Last spring my neighbour handed me a bunch of flowers from her garden over the fence, wrapped in newspaper, and I painted them that same evening because I did not want to forget how they looked. The painting was far from perfect, but it caught the looseness of the stems and the way the petals overlapped, and I have been painting flowers ever since. Flowers forgive a wobbly hand in a way that buildings and faces never do, which makes them an ideal place to start.
I paint most of these at the kitchen table with a jar of water, a few brushes, and whatever flowers I have to hand, sometimes just a photo on my phone when nothing is in season. The ten ideas below move from very simple dots and dabs to slightly bolder techniques, and each one stands on its own, so you can pick them in any order.
1. Simple Dotted Wildflower Meadow
This meadow is made almost entirely of dots, which sounds too easy until you try it and realise how pretty it looks. I painted thin, wobbly stems in green first, letting them lean at different angles, and then dotted flower heads along the tops using the end of a brush handle dipped in paint. I use three or four colours, pink, yellow, white, and a soft purple, and I keep the dots uneven in size so the meadow looks wild rather than planted in rows.
The mistake I made at first was dotting too neatly, in straight lines, which looked like a chart instead of a field. Now I cluster the dots, leave patches of plain green grass between them, and add a few dots lower down the stems as if some flowers have already dropped their petals.
2. Loose Watercolor Lavender Stalks
Lavender stalks are my go-to when I only have twenty minutes, because they need so little fuss to look convincing. I paint the stems with quick upward strokes of sap green, then dab small purple ovals down the top of each stem, pressing a little harder at the base of the bud cluster and lighter towards the tip. Leaving tiny gaps of white paper between the dabs keeps the flower head airy, and that airiness is what separates a fresh-looking lavender painting from a heavy, overworked one.
I mix my purple from ultramarine and rose, which gives a softer result than the purple straight from the pan, and I add a drop more blue for the shaded side of each stalk. If your stalks all lean the same way, turn the paper around halfway through and paint a few from the other direction, so the bunch feels gathered rather than combed.
3. Modern Minimalist Poppy Silhouettes
Poppies in silhouette are striking because the flower shape is so bold that you hardly need any detail at all. I paint a soft background wash first, usually a warm cream or pale peach, and once it is dry I paint the poppy heads in a strong red-orange, using a round brush to shape each petal in two or three strokes. The stems are single dark lines, painted with a steady hand, and I leave the centres as simple dark blobs rather than trying to paint every stamen.
The key here is confidence in the brushstroke, which sounds harder than it is: if a petal goes wrong, I let it dry and paint over it, since watercolour layers hide small slips well. I keep the number of flowers low, three or four at most, because a single bold poppy against empty paper has more impact than a crowded bunch.
4. Fluffy Hydrangea Blooms
Hydrangeas look complicated, but they are really just a cloud of small four-petalled shapes piled together, and that cloud effect hides a lot of imperfection. I start with a big, soft blob shape in a pale blue or pink wash, then add dozens of tiny petal dabs on top while the wash is still damp, so the edges melt into each other. I vary the colour slightly across the bloom, with deeper blue on one side and a hint of violet on the other, which gives the flower its rounded, fluffy feeling.
My first hydrangea looked flat because I used one single colour throughout, so now I always mix at least three shades before I start. A few darker dabs tucked into the gaps between petals create shadow and depth, and I paint the leaves afterwards in a mid-green so they frame the bloom without competing with it.
5. Sunlit Sunflower Head
A sunflower is all about the contrast between the bright yellow petals and the dark, textured centre, and getting that contrast right makes the whole painting sing. I paint the centre first in a warm brown, dabbing on texture with a dry-ish brush, then paint the petals radiating outwards in two layers of yellow, a pale wash followed by a stronger gold on the shaded side. I keep the petals slightly uneven in length, because a real sunflower is never perfectly symmetrical, and that imperfection makes it feel alive.
I learned to leave a thin white line between the centre and the petals, which stops the brown from bleeding into the yellow and keeps the flower crisp. If your yellow looks washed out, add a touch of orange to the second layer rather than more yellow, since that warms the colour without making it muddy. One large sunflower head filling most of the page is a cheerful project, and it dries fast enough to give as a same-day gift.
