Original Mixed Media Paintings: Making Room for Bigger Possibilities
Creating original mixed media paintings asks me to make room for possibilities I cannot always see at the beginning. Sometimes that happens quietly, through a new layer of paint or collage. Other times, it means submitting an exhibition application before the deadline and finding myself packing a 36-by-48-inch canvas for its first journey out of state. This week brought both kinds of growth—and reminded me that moving forward often begins before we feel completely ready.
That was me this week.
One moment, I was celebrating an exhibition acceptance. The next, Todd and I were surrounded by cardboard, protective corners, packing materials, and a very large painting that needed to travel safely to Cincinnati.
Creating original mixed media paintings has taught me to stay open to possibilities I cannot completely plan. Apparently, building an art career asks for the same thing—with considerably more bubble wrap.
After several weeks of soul-searching, criticism, and creative uncertainty, I could feel something beginning to shift. I was painting again. New opportunities were asking me to stretch. And a visit to an art fair reminded me just how much energy can come from being surrounded by people who care deeply about making and sharing art.
None of it unfolded neatly. But it reminded me that moving forward can be exciting, awkward, expensive, funny, and meaningful all at once.
A Creative Leap Wrapped in Bubble Wrap
I applied to ADC’s Art Comes Alive exhibition in Cincinnati on the deadline day. I had shown my work throughout the Washington, DC, Maryland, and Virginia region, but shipping a large canvas out of state was new territory for me.
I decided to submit and see what happened. Two days later, I received the acceptance.
I was thrilled. Then I looked at How Does Your Garden Grow?, my 36-by-48-inch mixed media painting, and realized that getting accepted was only the beginning. Now I had to figure out how to send it on its first major road trip.
Todd and I spent hours working through the packaging. Protecting a large painting requires thought, patience, and an impressive ability to negotiate with cardboard. By the time we finished, the shipping and materials had cost nearly $400.
Apparently, my painting has developed a taste for travel.
The expense was significant, and I felt it. This was a calculated investment in an opportunity, with no guarantee of a sale or a particular outcome. But I also felt proud that I had followed through. I had taken a step beyond what was familiar and worked through the practical challenges that came with it.
Sometimes courage looks like submitting the application. Sometimes it looks like figuring out the box.

Returning to the Mixed Media Layers
While that painting prepared to leave, two new 36-by-48-inch canvases were developing in the studio. After a difficult creative dry spell, I was finally making marks with curiosity again.
The paintings currently hold five or six layers of acrylic paint, paper collage, and pastel. They are in the messy middle: the stage when there is plenty happening on the surface, but the composition has not yet revealed how everything belongs together.
This is an essential part of my mixed media painting process. I begin intuitively, allowing color, movement, materials, and marks to guide the next decision. An unexpected line might suggest a shape. A piece of collage might introduce a rhythm. An area I cover may leave a trace that becomes more interesting than the original passage.
The surface gradually develops a history.
Some layers remain clearly visible. Others are softened, interrupted, or nearly hidden. Each contributes to the depth and character of the painting, even when viewers cannot identify exactly what came first.
Working this way asks me to tolerate uncertainty. There are moments when I love what is emerging and moments when I wonder whether I have made a spectacular mess. Often, those experiences occur within the same afternoon.
But I am learning to remain curious long enough for the next decision to become clear. After weeks of feeling disconnected from my work, being willing to enter that conversation again feels like a breakthrough in itself.
Why Some Original Mixed Media Paintings Need More Time
I had also planned to reveal four new 18-by-18-inch blue mixed media paintings. They contain luminous color, layered surfaces, and an atmosphere I am excited to share.
Their finishing process, however, had other ideas.
The initial varnish left a surface appearance that did not meet my standards. Rather than rush the release, I paused it so I could give the paintings the attention they needed.
It was frustrating. I wanted to celebrate the new work and keep the momentum going. But preparing original artwork for a collector includes more than reaching the final brushstroke. The finish, presentation, edges, documentation, and packaging all deserve care.
