Honestly, I got curious about how famous painters learn today because my niece started art classes and bombarded me with questions. I thought, "Man, even Picasso didn't spring outta Zeus's head fully formed," so I tried five dead-simple ways myself to see what the fuss is about.
Way 1: Scrolling Like a Zombie Artist
First, I just lurked on Instagram and Twitter for hours. Searched hashtags like #OilPaintingProcess and #StudioLife. Wasted half a Saturday watching time-lapses of people smearing paint. Saw David Hockney posting iPad sketches from his couch—turns out even legends doodle lazily. Key takeaway? Most pros show their ugly phases: crumpled sketchbooks, paint-splattered jeans, and abandoned canvases stacked like dirty laundry.
Way 2: Museums on Sneaky Mode
Visited MoMA’s online collection pretending I’d "study." Got hypnotized by close-up shots of brushstrokes in Van Gogh’s "Starry Night." Zoomed till it looked like yellow worms wrestling. Later physically went to a local gallery and literally crouched sideways near a Jenny Saville piece to see how thick the paint globs were. Security guard eyeballed me like I'd shoplift a tube of cadmium red.
Way 3: YouTube Rabbit Holes
Typed "how Kehinde Wiley paints patterns" at 2 a.m. Fell into documentary clips where Wiley’s team projects floral designs onto canvas before painting. Mind blown—they trace first?! Watched a shaky fan video of Cecily Brown wiping off half a painting with turpentine. Felt better about my own art disasters.
Way 4: Art Podcasts While Cleaning
Played "The Lonely Palette" while scrubbing burnt pasta off my stove. Heard Julie Mehretu talking about ripping up maps for collage layers. Immediately fished a shredded parking ticket from my trash to glue into my sketchbook. My cat batted the glue stick under the fridge. Still counts.
Way 5: Messy Hands-On Copying
Grabbed a postcard of a Kusama pumpkin. Tried mimicking her polka dots with discount acrylics. Failed spectacularly—my dots bled into sad purple puddles. Later read she uses custom brushes and laser guides. Obviously cheats. But peeling dried paint off my knuckles felt weirdly sacred.
What’s the big reveal? Last month I dragged my niece to a park with crayons after all this. She whined, "Modern art’s just scribbles!" I showed her a Gerhard Richter blur painting on my phone. We smudged tree rubbings with our fingers till they looked like fog. She called it "dumb but cool." Realized famous painters aren’t wizards—they’re just people who keep showing up covered in paint stains. Now my kitchen table’s permanently glitter-glued. Worth it.
