30 Day Artist: Delusional Or Ambitious?

It's another First Thursday in Cape Town, and as we're entering the next gallery it hits me: I could have done this. Before the thought has finished, I hear my inner mean girl shouting: "But you didn't, did you?"

Anyone walking through a gallery has at some point had the same thought: I could have done that…

Becoming an artist is a rather vague goal. Anyone can pick up a paintbrush and call themselves an artist. The last time I painted was about a year ago, a one off DIY session at home, and it did not go well.

So, time to raise the stakes and make this experiment interesting. No portfolio, no art degree, no connections. Could I get myself into a gallery within 30 days?

Becoming an artist in 30 days sounds ambitious, and ridiculous. But if it wasn't a little crazy, it wouldn't be as exciting.

1+1=2ish

For as long as I can remember, I have had a love-hate relationship with art. It makes me feel alive, and it can also bore me to death.

I don't have a background in art in the traditional sense, but I did finish my bachelor's in fashion, which set me up with a creative and conceptual mindset.

After starting a new job-job in marketing, which keeps me behind my laptop for most of the day, I needed a creative outlet that wasn't digital. After 8 hours crammed into the confines of my desk and laptop, I needed something else, laptop-free. I could easily have got myself a typewriter, but I felt a strong urge to make something physical, something with colour or texture.

The orange and blue started during my tenure at Clay Café, where I started but didn't finish my mission to create my own crockery set. That was painting a cup though, so it doesn't really count. I did get a couple of great pieces that still flourish in my kitchen.

But my life needed more colour. So, 1+1=2ish.

"I can't even draw a nice picture." That was the self-limiting thought that kept me from making art all these years. I was always focusing on making something that looked right. I never spent much time drawing in my childhood, and when it came to proportion, nothing I drew looked quite right.

Instead of focusing on being good at it, creating something great, let's try having fun. That might still make you a "bad" artist, and your art may look even worse than the painting your little niece made, but at least you had an hour or two of blissful distraction from your life's problems that didn't involve doom-scrolling.

So, why not completely let go, and let the colours decide? I'm all for this new approach, maybe even apply it a little bit to daily life, fuck around and find out. So here goes: project 30 Day Artist is born.

I just need to paint

Day one was the idea, the revelation at First Thursday. I thought about it all night. My brain was running wild.

Day two was research. What was I going to make? What could make this actually work? My creative bachelor came in handy: focus on the concept, create a brand and take it from there.

The concept came naturally to me: orange and blue, the contrast that can feel like a million bucks or a horribly cheap bargain brand. I have always been drawn to these colours, but I never realised I saw them as a pair. They do go hand in hand, and if you happen to combine the right shades, it's magic.

Orange and blue. It has been a recurring theme throughout my life, not so much sentimentally as visually. The first sofa I bought was a bright orange Ikea piece, iconic and anything but subtle, but brilliantly tying the room together. Paired with navy velvet curtains.

After a full market evaluation on where to buy paint, I ended up at PNA. I came to the realisation that making art is expensive, and when you're not even good yet it hurts just a little bit more.

I am definitely in my poor artist era, so getting the cheap stuff (craft paints). But I don't need fancy paint to get started, I just need to paint.

I started colour experiments, blending and making my own blues and oranges. I googled making my own colours, but no course or books, I did not have time. Also I was so obsessed with the concept and seeing this habit through, it didn't cross my mind to do a course.

My studio: a makeshift art corner in the concrete garden of the Woodstock house, where I was living with the roomies in a small room of a 4-bedroom house.

Ticking a box

About halfway in, I was still making abstract lined objects. I was losing momentum and not experimenting enough.

It felt lame: I chose a subject and made it abstract. It worked for a bit, it was art, but it did not feel genuine. It felt like ticking a box for the habit.

That is the strength of the 30 day habit, and also its downside: are you still doing the thing because you feel compelled to, or are you just ticking boxes? Sometimes ticking boxes and seeing it through is just what you need to build a habit though.

I let go of my style/trick

Two days after that I got a breakthrough. I let go of my style/trick and did something completely different.

I painted the reversed sunset. Blocks creating a contrast of orange and blue, without many hues but with layers creating an atmosphere.

I limited myself to 4 colours, 2 blue, 2 orange. But I made it work, creating depth while limiting myself.

I simplified my style and it worked. I got excited again to create, and really dive into what I could do. Instead of trying to be a "legit artist" I tried to just trust my intuition, while staying true to the concept.

