When I begin creating artwork, my first priority is eliminating distractions. Whether it’s my phone or anything else that might pull my attention away, I make a point of working in a clean, quiet space—one that’s free of anything that could interrupt the process.
This usually means setting aside several uninterrupted hours where I can focus solely on painting. I find this especially important when working on gestural or abstract expressionist pieces, where momentum and intuition play a critical role.
When I create abstract work, sometimes I begin with a clear direction in mind, and other times I start with no plan at all. In those moments, I simply lay out a range of colors, mix them into different tones, and allow the painting to unfold naturally on the canvas. The act of painting itself becomes the guide.
More recently, I’ve been creating abstract works inspired by memories of places I’ve visited. One example is my painting Lower East Side, which was created entirely from my recollection of walking the streets of the Lower East Side in Manhattan. The atmosphere of the neighborhood—the energy of the streets, the architecture, the shops, the people, even the weather and season at the time—all influenced how the painting evolved.
Rather than trying to visually replicate a location, I focus on selecting a few elements that stood out most to me. In this case, it was the density of the buildings, the rhythm of the streets, hints of the skyline, and the movement of people passing by. I translate those impressions through expressive brushstrokes, palette knife marks, surface scrapings, and multiple layers of paint.
After an initial painting session, I often revisit the work over the course of several weeks. I make subtle adjustments as needed until I reach a point where there feels like nothing more to add. That moment—when any further change would take something away—is usually when the painting reveals itself as finished.
During longer sessions, something interesting often happens. After a few hours, the work begins to flow effortlessly. I’m fully aware of what I’m doing, yet so immersed that time seems to disappear. It’s not uncommon for five or six hours to pass before I realize I haven’t taken a break for food or even a drink. Being in this state—fully present and deeply focused—is often when the painting takes over, and when the most meaningful moments occur.
— Blair