There’s No Escape from the Messy Middle (and why that’s okay)

You are at your easel, full of hope and optimism, your freshly-toned canvas before you. The sketch looks fine, and you start to apply paint – maybe a rough outline, and then blocking in some base colours. So far so good. You’re trying to keep things fresh and loose, like Matisse or Brett Whiteley, or that nice comedian who paints celebrities on television, and makes them cry. You’re building up layers, concentrating on light and shade, tone on tone. But then, oh, no, suddenly you’re losing the likeness! That nostril looks like a small cave! The flesh tones have gone from underdone to undead! You’ve completely stuffed it up!

So, you take a break, hoping that when you return to your easel, the picture will have miraculously transformed into something halfway decent. But, alas, the time taken to drink a coffee and do the daily Wordle does not perform a miracle on your work in progress, and you’re tempted to do a Dorian Grey and piff the canvas into the attic. Or, cover your shame in gesso and begin again, seeing how expensive canvases are.

Then, just before you put all your art equipment up for sale on eBay, you remember that this always happens, and you haven’t actually stuffed it up. You have just, inevitably and inescapably, reached the Messy Middle – that quagmire of misplaced pigments that must be waded through, before you can regain a more solid footing and eventually reach the promised land of an acceptable painting, or, perhaps even one to be proud of.

You are not alone, dear aspiring artist. It happens to everyone. Well, almost everyone. If you don’t believe me, watch a few episodes of Portrait Artist of the Year, and you will be pleasantly reassured by the often awful mid-point messes that appear from even the most talented contestants. But do they pack up their palettes and go home? They do not. They blithely paint on, applying layer upon layer like Sarah Lee and her strudels, until finally, just before the time is up, and the host with the overbite tells them to step away from their easels like a police officer in a drug bust, a wonderful painting emerges, looking like it was never anything other than splendidly, imperfectly perfect.

The point is, the messy middle isn’t fun, but it is a normal part of painting, whether you are a beginner, or a master. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, just a stage to be worked through. No wonder in movies we see that recurring image of the artist’s easel draped in a cloth, with said artist banning anyone from glimpsing the unfinished work. It’s because they are deep in the messy middle, and don’t wish to be judged or defined by it. So, by all means hide your work from view until you are happy with it, but don’t be discouraged by the messy middle, and don’t let it make you give up on painting if it is something that brings you joy. Goodness knows we need all the joy we can get, messy or not.