Oops Beauty
Imperfection has always carried its own weight in beauty.
Most of the time, I plan my paintings down to the inch. Pigments, textures, layers — nearly everything is mapped out before I even touch the panel. But this work cracked itself open. The black surface veined in directions I didn’t predict. Pink pigment spread wider than intended. A yellow hue bled into places I never chose.
I could have corrected it. Instead, I left it.
Up close — just an inch of the panel — those flaws expand into a world of their own. A web of cracks. Dots blooming out of line. Tones colliding in ways no plan would have controlled. The detail becomes the drama, and the accident becomes the collaborator.
It reminds me of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold. Not hidden, but highlighted. Wabi-sabi carries the same energy: imperfection and impermanence as beauty. What looked wrong at full scale feels vital in miniature.
And here’s the quiet tip buried inside the paint: don’t rush to fix the slip. Step closer. Sometimes the detail you wanted to erase is the one worth keeping. Sometimes the “oops” is the part that makes it whole.
