How Long Does It Take to Paint a Custom Floral Artwork?

People ask this question often, and the truth is, it is not as simple as naming a number of hours or days.

There is a process, of course. But the time it takes to create a custom floral painting depends on something deeper than size alone. It depends on the complexity of the bloom, the strength of the image, the surface I am working on, and something even harder to explain - the moment when the painting begins to truly come alive on the canvas.

Most people assume a larger painting will always take longer. Sometimes that is true. But often, it is the flower itselfthat determines the timeline far more than the dimensions of the canvas.

I can paint a large flower with generous, open petals much more quickly than I can paint a smaller or same-sized piece featuring a complex peony. A peony, with all of its folds, layered petals, subtle shifts, and internal movement, can take me three to four times longer than a simpler bloom. That is because I am not just painting a flower. I am trying to translate its presence, its energy, its softness, its drama - and that takes time.

It Always Begins With the Image

Every painting begins long before I ever touch a brush to canvas.

I work from photographs that I have taken myself, or sometimes from a client's personal photo collection. I am extremely selective about what I choose to paint. The lighting has to be beautiful and interesting. If the light in the source image is flat, the painting will be too. I also will not paint just any flower. Some varieties simply do not speak to me in a way that makes me want to live with them for the many hours a painting requires.

When I find an image that has something special in it, I bring it into Photoshop, but only to crop it. I do not manipulate the colour or enhance the photograph. I don't want a computer-improved version of nature. I want the original moment - the one that first caught my eye - because that is where the truth is.
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Cropping is a very important part of my process. I am not simply trimming an image to fit a canvas. I am searching for tension, for drama, for movement. I am looking for the lines that pull your eye inward, the shapes that create contrast and feeling, the shadows that make the whole image more powerful. I want to remove anything that doesn't serve the painting. I want to find the main point - the pulse of the image, really - and make sure the viewer feels it.
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Then the Real Work Begins

Once I have chosen the final crop, I calculate the ratio of the image and decide on the canvas size that best honours it. If the composition calls for an unusual format, I make it. I custom cut stretcher bars in my woodshed and build the canvas to suit the image rather than forcing the image into a standard size.

Then I stretch a thick canvas over the frame and begin preparing the surface. First I apply a sizing medium to seal the canvas. Once that is dry, I apply three coats of gesso, sanding between each one. This creates the kind of surface I want to paint on and also protects the canvas from the acidity of the oil paint.

After that, I transfer the image to the surface, either by using a hand-drawn grid or, for larger pieces, a projector. A grid is beautiful and exacting, but on a large painting it simply becomes inefficient. The projector allows me to spend my time where it matters most - in the painting itself.

Only then do I begin to paint.
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Sometimes I start at the top left and work my way across. Sometimes, especially with complicated peony paintings, I begin with the entire background first. I need to understand the world the bloom is living in before I can fully understand the bloom itself.
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A Painting Is Built One Decision at a Time

I think this is the part many people do not realize.

A painting is not made in broad, dramatic gestures alone. It is made through a myriad of decisions, one after another, one brushstroke at a time.

I do not use a palette knife to quickly cover large areas. I use brushes ranging from 3/4 of an inch wide down to brushes with only a few strands of hair. Every edge, every nuance in colour, every soft blur in the background, every turn of a petal, every shift from light into shadow is created deliberately.

That takes time.

It takes focus. It takes patience. It takes skill. And it takes a willingness to stay with the painting long enough for it to become what it wants to be.

Even though I work in oils, drying time is usually not the thing that slows me down. I paint in thin layers and move slowly across the entire surface, so by the time I return to an earlier section, it is often dry enough to continue. What takes the time is not waiting. What takes the time is seeing, deciding, adjusting, and bringing something believable and moving into a two-dimensional surface.

For Commissioned Work, the Decisions Begin Early

To inquire about a commission  - message me

When I create a commissioned painting, there is a thoughtful conversation at the beginning where we decide on the important details. That part matters deeply, because once the painting has begun, it is very difficult to make anything other than subtle changes.

I do share progress images with clients, but not as an invitation to rework the structure or colour of the piece. By then, those decisions have already been made. I share the images so the client can feel connected to the creation of the work, and so they can witness their painting coming into being.

That, too, is part of what makes a custom piece special.

How much does a commissioned piece typically cost?
​Check out this blog post. 

So, How Long Does It Take?

My most honest answer is this: it takes as long as it takes for the painting to arrive.

There is a technical process, yes. But beyond that, the timing depends on when the energy and emotion begin to fully live on the two-dimensional surface - when you can feel the three-dimensional presence of the flower, and when the painting begins to breathe in its own way.

Some paintings come more quickly. Others ask much more of me.
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But none of that time is wasted. Every hour is part of building something that feels alive.
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"100% Source of Passion" 18 x 24" Oil on canvas SOLD

These Paintings Are Not Decor

This is something I feel very strongly about: the paintings I create are not decor.

They are life-enhancing experiences.

They change the way people live in their homes. They change the feeling of a room. They bring beauty, grace, love, hope, and energy into a space in a way that is hard to explain until you have lived with one.

You cannot walk into a room with one of my paintings and not be changed by it.

I have seen this happen. One woman purchased one of my paintings at a floral fine art show because, out of nearly 150 paintings in the room, it was the only one that made her feel better. She was facing a cancer diagnosis and knew that painting needed to be part of her healing journey.

I have never forgotten that.

That is why I do not think of these works as simply decorative objects. They carry something deeper than that. And that is also why I cannot measure the making of them only in hours.

A custom floral painting takes time because it is made with care, with discernment, with technique, and with heart. It takes time because I am not interested in simply copying a flower. I am interested in creating a painting that holds presence. A painting that moves someone. A painting that changes a space, and perhaps even the person living in it.

If someone asks me how long it takes, that is the truest answer I can give.
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