Where My Abstract Art Really Begins

People often ask where my inspiration comes from as an abstract artist – and honestly, it’s not as thought-out as it might seem.

Most of my abstract art doesn’t start with a clear plan. It usually begins with a feeling, a colour, or just the need to get something out. I’ll start with an idea, but it almost always changes once I’m actually in the process of painting.

Creating original art for me is less about having a fixed outcome and more about responding to what’s happening on the canvas. I build layers, add marks, step back, change direction… and repeat. Sometimes it flows, sometimes it really doesn’t.

And then there’s that moment.

The point where the painting is about 80% done and I’m convinced I’ve completely fudged it. I’ve pushed it too far, overworked it, or lost whatever was working before. It’s frustrating, and for a second you think – maybe this one just isn’t it.

But I’ve realised that moment is actually necessary.

It forces me to stop painting on autopilot and really look. I start making more intentional decisions, stripping things back, rebuilding where needed. And more often than not, that’s when the piece starts to come together – not how I originally imagined, but in a way that feels more resolved.

The final piece is rarely what I had in mind at the beginning. It’s shaped by all those shifts, mistakes, and moments where I thought I’d ruined it.

That’s what I love about abstract art it holds all of that within it. The movement, the tension, the doubt, and the resolution.

Every piece of original art ends up being less about the plan… and more about what happens when things don’t go to plan.

And if you want to see more of the work (and the chaos behind it) check out my Instagram account: @art_by_nimakanji