Watercolor 101: What I Wish I Knew Before Starting
Watercolor for Beginners
I remember the first time I sat down with a set of watercolors. I’d just moved my family to a rough hunting cabin in the middle of nowhere Rocky Mountains, and something in me was itching to create. I’d been a writer for years, built a whole career out of words, but there was this last niggling dream I couldn’t shake. I wanted to paint.
So I grabbed some supplies — the cheapest ones I could find, naturally — poured a glass of water, and stared at the blank page like it owed me something. Spoiler: that first painting was not a masterpiece. It was muddy and warped and honestly a little sad looking. But here’s the thing. I felt better. Not because the art was good, but because the act of making it quieted all the noise in my head in a way nothing else had.
If you’re just starting out with watercolor, let me save you some of the fumbling around I did. There’s a lot I wish someone had told me early on.
Your Supplies Actually Matter (I Learned This the Hard Way)
When I first started, I figured paint was paint. Paper was paper. Why spend more when you’re just learning, right? Turns out there’s a real difference, and it’s not just snobbery.
That cheap paper I bought? It buckled and warped the second water touched it. The pigments in those bargain paints were so chalky I couldn’t get any vibrancy no matter how hard I tried. I spent weeks thinking I was terrible at watercolor when really, I was just fighting my materials.
You don’t need to spend a fortune, but a few smart upgrades make everything easier. Here’s what I’d grab if I were starting over:
Paper: Look for 100% cotton watercolor paper. Cold-pressed is my go-to — it’s got enough texture to be interesting but smooth enough that you’re not wrestling with it. The biggest difference you’ll notice is that it absorbs water beautifully instead of turning into a wrinkly mess.
Brushes: A round brush in a size 6 or 8 will take you surprisingly far. Add a flat brush for washes and you’re set for most projects. Good brushes hold their shape and actually go where you point them, which matters more than I ever expected.
Paints: Artist-grade if you can swing it. The pigments are richer, the colors mix more naturally, and you’ll use less paint overall. If that’s not in the budget, a solid student-grade set is still leagues better than anything marketed for kids.
Don’t forget the basics either — a palette for mixing, clean water (you’ll go through more than you think), and a paper towel nearby for those oh-no moments.
For my full list of tried-and-true recommendations, check out my [supply guide here].
Embrace the Happy Accidents
This was the hardest lesson for me. And honestly, it took a while.
I’m someone who rode a motorcycle with a dog in a sidecar across North America. I’ve camped on deserted islands and pedal-paddled through wind storms. I’m not easily rattled. But sitting in front of a watercolor painting that bloomed in the wrong direction? That rattled me.
I’d get frustrated when colors bled where they shouldn’t. When a wash dried unevenly. When the painting in my head looked nothing like the one on the paper. I wanted to control it, and watercolor does not want to be controlled.
But here’s what I’ve come to love about it. Those little surprises — the unexpected bloom, the accidental splash that becomes the perfect shadow — that’s where the magic lives. Watercolor has a mind of its own, and once you stop fighting it and start working with it, everything changes.
If perfectionism is creeping in (and it will, trust me), try this: set a timer for ten minutes. Paint something with zero expectations. No plan, no reference photo, just you and the paint and whatever happens. Some of my favorite pieces started exactly this way.
Start With the Basics. Seriously.
When I first started painting, I wanted to jump straight into gorgeous loose florals and moody landscapes. I did not want to practice washes and color swatches. That felt boring.
But spending time on the fundamentals is like learning to balance on a motorcycle before you hit the highway. It’s not glamorous, but it’s what keeps you upright when things get interesting.
Three techniques that changed everything for me:
Wet-on-Wet: Wet your paper first, then drop in pigment and watch the colors flow and blend on their own. This is how you get those soft, dreamy skies and backgrounds. It’s also the technique that will teach you the most about letting go of control.
Wet-on-Dry: Apply wet paint onto dry paper for crisp, clean edges. This is your go-to for details, outlines, and anything that needs a little more precision.
Layering: Watercolor is transparent, which means you build depth by layering light washes and gradually going darker. It’s a slow build, but the results are worth the patience.
I have a [YouTube video walking through all three techniques] if you want to see them in action.
Patience Is Part of the Painting
If patience came naturally to me, I probably wouldn’t have ended up riding a motorcycle across a continent on a whim. So believe me when I say, learning to wait for watercolor to dry was its own kind of adventure.
I’ve smudged more paintings than I care to admit by jumping in too soon. Reached for the brush when a layer was still wet because I was excited, only to watch the whole thing turn to mud.
But I’ve learned to reframe the waiting. Drying time isn’t downtime. It’s thinking time. While one layer dries, I step back and look at where the painting wants to go. Are there details to add? Areas that need more depth? Sometimes I grab a cup of coffee and just sit with it for a minute.
Watercolor has a way of surprising you if you give it space to do its thing. Lean into the pause. It’s not wasted time — it’s part of the process.
Play. Experiment. Make a Mess.
One of my favorite things about watercolor is how much room there is to explore. Once you’ve got the basics down, the whole thing opens up.
Mix colors you wouldn’t expect to go together — you’ll be amazed at what happens. Grab a sponge, a toothbrush, a piece of plastic wrap and see what kind of textures you can create. Try painting loose and flowy one day, then tight and detailed the next. There’s no wrong way to do this, and the experimenting is half the fun.
I spent years telling myself I wasn’t an artist because I couldn’t draw realistic scenes. Turns out, I just hadn’t found my style yet. Give yourself permission to play and you might surprise yourself.
Building Confidence, One Brushstroke at a Time
Starting something new is vulnerable. I get it. There was a time in my life when I’d look at a challenge and only see ways to fail. I’d beat myself up before I even started. But I’ve learned — out on the road, in the mountains, and now at the painting table — that the only real failure is not trying.
A few things that helped me find my footing:
Start small. Paint swatches. Practice shapes. Get comfortable with how the water and pigment move before you tackle a full painting. There’s no rush.
Show up regularly. Even ten or fifteen minutes a day adds up. It’s not about marathon painting sessions. It’s about building the habit and letting yourself get a little better each time.
Keep your early work. I know, I know. But trust me on this. Months from now you’ll look back and be genuinely amazed at how far you’ve come.
Every brushstroke is a step forward. Give yourself grace. This is supposed to be fun.
Ready to Dive Deeper?
If you’re feeling the pull to start painting but could use a little more guidance, I’ve put together a [Complete Beginner’s Guide to Watercolor] — a 40-page companion packed with tips, resources, and tutorials to help you get going with confidence.
[Download it for FREE here.]
Go Make Something
Watercolor is one of the most rewarding ways I’ve found to quiet the noise, spark creativity, and just feel good. It takes some patience, a willingness to embrace the unexpected, and the courage to start before you feel ready. But that’s true of most things worth doing.
So grab your supplies. Get your water. Put brush to paper and see what happens.
And remember — it’s not about the masterpiece. It’s about the making.
You’ve got this.
