Yesterday’s painting clearly needed a friend, so today I gave it one—another small acrylic bird painting. Shown together, the two pieces read like a quiet conversation—similar in scale, different in tone, and shaped by the same ongoing experiment with acrylic.

I’ve been intentionally stepping outside my comfort zone this month, exploring how acrylic paint behaves under a palette knife and what it asks of me differently as a painter.
I’ve painted cardinals like this one more times than I can count—maybe a hundred—and yet…
If it ain’t broke.
When in Rome.
C’est la vie.
Onward, like a duck to water.
We’re nearly halfway through the 31 days now, and I’ve started several acrylic pieces that I can’t quite seem to figure out yet. There’s a real learning curve here. I’m surprisingly pleased by the thickness of the acrylic paint and the way it holds its shape under the palette knife, allowing for bold texture and physicality.
What I don’t love is how quickly acrylic dries on the knife itself, leaving behind a crusty residue that refuses to wipe away easily. It’s a small frustration, but also part of the conversation I’m having with this medium—learning what it gives freely and what it resists.
This little cardinal feels like a moment of understanding. Not mastery, exactly, but a small nod from the paint saying, You’re getting warmer.