As an artist, I want the work leaving my studio to reflect that care. Sometimes that means adjusting the timeline.
There is a lesson here that I keep encountering: excitement does not eliminate the need for patience. A painting can be worth sharing and still need more time before it is ready.
Those four blue paintings are coming. They are simply taking the scenic route.
Bringing Original Art Into Everyday Spaces
Another meaningful step this week was delivering nine large original paintings from Through Me: Where Wonder Finds a Way for an ArtsFairfax exhibition at Springfield Town Center.
The exhibition is planned to remain on view through March 31, 2027, with an opening reception scheduled for October 21 at 5 p.m. I will share further reception details as they become available.
I love the possibility of someone encountering artwork during an ordinary day. They may arrive to shop, meet a friend, or complete an errand, then unexpectedly find themselves pausing in front of a painting.
Perhaps a color catches their attention. A mark reminds them of something. A shape invites them to move closer.
That small interruption matters to me.
My original mixed media paintings explore wonder, connection, and the freedom to remain curious. Sharing them in a public setting allows those ideas to meet people who may never have planned a gallery visit.
It also reflects what I hope happens when someone brings a painting home. The artwork becomes part of daily life: something encountered over morning coffee, noticed in changing afternoon light, or appreciated during a quiet moment at the end of a busy day.
A large statement painting can establish a room’s visual character while creating space for those smaller, more personal experiences.
Artists Inspiring Artists
Later that day, Todd and I visited an art fair in Washington, DC. Walking through the booths, looking at the artwork, and talking with artists and gallerists filled me with fresh energy.
There is something powerful about seeing so many distinct creative voices gathered in one place. Each artist brings a different relationship with materials, subjects, color, and composition. Moving from booth to booth becomes a series of discoveries.
I wanted to look closely. I wanted to ask questions. And I wanted to return to my studio.
After spending so much time inside my own creative questions, it felt good to step into a wider conversation. The fair reminded me that making art is deeply personal, but sharing it creates connection. A piece begins in one person’s hands, then meets someone else’s memories, emotions, and imagination.
For anyone curious about collecting original art, that direct connection can make a fair especially meaningful. You can experience the scale and surfaces in person, discover work you might never have searched for online, and sometimes speak with the person who made it.
For me, the visit also opened another possibility. I began imagining what it might feel like to share my own work from a booth in the future.
I have no announcement to make about that yet. But the idea has certainly followed me home.
Making Room for Your Own Next Step
A few weeks ago, I was keeping creativity small and chewable: tiny sketches, manageable marks, and gentle ways to remain connected when my energy was limited.
This week, I was packing a large painting, returning to substantial canvases, delivering work for an exhibition, and imagining future opportunities.
Those smaller steps helped me reach this point. They kept the conversation open until I had the capacity to expand it.
That is what I want to remember when another difficult week arrives. Progress can change size. Some days it asks for a thumbnail sketch. Other days it asks for a shipping label, a conversation, or an application that makes us a little nervous.
If there is something you have been considering, perhaps your next step is simply to make it more concrete. Ask the question. Gather the information. Try the small version. Give the idea enough attention to discover whether you want to follow it further.
You do not need to know the whole path before you begin. You need enough curiosity to take the next step—and, occasionally, someone willing to help you wrestle a very large box.
Discover the Stories Within the Artwork
The paintings I create carry these experiences within their layers: uncertainty, experimentation, patience, renewed energy, and the joy of discovering what comes next.
Visit preciousburger.com and explore Recent Paintings on my website to discover original mixed media paintings, look closely at their layered details, and read the stories behind the work. If a painting speaks to you, send an inquiry—I would love to help you imagine it in your space. 🩵
If a work speaks to you, send an inquiry with your delivery location so I can help you explore the next steps. 🩵
Precious Burger
Contemporary Mixed Media Artist
Washington, DC Area



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