Paint the scent, not the rose

Paint the scent, not the rose

A quick guide for artists who want to create worlds—not just copy them.

I’ve been trying to write this damn email for three weeks. Just slicing it down to the core. No fluff.

Just this: How to use references. For real.

And trust me—nobody in school taught you this.

If you’re bleeding into your work and still feel like your painting has nothing to say—this might be for you.

This isn’t a trick.

If it hits you right, you’ll never see painting the same way again.

So here’s the deal…

Ever notice we don’t have names for smells?

We don’t describe the sensation—we just name the source.

We say: “Smells like sweat.” “Fresh bread.” “Roses.” “Firewood.”

The feeling? It’s just... floating. No entity. No weight.

Like the feeling’s just a ghost without a name.

We label the rose—but not the punch it gives your chest.

“Rose” isn’t the feeling.

It’s the fossil of the feeling.

The shell of what hit you.

That hit—the one that lands hard but has no name?

That’s the one we want.

Right?

And here’s where painting comes in.

We confuse the flower with the scent.

And we were taught to paint the flower.

Not the feeling it stirs up within us.

We paint what’s visible. The “rose.” The reference.

But the feeling it sparks?

That’s the scent.

That has no name.

That’s what we want. That’s the Art.

Back in school, we were taught to paint “roses.” But nobody ever taught us to paint “how it feels to smell a rose.”

And guys, that’s a killer.

That’s where the whole thing breaks.

Painting a perfect rose means nothing if it doesn’t move someone.

You’re not here to impress. You’re here to connect.

It’s not about sharp lines or clean technique.

It’s about that punch-in-the-gut moment. That dizzying blow.

That’s what you paint.

Instead, we polish the surface. Sharpen edges. Replicate reality.

And we pray—pray!—that this borrowed image says what we never dared to.

But here’s the truth:

Just because you nailed the reference doesn’t mean you captured the feeling.

So what do we do?

We double down. Try harder. Get better at painting the damn flower.

And we lose the feeling even more.

Let me put it straight:

The flower’s just the excuse. Not the message.

You don’t paint the rose.

You paint what the rose does to you.

The rose is just the reference.

It’s a tool. A trigger.

But it’s not the feeling itself.

Say it with me:

“You paint the feeling—not the reference”.

That’s why so much art feels flat.

It’s technically perfect—but emotionally empty.

Because the artist never tried to move you in the first place.

They just tried to be accurate.

And once you see that, it’s hard to unsee:

Don’t tell me where the feeling came from.

Make me feel it!

Now, I know what you're thinking—“Sounds great. But how the hell do I do that?”

Here’s the short version:

NOT with theory.

Theory’s a trap, the perfect recipe for frustration.

You’ll understand what’s wrong—and still stay stuck.

Theory makes you feel smart. But it won’t move you.

Theory doesn’t have enough emotional weight to shake your core.

Because change doesn’t start in your head.

It starts in your gut.

Through direct experience.

It’s the difference between reading about sex… and actually having it.

Between painting eyes… and painting a gaze.

You know what I mean.

You can’t logic your way into this.

You already know the answer. But your nervous system just won’t buy in. Period.

It won’t move unless something deep inside says MOVE.

And that only happens when it hits hard. When it shakes you.

So no—another class won’t save you.

You need experience.

Real, embodied, punch-in-the-stomach knowing ✊

Guys, we’re building something for October…

Something to snap you out of your head and into the real thing.

It’s about flipping your perspective—fast.

You’ll stop chasing perfection.

You’ll break your addiction to copying.

And start creating from what you feel when you see it.

You’ll paint the scent.

Not the rose.

We’re gonna rewire that obsession to “get it right”, and turn it into something alive.

We’re a hundred miles from being a school.

We’re not here to teach you anything.

But you’ll FEEL everything.

You won’t “get better.”

You’ll change.

You’ll paint from another place.

And your art will never be the same.

And yeah—it works.

The next experiment kicks off in October 2025:

APPLY FOR STRANGE HEAVEN.

P.S. — You know how it goes. Apply. We have a chat. If it clicks, you come to the island. 31% of the spots are gone. If you’re done with theory and ready for the shift—hit the red words up top ☝️

icon

Something we said lit a spark?

Good. Follow it.

Each week, one sharp idea to cut through the noise.

You’ll get instant access to all our books.

Including the one that’s helped hundreds “Overcoming Impostor Syndrome.”

Don’t be shy—getting a little weekly inspiration doesn’t tie you down.

Hate it? Unsubscribe.

Love it? Could change everything.