I’m often told by students, particularly when I do a demonstration, that they don’t see the colors that I place on the canvas. Part of this, I suppose, is due to the fact that I’ve been painting longer and, therefore, I’ve been looking for color longer – which means I probably see more color. But there are two more important possible reasons.

One is that many students assume that part of the painting process is simply painting colors that one thinks will be good. In other words, they assume that part of painting is making up colors out of one’s head. Given that the method I teach turns on the joy and fulfillment of discovering one’s powers, I never make up colors and I discourage such practices (at least for the first 10 years). It’s not about getting certain results; rather it is about getting a rush from seeing. The results take care of themselves. But the second reason is what I want to address: painters often paint not what they see but the expectation or what they think they should be seeing.

For example, the featured image above is a photo of the scene that we used to paint from my studio terrace. I would say that 9 out of 10 students would paint the mountains farthest away and the peninsula in front pretty much the same color. A typical color would be a kind of viridian green and white.

The above image might be the typical colors that students would use. The peninsula and the mountain range are greenish. But when I would give a student a square piece of plastic with a little hole in the middle and when I would ask them what the color of the mountains farthest away is, they always came up with the right answer: a light bluish color.

In the above image we see first the little circle on the mountain. Keep in mind that by looking just through the little hole, the student can’t see that he or she is looking at a distant mountain. Therefore, the artist can’t possibly think “mountain” or “trees” (which equal green mentally). All that they are able to see is just the color in the little hole. In other words they have isolated the color from what the color is part of (mountain, sky, clothing, whatever). “Oh I see it. The color is bluish!”

When we use the blue we saw through the little hole to scumble the color of the distant mountain (I used photoshop to give you the sense of an underpainting, but notice the simplification: big simple shapes and relationships), we have the correct color and value relationships.

This is what Monet meant when he said “don’t see the things before you.” Just see the color. The trick of course is to squint, compare, and train your eyes to see just color (or line) and not things with names. As painters, we must understand that concepts in our head undermine the seeing of color (or sensations). We think we are seeing but actually we are reading. Skies are blue, apples are red, trees are green and so are mountains. That’s what it means to be “literal.”

It is helpful to use a piece of plastic with a little hole in the middle in order to isolate colors. You will be surprised that you will have no difficulty seeing color. You can do it already. But don’t see the thing before you. Just see the color. Not only will your work improve. You will get a rush and your paintings will be alive.