Stop Trying to ‘Find Your Style’
Finding your artistic style is one of those things that can feel both exciting and crushing at the same time. When I first started painting, I felt like I had stumbled onto something amazing—only to immediately feel like I was failing at it because I didn’t have a distinct style.
How did that come about? Well in an effort to get feedback and find some art friends to bounce ideas off I joined an online art community. I figured getting advice from other artists would help me grow. What I didn’t expect was how much people obsessed over “finding your style.” It seemed to be the most important thing about your work, so naturally I started worrying about it too. Some artists seem to hit on a unique idea early on, something that becomes their whole aesthetic almost instantly. Their work stands out right away. But for me, painting landscapes, it felt like I was just one in a sea of thousands. What if I never found my style? How could I stand out if I didn’t have a unique, recognizable look? And how could I describe my work if I didn’t even know what made it mine? It felt like a huge roadblock. Trying to force consistency and cohesiveness in my work at such an experimental stage was ultimately discouraging.
Your Style is YOU
The reality is, your style is not something you “find.” It’s not lost. Like your handwriting. Did you find that? No. You just wrote, and over time, it became uniquely yours. Sure, you probably practiced with guidelines to improve it, but it was always in your own hand. Painting is the same. It’s in the way you hold a brush, the colors you’re drawn to, the textures and techniques you unconsciously favor. I’ve realised that I’m not naturally drawn to very bright colors or bold contrast - I like to see light and natural peaceful tones with a soft pop of color. That’s not something I decided one day; it’s just what resonates with me more. And the more I paint, the more those preferences solidify into something recognizable.
But that doesn’t mean I didn’t struggle with it. I want my work to be reminiscent of impressionist landscapes… soft, loose, atmospheric, full of light. But actually painting that way? That’s another story. For a long time, I felt like my work didn’t match my vision. I kept trying to figure it out on my own, but nothing felt quite right. The turning point came when I stopped relying on guesswork and started educating myself. I read books by impressionist artists, studied painters I admired—not to copy them, but to understand their approach. I gave myself a framework to build from, and suddenly, things started clicking.
That’s the thing—experimentation is important, and so is learning. But here’s where it gets tricky: What happens when you stumble onto something people love? Something that sells? You might think, Yes! I’ve finally figured it out!—until you realize you don’t actually want to paint that thing forever. A few of my paintings went a little viral on Pinterest early on, and for years, that’s what people kept coming back to. Even now, people still find me through those works. (The watercolor polaroid style paintings pictured above). And while I don’t resent them, (they have been an important part of learning to paint) it can be frustrating when I want to move forward, but they’re so well loved. It makes experimenting feel like a gamble. What if the new work isn’t received the same way? What if no one likes it?
A Lesson From Monet
When you hear the name ‘Claude Monet’ what comes to mind? For me, it’s dreamy water lilies. But was that what he started with? No. He began by painting caricatures. Caricatures! Imagine if he had stayed there. If he never explored light, movement, and nature. No water lilies. No shimmering ponds. No legacy as one of the greatest Impressionists. Fortunately, he kept painting until he found something he really loved and then he painted it for over 30 years. Around 250 water lily paintings.
In his own words Monet highlights the importance of passion when creating:
“Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand it, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.”
So if you’re stressing over finding your style, listen to Monet: just love your work and love creating it. Your style will emerge over time. Keep making art, trying new things, making bad art, learning from other artists, and letting your work evolve naturally instead of forcing it into a neat little box too soon.
Your art is valid. Your style is irrelevant. Just keep going.
