Studio Notes - Painting With My Hands

This week in the studio I used my hands to paint.

I had a couple pieces that I didn’t quite know where to go with. One of them I painted over at least three times. It felt like I needed to do something drastic. Something wild. So, I used my fingers.

I discovered that smearing, smudging, and blending worked different with the natural and unique grooves etched into my hands. Different than brush strokes. The paint felt smooth as I used it to create juxtaposed contrast between shades of yellow, blue, neon pink and orange.

While I made an unapologetic mess, I couldn’t help but think:

“Is this how my ancestors felt, painting on cave walls? Did they use berries or sap to create paints? Then use their own primitive tools (hands) to document the world around them?”

They did this with uncertainty. With no idea that some slightly more evolved apes would find their drawings years later and study them in awe. I presume they didn’t know that these drawings would be famous, or mesmerizing. They were simply existing and surviving.

Perhaps that’s what I’m striving to do these days, too. Exist. I used to choose chaos at the cost of certainty. It was a quick fix requiring a steep down payment coupled with a very low return. At the time, it was all I knew. And all that I had seen.

I’m grappling with uncertainty like an old foe I knew long ago and never quite conquered. I know there is freedom is letting go. So why do I still grip so tightly?

When I let go, becoming messy and creative, I felt freely connected. I was able to take a piece that had been plaguing me and turn it into something I enjoyed.

Plague is a strong word. Perplexed may be more accurate. She just needed some time and an old-fashioned approach.

I’m going to New York next week where I will surely be spending hours at the Museum of Modern Art. I love traveling solo. I feel like I always discover new parts of myself on the road. I’m grateful to be able to do so.

My paintings serve many roles in my life. One of them being a sacred mirror. They show me my strengths and shadows with grace while whispering “we believe in you”.

This week in the studio there’s paint on my hands, uncertainty on my mind, and visions of New York city skylines.

Giving grace to myself and others,

Sierra Koch

6-28-26