A blog by professional artist “nol” on how to paint professionally in the 21st century. Telling the world about my art, painting techniques and experiences, my practice and its evolution. Inspired by my love of art, the dream of being a painter and the daily fear of not making it.

I’m a freelance illustrator and fine artist specialised in computer generated paintings and 3D environments. I make images for advertising campaigns for big international brands, record covers for labels like Warp Records or Tee Pee Records, design toys for Kidrobot or create interactive experiences for Fabrica research centre. I’ve created projects for Nike, Google Chrome, American Express, Disney, Sony PlayStation or Levi’s Jeans.

I also teach 3D painting at the KABK in Den Haag and I have an MA degree in Interactive Media from Winchester School of Art (UK). I’m interested in the relationship between technology and art. I want to explore new tools that allow me to create new kinds of paintings on a different scale than traditional brushes and canvases. And I’m fascinated by the way we share our creative works with each other on the internet today as well as by how this is changing our relationship to ownership and authorship.*

“How to paint the moon” is a blog by Korean artist “nol.” He posts step-by-step pictures of the paintings he creates, and he also gives some insight into his life as an artist. It’s all in Korean, but you don’t even need to read Korean to enjoy it. Just look at the pictures and watch how he does what he does. There are so many beautiful ones, I can’t pick just one to show here, so I’ll just link to the whole blog.

Hello! I’m a professional artist living in Japan. I’m here to tell you how to paint the moon.

The first thing you need to know is that it’s not easy. The second thing you need to know is that it’s not hard. It’s just difficult.

You might think that painting the moon would be easy, because it’s already there. But it isn’t, because the moon isn’t right where we are, so we can’t get at it. And even if it were right where we were, we couldn’t see it anyway because of the glare of sunlight on the Earth’s surface. So we’d have to make a copy of the moon and put it somewhere else, which would be hard to do if we don’t have any money for equipment or materials, or experience in painting moons (although this last point may be irrelevant.) The reason why I say that painting the moon is difficult but not hard is because you can always make excuses for why your moons fail, and then you don’t have to feel bad about yourself when they fail.

The moon is extremely difficult to paint. I’ve tried, and failed, many times. There’s just so much detail. But if you want to try it yourself, here are some tips:

1. Before you start, practice the color of the moon on a different painting.

2. The moon is white, but if you want an earthy look, use raw umber and a little bit of titanium white paint. Mix it together and put it in a jar for later use.

3. You’ll need black paint and gray paint to shade the moon – don’t use black or gray acrylic as a substitute for oil paints because they’re not as opaque and won’t cover well enough to achieve the desired effect. Use oil paints instead; it’s well worth the extra cost and effort to get good coverage with them.

4. After using the washes of color (see below) to lay down the basic image of the moon, go back over everything with a

“I believe that the Moon is there even when I don’t see it. But, I have to say, even when people come to my shows and they know what they’re coming to expect, some of them are still surprised by it.”

I think the reason for this is that people feel like reality—or at least their version of reality—has been taken away from them. They’re not entirely sure what’s going on. It’s like being a kid again.

The first time you meet someone who draws really well—and I’m talking about a five year old who’s just discovered crayons and is having a great time with them—you might be a little jealous of their effortless ability to make marks on a page and have them come out looking exactly as they imagined they would. No fussing around with perspective, or proportion, or shading. Just pure expressionism.

But then you remember that the five year old has no idea what he’s doing either. If asked why he uses blue for the sky instead of yellow, for example, he’d probably say something like “Because it looked good”. He doesn’t know yet about complementary colors and how blue and yellow make orange when mixed together in equal amounts; there seems to be no rhy

To begin, I have to find out what the client wants. This is not always easy. Some clients want a portrait of themselves and are satisfied if they can recognize themselves in the painting. Others want a portrait that no one else could possibly recognize as them, and will be angry if you don’t paint a mustache on their mirror image. Still other clients want nothing more than to own an original work of art, and will think it a great honor if you agree to paint it for them.

Trying to please everyone is impossible, so I try to please myself and hope my clients will be pleased too. I like painting portraits and landscapes, but I’m also interested in the new ideas that are coming along like the art of “spray painting” with a special mixture of paints that can dry in mid air. But although I like new ideas, I find it hard to be enthusiastic about “ready-mades.”

There are some people who seem like they get everything right. They are popular, successful, and happy. How do they do it? Are they just lucky? Or is there something you can learn from them?

I think one reason some people have such good luck is that they know how to be happy. I’ve noticed that happy people tend to be those who can appreciate the world as it is, rather than seeing the world as it could be or should be. The way I see it, everyone has a choice about how to live their lives: you can focus on what’s wrong with the world, or what’s wonderful about it. If you spend all your time thinking about how things should be different, you’re not going to be very happy.

In my case I tend to worry about how my work will turn out. But if I push myself to enjoy the process of painting, even when I’m not sure what will happen, then afterward I’m almost always glad I did it that way.

The key is knowing when to let go of control and just enjoy the ride. When my daughter was little she used to love it whenever we drove through a tunnel; she would always wave at the driver in the car next to us. They would wave back and