6. Cute Cherry Blossom Branches
Cherry blossom is one of those subjects that looks delicate even when the painting is quite simple, because the pale pink does so much of the work. I paint the branch first in a dark brown-grey, with a slight upward curve and a smaller twig or two branching off, and I let that dry before adding any blossom at all. The flowers are five small petals dabbed around a centre dot, painted in a pale pink wash, and I cluster them along the branch with gaps of bare wood showing through, which keeps the painting from looking like a pink blob.
A few deeper pink dabs in the middle of each cluster give depth, and a tiny yellow dot in the centre of some flowers adds a spark of warmth. My early blossom paintings looked too dense because I filled every gap, so now I count to three clusters per branch and stop there.
7. Moody Dark Background Tulip
Painting a bright tulip against a dark background feels dramatic, and it is much easier than it looks once you paint the flower first. I paint the tulip in a strong red or coral, with a lighter wash on the side that catches the light, and I let it dry completely before I touch the background at all. Then I wash a deep green-grey or indigo around the flower, carefully painting up to the petal edges, and the bright tulip suddenly pops forward as if it were lit by a spotlight.
The background wash needs to be even and confident, so I mix plenty of paint beforehand and work quickly with a large brush, rather than going back over half-dry areas. If paint creeps onto the petals, I lift it gently with a damp brush while it is still wet, and a small slip actually adds to the moody feel rather than ruining it. This is a good painting to try once you are comfortable with basic washes, and it always draws comments when it is on the wall.
8. Loose Expressionist Peony
A peony in a loose style is pure joy to paint, because you can be bold with colour and brushwork and the flower still reads as a peony. I start with a wet wash in the middle of the page and drop in rose, magenta, and a touch of orange, letting them swirl together while the paper is damp, then I shape the outer petals with stronger strokes once the centre has dried a little. I do not draw the petals beforehand, which felt scary the first time, but it freed me from stiff outlines and gave the flower a soft, blousy shape.
The leaves are painted loosely too, in a single green wash with a darker vein line added while the wash is still wet, so the line softens and blends. If the painting starts to look muddy, I stop and let it dry completely before deciding what it needs, since wet watercolour always looks darker and messier than the finished result.
9. Sweet Daisy & Chamomile Pattern
Daisies are the flowers I painted as a child, and they still make me smile every time I sit down with them. I paint the centres first in a warm yellow, with a slightly darker dot in the middle for depth, then add the white petals as elongated shapes around each centre, leaving the paper itself to do the work of the white colour. The stems are thin and slightly curved, painted in a light green, and I scatter a few tiny leaves along them rather than drawing a leaf on every stem.
For a pattern version, I repeat the same small daisy across the page at different angles and sizes, keeping the spacing relaxed so it feels like a scattered print rather than a grid. My mistake in the past was making every daisy identical, which looked like wallpaper, so now I vary the number of petals and let some flowers tilt sideways. This is a gentle, meditative painting to do in the evening, and it works beautifully as a border design for a handmade card.
10. Abstract Acrylic Pour Floral Blow
This last idea is a little different, because it uses fluid acrylic paint and a straw instead of a brush, and the result looks like a flower exploding into colour. I put a small puddle of thinned paint in the centre of a primed canvas or heavy paper, then blow gently through a straw from the centre outwards, which pushes the paint into petal-like streaks. I use two or three colours that sit well together, like teal, gold, and white, and I blow in short bursts so I can control the direction of each streak.
The paint needs to be thin enough to move, about the consistency of single cream, and I mix it with pouring medium, which costs around eight euros for a small bottle here in Munich. Cover your table well, because this technique splashes, and wear an old shirt, as I learned after ruining a favourite jumper on my first attempt. Once it is dry, which takes a full day, the flower shape stays crisp and glossy, and no two pours ever come out the same.
Flowers have taught me more about patience and letting go than any other subject I paint, because you cannot force a petal to behave. If one of these ideas calls to you, try it this weekend with whatever paints you already own, and do not worry about buying anything new first. The best flower painting I ever made was painted with a cheap student set on the back of an old sketchbook page, and it still hangs in my bedroom today.