Finished! I think?

There are countless times throughout painting when I wonder whether or not it’s finished. That question came up again and again with this one. Reaching the end isn’t a single, clear moment; it’s a drawn-out, draining stretch of doubt, and after all this time I still don’t hear a booming “you’re done.”

To keep myself from overworking and to protect the delicate balance here between realism and abstraction, I set shorter sessions toward the end, just 10 to 15 minutes a day. It slowed my pace enough to see whether the next brushstroke would truly add something. After repeating this for a few days, the finish arrived quietly on its own. No party or celebration, just a quiet “I’m done.”

Finishing a painting rarely feels like a huge victory; it feels more like letting go.