I don't often paint commissions. But when I do, I put my whole heart into them. It can be really enjoyable for me to come out of my own head and work on recreating a special moment for someone else. There's the pressure too. When you commission a painting, it's really important to me to get it right – to capture the feeling, and to make sure the finished piece is something you will get joy from every day.

After all, art is something you will live with for a long time. 

This painting was created as a Christmas gift. It's just in the final stages, where it gets a few coats of varnish to bring the colours out. Then it will be professionally framed and shipped off in time for Santa to deliver it. 

The process for me normally starts with a reference photo. To my mind, there are various ways to approach photographs as the starting point for a painting. Some artists work to develop photo-realistic techniques, so their finished painting looks like a photograph. I admire their application, but feel it can slightly miss the point. When I work from a photograph, I aim to find the emotion and the mood that comes with that. I work intuitively to capture the way that moment felt. When you have a photograph that is important enough to make you want to commission a painting, it's the memories that photo elicits, not just the way it physically looks, that matter.

Though of course, part of the memory is created by recognition. And so the way it looks is vital too.

This commission came from a repeat customer. She wants three paintings – one for each of her children to keep in the future. I love this idea. 

The feeling in the painting is one of childhood wonder and friendship. The closeness children sometimes have as siblings. There's magic in the craggy stones of the wall, and in the creatures that have crept into the painting. 

There's a sense of being held. Being happy. 

For this painting I worked mainly in oils. But I also used some heavy charcoal to add depth and texture to the stone wall. The wall was a prominent feature in the photo, but it risked looking boring when reimagined in paint. I spent time looking at stone walls while out walking, observing that no single stone in any wall was quite the same colour. And noticing plants growing between the stones, where there wasn't any soil to grow. 

I normally begin by sketching out the main shapes in pencil. You can see here that I got it wrong. I drew the little girl on the right first. I drew her too small. The way she is hanging on the wall makes her body long, and I messed up my measurement. 

However, that was easily corrected. 

Next, I block in the colour with oils and charcoal. At this point I'm still really sketching. I try to capture the movement and the composition. The way the shapes and colours react with each other. Even if things aren't accurate at this point, this stage forms the basis of whether or not the painting will work. It’s also a chance to experiment with the composition.

In fact, I'm deliberate in not trying to be accurate yet. Perfectionism can really kill a painting, so I make it my goal not to try too hard, not to get in my own way. The lines, shapes and details are all refined in later layers of paint. It’s a bit like practising a piece of music. I have to let it start off rough to find out where it wants to go. In a sense, the whole process is intuitive, right from the feeling, through trusting that it will come together.

As the painting progresses, I also try to make sure I don't lose the initial sense of movement. It can be easy to add too much paint, to become heavy and overwork it. Even in the last stages of this painting, I was very light in the way I approached the little girl on the left. She's pulling herself over the wall, her ponytail swinging joyfully. Too much paint and that movement disappears. 

To give a bit of extra texture, I recreated the gold dots on the dress using metal leaf.

I also add elements that aren't in the photos. My paintings always contain stories. I added the snail to give a focal point for the children. And there are other things to look at that may not immediately jump out. Details added just for fun. 

The end result? Well, this painting won't arrive in its new home until Christmas. But when I showed it to the person who is gifting it, the reaction was:

"Oh gosh. That’s so beautiful! Really lovely. Totally catches everything."

If you're interested in commissioning a painting, and want something that captures the mood of a special moment, maybe we can work together. And you can read more about my process, and what makes it possible to commission a painting and get the painting you want.