100 days of play: what I’m learning so far
A couple of weeks ago, I began what I’ve been calling ‘100 days of play’, my version of the 100-day project.
Already, just two weeks in, several unexpected things have begun to unfold. Read on to discover how this simple daily practice has been quietly reshaping the way I paint.
When I started, my intention was simply to return to a daily creative rhythm. In the past, I’ve attempted the project but set my expectations far too high, and inevitably drifted away when I could’t keep up.
This year I decided to approach it differently: smaller, gentler, and without the pressure to produce anything perfect.
Now, just over two weeks in, I’m beginning to notice some surprising things happening.
Rebuilding the painting muscle
Having had quite a break from regular painting, one of the first things I noticed was how I’d forgotten how much concentration it requires. It’s a kind of focused quiet - the sort where you sit down intending to paint for half an hour and suddenly realise much more time has passed. Coming back to painting after a break, I realised that my ability to sustain that kind of concentration had dwindled considerably.
Daily painting is gradually rebuilding that muscle. I tend to work with colour quite intuitively, and each piece asks for attention and patience. My colour choices unfold as the painting progresses; it becomes a kind of symbiotic process where the work almost begins to speak back to me. With each passing day, I find it easier to settle into that deeply absorbed state again.
The beauty of repetition
So far, many of the paintings have returned to the same few flowers: snowdrops, primroses, fritillaries, daffodils, and now hellebores. At first, I wondered whether repeating the same subjects might feel limiting, but the opposite has proved true. Each time I paint the same flower again, something shifts slightly in the way I approach it, and it’s really giving me the chance to grow more confident with my chosen paint medium Acryclic Gouache, which I haven’t really used before. The repetition is allowing the work to evolve naturally and makes it feel like a quiet discovery.
Permission to Explore
Another gift of the project has been the freedom it creates. When you commit to one hundred pieces, perfection quickly becomes less important than curiosity. The project almost gives you permission to try things you might otherwise hesitate over, which feels perfect for where I am at right now.
I’m particularly enjoying working with pre-painted grounds on my papers, which gently push me towards colour combinations I wouldn’t normally choose, or might even actively avoid. Some paintings work better than others, of course, but each one seems to move the work forward in some small way.
watching the work emerge
When I looked at the first selection pieces together, I noticed clear patterns beginning to form.
Certain colour palettes seem to return again and again. The decorative borders I’ve been playing with have gradually evolved into a visual language of their own, and the flowers themselves are becoming slightly more stylised with each new painting.
It’s been a fascinating process to observe. Rather than creating isolated paintings, it feels more like building a small world, one piece at a time.
Continuing the Journey
The hedgerows and my cottage garden are only just beginning to wake up here in Devon, and every week seems to bring a new flower to paint. I’m curious to see how the series will evolve as the season unfolds.
For now, I’m simply enjoying the daily ritual: sitting down at my desk, mixing colours, and letting the next small painting take shape.
If you’d like to follow along, I’m sharing each piece daily over on Instagram as the project continues.