Bill Alexander believed that joy—not technique—is the true foundation of great art. In this post, we explore how starting with a happy spirit can free your brush, energize your creativity, and transform your entire painting experience.

Hello Friend, On the very last night of our Alaska trip, Andy and I decided to take a drive. I was snapping photos of old buildings for our abstract class when I noticed a breathtaking sunset. The sky was glowing with color, and I couldn’t resist. I asked Andy to pull over, and then I saw it—a large, flat rock that looked like the perfect place to capture the scene. To reach it, I had to step across some uneven rocks. I made it out just fine and stood on that big rock with the sunset stretching wide in front of me. I lifted my camera and clicked. The result was everything I’d hoped for—a photo that stopped me in my tracks with its beauty. But coming back across those same uneven rocks, wearing my Hoka slides without much support, my foot caught. In an instant I was launched forward, hard. My shoulder and head slammed against the car, and then I hit the ground with my hip, arm, and hands. Andy jumped out, certain he’d find me badly hurt. I managed to get up, sore but intact. And later that night, I realized I had a choice. I could let my last memory of Alaska be the fall—the bruises, the pain, the shock. Or I could let it be the sunset—the moment of beauty I was determined to capture. That choice is what has stayed with me. And isn’t that how it often goes in life—and in art? We all have moments that hurt. We all stumble on uneven ground. On the canvas, too, we make mistakes, smudges, brushstrokes we wish we could take back. But in the end, the question is: where do we put our focus? If I chose only to remember the fall, my trip would feel heavy, painful, unfinished. But if I chose to remember the photo, the beauty, the stillness of that Alaskan sky—then I carry something forward that fills me with wonder. The fall taught me something practical (slides are not hiking shoes!). But the sunset taught me something more enduring: that the beauty we create, the moments we dare to capture, can outweigh the stumbles it took to get there. When you look back at your own journey—in painting or in life—what memory are you choosing to carry forward? With warmth, Laurie

Today, April 2nd is Bill’s 110th birthday.

Bill knew that not everyone understood the importance of using the right paint. That’s why he warned them to find a thick, thick paint.

The Old Masters knew a secret which made their paintings enduring masterpieces.

You were too big a boy or girl to have mommy leave a light on. There were no “nightlights” plugged into wall outlets back in those days.

In 1841 a portrait painter and tinkerer, John Golf Rand, invented the collapsible artist’s paint tube.

My mother was a math teacher. She was kind of famous in the county where she taught. Some folks told me she probably taught over half the kids in the county over her lifetime. It seems they either loved her or hated her. There was no in-between with mom.

He lost his mother at fourteen.

When you write every day of the week, it’s a blessing and a curse.

Painting is about expressing yourself. All art is about self-expression in one way or another. Whether you play a musical instrument, dance, or create an oil painting, you communicate your feelings with another human being.

Duane began his martial arts career as a teenager. He progressed through the ranks until he became a black belt in Isshinryu Karate. The more he studied, though, the more he felt something was missing. He wanted to learn more than his instructors could teach him.

“There is no purpose to purpose.” — Michael Gerber

Today’s video shows how much fun Bill had in front of the camera. He also gives us two valuable lessons. One has to do with painting. The other has to do with life.

We get this question a lot. “Which canvas is best for Bill’s method of oil painting?” It can be quite confusing when you walk into the art supply store. We are always surprised at the high prices these stores charge for canvas. You could stretch your own canvas, but watching the videos is enough to exhaust us. It’s worth it to pay a higher price and let someone else stretch your canvas.

“Value” is a term used by artists to describe the amount of light or dark in a color. When a color is lighter, we say it is higher in value. When a color is darker, we say it is lower in value.