The Art of Letting Go: Knowing When a Painting Is Done

Completion, for me, is a felt click. Edges stop arguing; color settles into its final temperature; my hand reaches for a brush and doesn’t find a reason to use it. To test this, I rotate the canvas, view it in a mirror, and photograph it in harsh light. If the piece sustains interest from every vantage without asking for rescue, I sign the back and step away. Overworking usually comes from fear that the painting isn’t worthy yet. I try to honor the moment before polish erases life. Some works end quietly; others arrive with a final, risky mark that ties the field together. Either way, I prefer to leave a door open for the viewer’s imagination. Not every question needs an answer.