Paint and be happy

It was a Saturday, the rugby was on, I had no plans but figured now was the time for a little experiment. How does a microdose influence the art? Will there be a visual difference? (30 Days Of Microdosing)

The microdose turned out to be a great move, not so much for the art as for the artist inside me.

I started in a free state of mind, going with the flow, experimenting with shapes and layers. I used more nuances of orange and blue and did not limit myself. I felt free to just create, and truly not bothered with what the outcome would be (and you can kind of tell, but still it was a win).

It pushed me to explore beyond what was already accessible to me. While the outcome might not have become my signature style, it did unleash in me a freedom to explore. Paint and be happy.

I went to the rugby after and ended up at an album release party hosted in a pop up gallery. A night well spent (highlight: I saw a Norman Catherine up close)!

Painting off the grid, sounds like a novel

Going to an ecofarm in the middle of the mountains to paint? Uh, yes please. With little service aka no social media, a dog and nature around, what's not to love?

My Cape Town life was full of distractions, mostly just surfing, so I figured now is as good a time as any to explore the commitment, when all other distractions are no longer there to procrastinate the process.

I packed up my laptop (seeing as I am not an artist yet, and still need to do my job-job to pay the bills), my desk easel, some canvases, brushes and paints, packed up the bakkie and went.

The only thing I did not consider was traffic, so after what should have been an hour and a half, but ended up being almost 3, I got there by nightfall.

I had a little bit of digital withdrawal. No service, no distractions, just paints. And the dog.

That upped the pressure a bit, as it meant no reason not to deliver. The surroundings and the sky were the things that inspired and put me at ease.

It also terrified me a bit, as it turned up the volume of my own thoughts. Am I really an artist? My work feels amateur, I have no idea what I am doing.

Turns out abstract art really is an art, and those pieces you thought your niece could have done aren't as easy as they look.

Nothing I tried stuck: no signature shape, stroke or colour palette. Despite feeling like an amateur, the guy running the farm, who went to art school, encouraged me to just go with it, knowledge or not. That really pushed me to keep going.

Fake it till you make it baby

I had a few more breakthroughs, and slowly found a way to create something that felt authentic. While limiting the colours felt a bit restrictive from time to time, it also pushed me to get creative. Time was running out, but at least I had some pieces I felt confident enough to take with me. But how does one go about getting into a gallery? I started looking at the process online, but that just sent me into an anxious spiral of self-doubt. Sending out a portfolio, filling out forms or emailing galleries' info@ will not give this story the happy ending I need. So again, time to get creative and show my face. If I can just speak to someone, surely they will like this project.

I just went by galleries, checked if I could speak to the owners or collectors, and see what their policy was or if they were willing to look at my work.

I had not set out a strategy, but I did field research in real time, to find out the lay of the land. It turns out, you don't actually tell gallery owners you're not an established artist yet. Fake it till you make it baby.

So I straight away adjusted my pitch and ended up showing my work at two places.

One of the two was a winner: Gallery 1895. I spoke to the owner, sold my concept, and was invited to come back with my work. He knew I was starting out, just not how fresh.

I brought the farm piece, the sunset pieces, some abstract line pieces and the white space pieces. He picked 4 pieces to display, and kept them on the spot: two of the set of three, and the duo, two pieces of the same blocks but in opposite colours.

This was the day of First Thursday!

So it was a success. The challenge was a win.

No, nothing sold. But it turns out art has become my favourite pastime, one that brings me joy and fulfilment. I never in a million years expected to, but could always have guessed that I was meant to become an artist.

What I'd do differently

• Take a course or an art class. Fuck around and find out is quite hard when you don't understand layering colours.
• Start small. Don't aim for the gallery, focus on developing your personal style.
• Know where you're walking in. Some galleries are just that, a gallery. Others are a place of business, looking to sell.
• Be patient, and don't lean into the inner critic. Feeding that need to be great restricted my freedom and repressed my creativity.
• Stick to the concept. I'm glad I didn't stray from orange and blue. It really kicked things up a gear.

The cherry on top

The biggest fail of the challenge: I wasn't there to see it.

What would have been the cherry on top, was to actually see it in person, which was the plan. I was supposed to go check it out with my date, but by the time we got there the gallery was already closed.

But hey, I got into a gallery within 30 days so my night was made!

The only photo I have of my work in a gallery was made from outside.

2026 update: 2 years later, with some hiccups along the way, I still turn to art for quieting my mind and feeding my soul. I'm doing it again right now: 30 Day Artist II.