Courting the Muse: Paint it again, Sam!

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This post is part of a weekly series for subscribers exploring the creative process—one prompt at a time.

This week’s prompt: Paint over something

Part 1: Nothing is precious (and that’s the point)

She’s a regular cut-up, that muse of mine. Never saw a painting or piece of paper that couldn’t be sliced, diced, or painted over into something even more appealing.

I wrote about that last week.

Let me repeat that: NOTHING IS PRECIOUS.

Except maybe dark chocolate and NY style cheesecake–those are close to precious in my book. And my dogs and grandkids and…well, I guess there’s lots of precious in my life–

But when it comes to art, nothing in my studio is safe. Not the sketchbooks. Not the old paintings. Not even that “pretty good” piece from last year I thought was done.

Call it what you will. ADHD comes to mind–but everything, I mean EVERYTHING is fair game.

My # 1 rule: If it’s not paid for, if it’s in the studio– it’s fair game. My Muse is not sentimental. She’s more the “oh hell no–scrape it off, throw some paint on and see what happens” kind of creative.

Part 2: Proof–ghosts of paintings past

If you look at most of my paintings up close, you’ll probably see something unexpected–a sliver of torn paper, a mark peeking through. Or maybe a color that doesn’t quite match the rest.

These, m’dearies, are the whispers from paintings past. Sometimes they’re subtle. Sometimes they’re outright shouts, more like, “YOO-HOO, I’M STILL HERE! LOOK AT ME!!!” Either way, they’re the secret history of the work. The proof that this painting wasn’t born in a single swoop of inspiration (what the hell is that?)—but in layers. In edits. In “oops” moments and “ let’s try this” decisions..

Working in layers isn’t about getting it right the first time. Or the third. It’s about showing up until something clicks and the painting tells me it’s done.

If you haven’t seen them yet, I have a few short videos on my About page that explain my process. Go ahead, have a look. I’ll wait…

(Waiting patiently. Drumming fingers)

Back already? Okay. Now that you know where I’m coming from with this layers business I want to let you in on a big secret:

Guess what? Great Masters also painted over their less-than greats!


Da Vinci, Van Gogh, Picasso—all of them painted over old work. X-rays have exposed multiple images under some of the classics: full-on portraits buried under grass fields, three paintings stacked under a guitarist, complete shifts in concept mid-paint.

Why? Because canvases were expensive, time was tight, but most of all (at least in my opinion) artists have always been impulsive, chasing the next idea/shiny object/fat tailed squirrel.

Some things never change.

Here’s a few samples of some of my own painted-over paintings:

rooted-oil-painting-by-susan-lobb-porter
Rooted. Oil on Canvas 30×36. Susan Lobb Porter

You’ve seen this one before, I wrote a post about it a few weeks ago. But what I didn’t mention in the post is it’s oil painted on top of an acrylic mixed media. If you’re near Nevada City, pop by the winery before May 18 to see it in real life. Wine, art, questionable life choices—it’s practically a perfect day.

Not local? No worries. Zoom in on this photo. You’ll spot the old collage textures playing hide and seek.

“The layers you can’t see are the ones that give the painting its soul.”

 Baal Shem Tov

Red # something or other. This one started out life as green and yellow. Too green. Too yellow. So one day green and yellow morphed into red and not-so-yellow. I sold this one years ago. It’s a big puppy, if I remember right maybe 40×48?

Horse Woman. 24×48 oil on canvas. She started out as a horizontal horse before evolving into what you see above.This one is in my personal collection.

The truth is, I could’ve posted nearly every piece I’ve ever painted as an example of painting over. And over.

Part 3: Your turn

Got an old piece that never quite clicked? Give it a second chance—mess with it, paint over it, turn it into something completely different. Then come back and tell me how it went. I’d love to hear what you uncovered once you stopped playing nice.

Looking forward to hearing from you!


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Susan Lobb Porter

Hey, welcome to my blog. I'm an artist, writer and sometimes a wise-ass observer of life. Thoughts are my own because really--who else would claim them?

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