The Art of Embracing the Process

I once read about a writer who confessed that she didn’t enjoy writing; she liked having written. This resonated with me as a painter. Painting was a battle for me, especially in the early days when I was still learning—honestly, I’m still learning. I loved seeing the finished product, but the act of painting itself? Not so much. I was a painter who liked having painted.

People often told me, "Enjoy the process." But let’s be real—it’s hard to enjoy something that feels more like work than play. So, for the longest time, I painted mainly for the results: the final piece that felt complete, like a victory after a grueling fight. But I realized this mindset had a major downside—it made me dread picking up the brush. I enjoyed going to classes, though; they forced me to paint, which I thought meant I lacked self-discipline. Maybe that was true, or maybe it was just that I needed a nudge to face the struggle head-on.

When the Process Became Fun

Somewhere along the way, my approach started to change. The act of painting began to feel less like a chore and more like a joyful endeavor. Now, some paintings seem to go by too quickly, while others drag on. And that’s okay. I’ve learned to embrace the natural ebb and flow, even if it means hitting pause on a piece and letting it “incubate.” Sometimes, I have to move on to another canvas, a fresh idea, while the first one settles in my mind. It's like a painting takes a deep breath while I focus elsewhere.

Painting has become more of an adventure. Now, I actually find myself laughing at the quirky mistakes that happen in the process. I think of my studio as a playground where I’m free to try, fail, and discover new things—sometimes all within an hour. The buttery texture of oil paint, the richness of colors, and the way light shifts on the canvas feel like magic in my hands.

The Magic of Oil Paints and Light

I’ve always loved the thick, creamy feel of oil paints. They allow me to capture color and light in a way that feels tangible. The way light touches an object fascinates me, whether it's the sun filtering through a field or a simple pear sitting on my table. My process usually starts with a monochromatic underpainting, a kind of grayscale road map that guides where the lights and shadows will go. Then comes the fun part: layering colors over it, watching the canvas come alive, stroke by stroke.

I’m not afraid to experiment—sometimes I veer from tradition, trying new techniques to keep my work fresh. It’s a reminder that growth comes from stepping outside comfort zones, not just in art but in life, too.

Finding Joy in the Process

Today, painting feels like a collaboration between me, the paint, and the light itself. I don’t always have to force myself to start. Instead, I find joy in the simple act of mixing colors and laying them down one layer at a time. The result is still important, but now, the process is just as fulfilling. If there's a takeaway, it’s this: sometimes you need to embrace the struggle to find the joy hidden within it.

I hope you enjoy this peek into my studio to see a few paintings in various stages of “incubation”.

“Glowing with color and light,” “ethereal, impressionistic, illuminating” are just a few ways people describe Lina Ferrara’s work. Her paintings explore the hidden beauty of everyday objects, using light as a transformative element. Raised in New York City and shaped by experiences on a family farm in Italy, Lina's work is a celebration of memory, beauty, and optimism. She currently resides in central Pennsylvania, where she continues to create, exhibit, and share her art globally.