When to Break My Own Rules

I keep a handful of rules—limited palette, a pause of negative space, no overexplaining titles—because constraints sharpen choices. But I also watch for the painting that asks to break them. If a piece begs for a shock color or a dense all‑over field, I let it. The rule existed to serve the work, not the other way around. I record these exceptions in a notebook and ask why they succeeded. Sometimes they become new rules; sometimes they remain singular and unrepeatable. Rule‑breaking keeps my practice from ossifying. It reminds me that discovery thrives at the border of what I think I know.