Not every painting comes together in a few days. Some need weeks, others months. And sometimes the best thing we can do for an unfinished canvas is simply to set it aside for a while.
A painting I began back in March
When I first stood before this canvas in March, I had an idea in mind. I knew the direction I wanted to take, which colours to use and the atmosphere I wanted to capture.
But painting is not always a straightforward journey from the first brushstroke to the finished work.
Sometimes the idea changes as the work develops. One layer covers another, some details disappear, and others are given room to stand out. The painting gradually changes, sometimes surprising even the artist.
And that is exactly what happened this time.
There came a point when I felt that something was missing from the painting. I was not sure exactly what it was. I could have kept going, adding more colours and trying to finish it at any cost.
But I decided to do things differently.
I put down my brushes and let the painting rest.
Even an unfinished painting has its place in the studio
Perhaps some people imagine an artist standing before a canvas with a clear vision, producing a finished work in a matter of hours.
The reality is often a little different.
Paintings take shape in different ways in my studio. Some I paint with tremendous energy and barely a pause. With others, I need some distance so that I can look at them with fresh eyes.
And sometimes that distance matters more than spending further hours with a palette in my hand.
During the months when this painting was waiting, I worked on other commissions, my own projects and art courses. Every new painting, every experience and every encounter brings me something new.
We are constantly evolving, after all. And our work changes with us.
What I could not see on the canvas in March, I can suddenly see in October.
Returning to my brushes with renewed energy
After several months, I decided to return to the painting.
And it felt strange. I was standing before the same canvas, looking at the same colours, yet suddenly I saw it completely differently.
I began adjusting individual areas, deepening the contrasts and seeking a balance between bold brushstrokes and finer details.
Gradually, the painting is gaining further depth and character. Gold accents are still to come, to enhance its atmosphere and bring light to it.
I love using gold in my work. It can transform a painting depending on the direction of the light, giving it an entirely different dimension.
This time, though, I do not want to rush anything.
I want every brushstroke I add to have its place.
Abstract painting is about more than colour
What fascinates me most about abstract art is its freedom.
I do not have to tell viewers exactly what to see in a painting. Everyone can find something of their own in it. Some sense the energy of the colours; others find movement, emotions or memories.
For me, that is precisely where the magic of original abstract paintings lies.
A painting does not have to tell one particular story. It can tell as many stories as there are people who stop to look at it.
I often work intuitively when I paint. Of course, I think about composition, colour and the overall impression, but I also leave room for the moment.
Sometimes the most interesting detail emerges just when I stop planning everything quite so carefully.
When is a painting truly finished?
I do not think there is a simple answer to that question.
Is a painting finished when the whole canvas is covered in paint? When there is no room for another brushstroke? Or when I look at it and feel that it needs nothing more?
For me, it is above all that last feeling.
A painting is finished when I no longer feel the need to change anything about it.
Sometimes I reach that point quickly. At other times, it takes several attempts, changes and returns to the canvas.
And I have also learnt to accept that not everything has to be finished straight away.
These days, we often feel that we must constantly be finishing things, sharing them publicly and moving on. But creativity does not follow a calendar.
Sometimes it needs time. And sometimes a little quiet, too.
Every painting is a piece of my story
When I look at this unfinished canvas today, I no longer see only the painting I began in March.
I also see everything that has changed over those months.
I see new experiences, new ideas and a different perspective on my own work.
And perhaps that is precisely why I am glad I did not insist on finishing it back then, at any cost.
The painting taking shape today is a little different from the one I originally imagined.
And that is the beauty of art.
Sometimes we do not need to start again. We simply need to return to something we once set aside and look at it with fresh eyes.
The painting is still taking shape. When its moment comes, I will show it to you in its finished form.
Until then, I am happy to give you a glimpse into the process of creating it.
After all, the journey towards a finished painting is a story worth telling, too.
With love for art,
Kristýna Smetanová
Painter and founder of the Kristýna Smetanová Studio




