landscapes.
4. Color and Light by James Gurney: This book is a treasure trove of tips on understanding light and colour—two aspects of painting that I’m particularly obsessed with. It’s full of beautiful illustrations and practical advice, plus stunning paleoart.
Your Artist Community: There’s something special about gathering with fellow artists and painting together, whether it’s at an event, in a public space, or simply outdoors. Early on, I connected with others who shared my passion for plein air painting—painting outside in the open air—and it’s become a cornerstone of my creative practice ever since. The process can be unpredictable; some paintings succeed, while others don’t quite come together. But there’s an undeniable pleasure in standing in a beautiful spot on a sunny day, experimenting with colour and composition, and chasing the fleeting light of a scene. Even when a painting doesn’t turn out as planned, there’s a deep sense of satisfaction in the experience itself. I know that painting in public or with others can feel intimidating, but of all the resources I’ve explored, this is by far the most essential to my growth as an artist.
Building From What I Know: Starting late as an artist has real disadvantages, but it also means arriving with a lifetime of experience to bring to your practice. My background as a professional scientist shaped not just the soft skills I brought to painting — writing, analytical thinking, structured self-evaluation — but the stories my work tells and how I approach improving it. I treat my art practice the way I’d treat any scientific problem: iteratively, experimentally, tracking what works. In recent years I’ve been more consciously leaning into this rather than treating the two identities as separate. Your version of this will look different, but most artists have unusual backgrounds worth mining. It’s worth exploring what role your background plays or could play in your artistic practice.
Final Thoughts: While this list sums up my formal training, I would emphasize that all of this learning has been coupled with ~1000+ hours of painting practice in the field and studio. There’s no substitute for experience. Even still, occasionally researching and finding resources to help address fundamental challenges you’re facing is an effective way to keep things moving forward in your artistic development. On that note…maybe it’s time to get out the sketch pad or sit at your easel and work on the piece you’ve been procrastinating over (and the same goes for me…).
Leave a Reply