Lost in the Landscape? Why Baby Steps (and a Little Guidance) Make All the Difference

Andrea Gianchiglia Author

Have you ever stared at a blank canvas or sketchbook with a gorgeous reference photo pulled up—maybe a sweeping mountain view, a shimmering lake, or a quiet forest trail—and thought, “Where on earth do I even start?”

Welcome to the beautiful overwhelm of landscape art. You’re not alone, my friend. We’ve all been there: caught in the grand vastness of nature and frozen by the bazillion tiny choices ahead. (Is the tree leafy or bare? Is that water moving? What even is that blob—grass? Bush? A sneaky rock?)

The other day in yoga class, my teacher gently reminded us, “Every baby step matters. That’s how you grow into who you are meant to be.” And wow, did that hit home—not just for life, but for landscapes too.

Because when it comes to painting or drawing a landscape, it really does feel like trying to climb a mountain barefoot sometimes. You start with big shapes... then fall into the weeds (literally!) trying to figure out every little detail. It’s easy to second-guess your colors, your marks, your entire creative life plan.

Been there. Still go there. But here’s the truth: every brushstroke, every awkward attempt, every “why-does-this-tree-look-like-a-broccoli-floret?” moment is part of the journey.

If you’re feeling stuck or unsure, try this:

• Zoom out before you zoom in. Start with big shapes and values. Don’t worry about the type of tree or whether that’s a birch or a beech yet.
• Choose a season and commit. You don’t need to capture every possibility. Let it be autumn. Or spring. Just pick one and let the rest fall into place.
• Limit your palette. Fewer color choices = less decision fatigue. (Yes, even the greens. And yes, you can still add purple. 😉)
• Give yourself grace. This is supposed to be fun, remember? Even when it feels like a puzzle missing half its pieces.
• Ask for help when you need it. Because growth doesn’t happen in isolation—it happens in community, with cheerleaders, guides, and that one person who reminds you to just keep going.

You don’t have to master it all at once. You don’t even have to like everything you make. You just have to show up, take the next step, and trust that those baby steps are laying the groundwork for the artist you’re becoming.

The wobbly trees, the muddy skies, the weird rocks? They’re all part of the process. And guess what? They’re teaching you more than you realize.

If you're craving more clarity in your landscape work—or just want a friendly voice to walk you through it—I’d love to invite you to my upcoming free online landscape workshop on June 10. We’ll explore composition, color, movement, foliage choices, and more… all broken down into small, doable steps.

And if you love that, you'll be the first to hear when my Creative Journey membership opens its doors again right after the workshop. It's where we go deeper, build confidence, and take baby steps together.

Because you don’t have to climb the mountain alone—and you might just discover that the view is even better with a little hand-holding along the way.

So here's your reminder for today: baby steps are still steps. And each one you take brings you closer to the creative, confident artist you're meant to be.

(Also, when in doubt? Add purple.) 

💜Andrea