I used to think so romantically about Monet, Pissarro, and the other Impressionists. Not romantic like Manet is so dreamy; romantic as in idealizing this particular group of painters—thinking they stepped outside of their studios and, snap, Impressionism just happened. Veneration can sometimes blind the mind’s eye to all the toil and planning that goes behind an elegant masterpiece. The reality is that the Impressionists were strategists, thinkers, and pioneering technicians when it came to the art they produced.

Breaking out of a painting rut sometimes requires a little more oomph than just adding another color to your palette or going from a still life to a figure painting. Sometimes your whole process needs an overhaul. A few years ago, artist Francis Di Fronzo took a fairly drastic measure to take his work to a new level. He set aside the traditional painting brush for a tool of his own invention-a "comb" with individual hairs seated along a length of wood.

I've been waiting all my life to have a red-carpet moment, but who knows when the Academy will get around to remembering my searing director's debut at the age of 14, when I put on a musical version of Hamlet to the theme song of The Beatles' "Obladi Oblada." (Maybe you had to be there.) So I've decided to take matters into my own hands—not to hog the limelight for myself, but to bestow accolades and acclaim to a few of the brightest and best resources in our Artist Daily store!

Palette knife painting sounds a little edgy and dangerous, but it’s really all about texture—the thick impasto swipes and flat sweeps of color that make up the surface of a painting. I’ve never created an entire painting with just a palette knife before, and I wanted to see what the appeal was for Melinda Matyas, a Hungarian-born artist who works in Romania. I found her work in the Member Gallery at Artist Daily just a few days ago.

After developing an unnatural dependency on my galoshes and stocking my kitchen shelves with an outrageous amount of sugary sweets in case of snowstorms, I’ve come to realize that it is nice to be on the inside, cozy and warm, looking out. My creature comforts appreciation has definitely also influenced the kind of painting composition that I’ve been into lately: the interior.

When I’m landscape painting I’m always drawn to the curious, in-between places where the outdoors and indoors meet. This could be an ivy-smothered barn that almost looks like it is disappearing into the landscape, or an ocean view from an open window. The places where architecture and the natural world collide make a composition eye-catching and compelling because they integrate elements that we usually think of as distinct and separate. Bringing them together creates a tension that some of the landscape paintings I like best have in common.