Gayle McGinty Art

We’ve all been there. You’re staring at a blank canvas, and it’s staring back—judging you. You start with a “brilliant” idea, but three hours later, your masterpiece looks more like a catastrophic pasta accident. When your inner critic starts shouting, “What was I thinking?” it’s time to abandon ship.

If you can’t get to the coast, bring the coast to you. Put on some surf sounds, look at old vacation photos, and find your “mental beach.”

Seagulls don’t have painter’s block. They don’t worry about “finding their voice” or if their wings look symmetrical. They are feathery wind-surfers riding the ocean’s air cushions. They don’t overthink the flight path; they just react to the breeze.

If you’re stuck over-detailing a single wave until it looks like blue mashed potatoes, remember the gull. A single, confident stroke is always better than fifty nervous ones.

The ocean is the only thing allowed to be messy and beautiful at the same time. The surf doesn’t care about “perfect composition”—it just crashes with reckless abandon and resets.

If your studio feels like a gallery of “What Was I Thinking?” moments, stop following the rules. Let your inner child grab the brush and start flying around the canvas. The goal isn’t a masterpiece; it’s the ride. When you stop trying to control the water and start riding the wave, that blank canvas stops being a threat and starts being a playground again.

So, let go, have fun, and just keep painting!

How do you clear the mental clutter when the canvas starts staring back? Tell me your favorite way to get back into ‘the zone’!