Day 5

In The Zone

Today in the studio, something shifted. I lost track of time. The paint moved more easily. The usual static of indecision faded to a low hum. When I finally looked up, hours had passed.

That’s what artists mean when we say we’re in the zone.

It’s hard to describe exactly — partly because it’s different for everyone — but it’s that elusive state where thinking and doing fall into rhythm, where the gap between your idea and your hand gets smaller. You’re no longer second-guessing every brushstroke. You’re just… painting. Responding. Listening to what the work is asking of you.

But here’s the secret: I never start the day in the zone. It takes me time — sometimes an hour or two — to get there.

There’s always a warm-up period, and for me, it’s essential. I have to sit with the work, look at it quietly, try to see what’s really in front of me and understand what needs to be done. It’s like tuning an instrument. Until I do that, the painting doesn’t make sense.

Contemplating

Often the most valuable time spent in preparation for painting

It might not look like much from the outside — just me, standing there, cup of tea in hand, staring at the canvas — but it’s in those quiet moments that everything begins. I notice where the light has shifted, where the composition needs rebalancing, what colours are pulling too much or too little. And only then do I start mixing paint, tentatively at first, until something clicks.

People sometimes think being an artist is about inspiration. But most of the time, it’s about discipline. You show up. You do the work. And sometimes — as a kind of reward — the work shows up for you too.

Can you force it? Not really.
Can you prepare the ground for it? Absolutely.

For me, the zone never arrives unless I’ve done the work to meet it halfway. And once it arrives, it’s magic. The brush feels lighter, the decisions faster. I stop thinking and start trusting. That’s when I know I’ve crossed over into that rare and wonderful flow state.

Not every day is like that. I’ve had many days that weren’t, and tomorrow might not be. But today was and I’m so grateful.

The zone is fleeting, but it’s part of what keeps us coming back. Not for glory or perfection — but for that moment when it all falls away, and it’s just you and the work.

With love from Orquevaux.

Robyn xx