Like many beginners, I fell in love with the idea of gouache long before I truly understood how to work with it. The vibrant colors, the matte finish, the beautiful illustrations I saw online — they all made it feel like a dream medium. And it is. But as with any new creative tool, there’s a learning curve. When I look back on my early gouache paintings, I see not just progress, but lessons. Real, practical things I wish someone had told me at the start. Things that would’ve made the journey smoother and more joyful.
The first thing I wish I had known is how important the right paper is. In the beginning, I used whatever paper I had on hand — sketchpads, printer paper, even notebook pages. The result? Warping, tearing, uneven textures, and a lot of frustration. Gouache needs a surface that can handle water and layering. Once I discovered thick watercolor paper or mixed media pads (usually at least 200gsm), everything changed. The paint flowed better, the colors sat beautifully on the surface, and I spent more time enjoying the process instead of fighting with materials.
Another lesson came with understanding that gouache is reactivatable. That’s one of its strengths, but it also surprised me early on. I didn’t realize that when you add a new layer, especially with too much water, you can disturb what’s underneath. At first, I thought I was doing something wrong. I didn’t know that letting each layer dry fully — even for a few minutes — could make the whole process much more manageable. It helped me create cleaner lines and more intentional layering.
I also underestimated how much water changes everything. The balance between water and pigment is delicate. Too much water, and your paint turns into something closer to watercolor. Too little, and it can feel sticky or patchy. Finding that sweet spot took time, and no one formula fits all. I had to learn by feel, by experimenting, by making a mess. I wish I’d known that messing up is part of the learning — not a failure, but an invitation to understand the medium more deeply.
Another thing that would’ve helped? Knowing that you don’t need every color in the store. I used to think I needed a huge palette to make anything worthwhile. But some of my favorite pieces were made with just a few colors. Learning to mix tones, shades, and hues gave me a stronger sense of ownership over my work. It also made me a more thoughtful artist. Simplicity, I learned, often leads to better results.
Finally, I wish I had allowed myself more freedom to paint “badly.” I spent too much time trying to get things right instead of letting myself explore. Gouache, as it turns out, is a wonderfully forgiving medium. You can paint over mistakes, adjust shapes, add new layers — there’s so much room for play. But I didn’t know that at first. I thought every painting had to be perfect. Now I know that the beauty of gouache lies in its flexibility, and the more I treat it like a conversation rather than a performance, the more joy it brings.
Looking back, I don’t regret those early mistakes — they were part of the process. But I do believe that sharing them can help others begin more gently. If you’re starting your own gouache journey, remember that it’s okay to not know everything. Your skills will grow with each painting. Your style will emerge through practice. And the more freedom you give yourself to experiment, the more confidence you’ll find in your own hand.
So take your time. Choose the good paper. Let the layers dry. Don’t overthink the supplies. And let yourself make bad paintings — because they’re never really bad. They’re just steps on the way to something wonderful.