Why Watercolour Painting Isn't Always Relaxing (And What to Do About It)
If you've ever wondered why your 'relaxing' art hobby doesn't always feel relaxing, this article is for you!
Maybe you picked up watercolour painting expecting those peaceful, meditative moments everyone talks about, but sometimes you sit down to paint and walk away feeling more frustrated than when you started. Or maybe you even abandon your painting altogether like I did with this little flower journal I had started.
Let’s explore why this happens and how to find the kind of creative calm that actually works for you.
Why We Choose Watercolor for Relaxation
So often we choose a hobby like painting specifically for the relaxation benefits. We're looking for that peaceful wind-down after a busy day, something that will help us slow down and reconnect with ourselves.
And watercolor seems like the perfect choice for that, doesn't it? There's something genuinely magical about what the pigments do on the page - the way they flow and blend, those beautiful organic effects that happen when you let the paint just do its thing. It feels like it should be the most naturally meditative art form.
However, there's also this school of thought that says watercolor is actually the hardest medium to master. And when you think about it, that creates quite a tension, doesn't it?
On one hand, we're drawn to watercolor because we want that relaxation, that sense of flow and letting go. But on the other hand, we're working with a medium that can be genuinely tricky - one that requires a certain level of technical understanding to make it cooperate with what we're trying to do.
So we find ourselves caught in this space between wanting to relax and enjoy the process, and needing enough technical skill to actually make the painting work. It can be tough to find that balance between having sufficient proficiency to make painting enjoyable, and maintaining enough freedom to truly relax and play without getting too caught up in how everything turns out.
And this brings us right back to that old idea of prioritizing process over product - which sounds wonderful in theory, but can be much harder to actually live by when you're sitting there with a brush in your hand.
The Permission to Paint Imperfectly
Now, I don't really like to use the word "badly" when it comes to painting. I much prefer to say "let it turn out as it will and be okay with what you get." Because at the end of the day, it's just a piece of paper, and you can always paint another one.
But that's easier said than done, isn't it? Especially when we're trying to embrace that beginner mindset. There's something about being a beginner that requires a special kind of courage - the courage to not know what you're doing and be okay with that.
This challenge became very real for me with my little flower journal project. Because wanting to create a "perfect" little journal of watercolor flowers meant I was actually depriving myself of the opportunity to make the not-so-perfect ones. The ones where I might learn something new, or discover a happy accident.
In fact, I had sort of planned for potential failure from the very beginning. I chose not to bind the journal before I painted it, just in case I needed to leave a page or two out if they didn't turn out well enough. I was essentially setting myself up to fail.
But here's the thing - it doesn't really work anyway. Each sheet is essentially four pages of a sketchbook, so I would have had to sacrifice three more paintings just to leave out one I didn't like. The whole safety net I'd created for myself was actually more limiting than helpful.
Knowing Yourself and How You Work Best
This brings us to something really important - knowing yourself and how you work best. Some people thrive with the freedom of working on loose sheets. There's something liberating about knowing that each piece stands alone, that there's no pressure to maintain consistency across an entire sketchbook.
But other people find that a bit overwhelming. They prefer the contained feeling of a sketchbook, where everything lives together and tells a bigger story. The question is: can you change your mindset about your sketchbook and view it less as a precious thing and more as a private practice space?
Because that's really what it should be, isn't it? A place where you can experiment and play and not worry too much about the outcome.
Size is another consideration that we don't often think about. Sometimes a big page feels daunting - all that white space staring back at you, waiting to be filled. But other times, a small card can feel stressfully limiting, like you don't have enough room to let your ideas breathe.
Again, it comes back to knowing yourself and giving yourself opportunities for whatever you feel like on any particular day.
But then there's another challenge - the agony of choice. Too many decisions to make can actually suck the fun right out of painting and stop you from painting altogether. So there's a balance to strike between having enough options to keep things interesting, and not overwhelming yourself with possibilities.
I've actually discovered some lovely little solutions for this. There are tiny square gummed pads available these days, and even little precut cards with rounded edges that come in beautiful presentation boxes. They're perfect for a few minutes of play when you want to unwind, and they don't feel like you're wasting expensive paper if things don't go according to plan.
Finding Your Actual Creative Calm
If finding our creative calm is what painting is all about then how about we broaden our idea of the painting process as a whole. Sometimes the most relaxing part of the whole painting process isn't even the painting itself. Sometimes it's just setting up your art space. There's something deeply satisfying about arranging your brushes, setting out your palette, getting your water jar just right.
And sometimes, honestly, just flipping open your palette and looking at those lovely colors with all their little possibilities is enough to cheer you up. There's something so hopeful about them, isn't there? They sit there so patiently, waiting until you're ready to play with them. And when you think about it - where else in everyday life does that happen? Where else do we have something that will just wait for us, without judgment, without pressure, until we're ready?
The truth is, we all have good days and bad days with our creative practice. Some days the paint flows beautifully and everything feels effortless. Other days, it's like the paint has a mind of its own and refuses to cooperate. Both experiences are completely valid and normal.
Maybe your creative calm isn't in the traditional "meditative" sense at all. Maybe it's in the focused concentration, or the problem-solving, or the simple act of making something with your hands. Maybe it's in the planning stage, or even in the cleanup afterward when you're reflecting on what you've learned.
What if we expanded our definition of what creative peace can look like? Instead of expecting every art session to feel like meditation, what if we allowed ourselves to have whatever experience we're having in that moment?
Embracing Your Creative Reality
Sometimes engagement and focus feel very different from the quiet calm we associate with meditation, but they can be just as valuable. Sometimes the most growth happens in those slightly uncomfortable moments when we're stretching beyond what we thought we could do.
It's okay to have art sessions that are about learning rather than just relaxing. It's okay if your creative practice energizes you rather than mellows you out. The important thing is giving yourself permission to work with your personality rather than against it.
The key is recognizing that there's no single "right" way to experience the creative process. Your watercolor practice doesn't need to look like anyone else's. It doesn't need to provide the same type of calm or satisfaction that it provides for others. What matters is that it serves you in whatever way feels authentic and valuable.
Moving Forward With Your Practice
Whether you find watercolour painting deeply meditative or occasionally frustrating (or both!), remember that your experience is valid. The goal isn't to force a particular feeling or outcome, but to show up consistently and see what happens.
Consider experimenting with different approaches: try various paper sizes, work in bound books versus loose sheets, paint at different times of day, or adjust your environment. Pay attention to what conditions help you feel most at ease with the process.
Most importantly, give yourself permission to have whatever creative experience you're having. Some days will feel peaceful, others energizing, and some might feel challenging - and that's exactly as it should be.
Your creative practice is yours alone. Trust it, nurture it, and let it evolve in whatever direction feels most authentic to you.
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