The Art of Noticing: Finding Beauty in Ordinary Moments
By Blair Owens | September 2026Β | Discover the Art of Noticing
Sometimes beauty and inspiration aren't something we have to go looking for. Many times it's already there, waiting for us to notice.
It Usually Starts With the Art of Noticing
I've been thinking lately about how much of my artwork begins with a very ordinary moment.
A sliver of the moon as the day transitions to night.
The way sunlight catches the water.
A field of colorful flowers reaching towards the sky.
A butterfly landing on a bloom just before a summer rain.
None of these moments are especially unusual. Most of them probably happen every day somewhere. But every once in a while, I feel the pull to stop and really look.
And I've come to realize that noticing is an important part of being an artist.
Before I can paint something, I have to see it.
Like really see it. Not just glance at it as I drive by or walk past, but pause to consider the colors, the light, the movement, the feeling of the moment. In these moments, I usually take a photograph so I can return to it later.
I think that's where a lot of my paintings begin.
Beauty Has a Way of Interrupting Us
Earlier this summer, I was visiting grandparents with my children when a summer rain started moving in.
As everyone else ducked under the roof to get out of the rain, I noticed several swallowtail butterflies fluttering around the butterfly bushes. There were so many of them, beautiful and completely unbothered.
Of course, I had to grab my camera.
I stood there photographing the swallowtails as they moved from flower to flower, knowing that the rain would eventually chase them away.
It was such a small moment. But those are often the moments that stay with me.
I think that's one reason I keep coming back to nature as a source of inspiration. There is always something happening if we're willing to pay attention.
The light changes.
A flower opens.
The clouds shift.
A bird lands nearby.
A butterfly appears.
And then, just as quickly, the moment is gone.
Maybe that's part of what makes it worth noticing.
From Photograph to Painting
Photography has become an important part of my creative process because it allows me to hold onto some of those fleeting moments.
A reference photo isn't something I want to replicate detail for detail. It's simply a place to begin and explore the beauty I encountered. I'm thinking about what caught my attention in the first place as well as the feeling and atmosphere of the moment.
Maybe it was the color.
Maybe it was the light.
Maybe it was the way a particular landscape made me feel.
Sometimes I combine elements from several references. Sometimes I simplify a scene or change the colors slightly. Sometimes the painting ends up looking quite different from the original photograph.
But the feeling that made me stop and notice it is still there.
That's the part I'm really after.
Two New Paintings, Two Moments I Couldn't Stop Thinking About
This summer, two of those moments eventually found their way onto my pastel paper.
Field of Hope began with the warmth and abundance of a sunflower field beneath a colorful golden hour sky.
Carolina Twilight began with an evening at Carolina Beach. I had come with my family to watch the fireworks. While we were getting settled, I noticed the colors in the sky as the sun was setting and the moon was beginning to rise.
I remember thinking, π π―π¦π¦π₯ π΅π° π±π’πͺπ―π΅ π΅π©πͺπ΄.
I knew I wanted to capture that feeling of an evening sky, and working in pastel felt like the perfect medium to bring those colors and that atmosphere to life.
Sometimes a painting begins with a plan. But it always begins with noticing beauty in the ordinary.
There's something about working with pastel that feels especially connected to this idea of noticing. The pigment sits directly on the surface, and I can blend and layer colors with my fingertips. I can respond to color and light in a very tactile, sensory way.
These paintings are very much about color, light, and the feeling of a fleeting moment.
The originals will be making their way to future shows, and I'm looking forward to making prints of both pieces available very soon. I'll share the print release in my monthly newsletter, Beauty & Brushstrokes, so that's the best place to be notified when they're available.
Why Nature Continues to Inspire My Art
Living in Wilmington, North Carolina, I don't have to go far to find something that catches my eye.
The coast provides endless inspiration.
Marsh grasses move with the wind. The color of the water changes with the weather. Sunsets stretch across the horizon. Even familiar places can look completely different depending on the time of day.
And then there are the flowers, meadows, forests, and mountains that I encounter when we travel.
Nature gives me an endless supply of color and texture to explore.
But I think it's more than that.
There is something grounding about being reminded that beauty doesn't have to be extraordinary to be meaningful.
A marsh at sunset.
A field of sunflowers.
A butterfly in the garden.
Light falling across the water.
These are ordinary things.
And yet, when we stop long enough to notice them, they can feel like gifts.
That's what I want my artwork to do.
Not necessarily to recreate a place exactly as it looked, but to help preserve a feeling.
You Don't Have to Be an Artist to Practice Noticing
I've been thinking about this a lot lately: you don't have to be an artist to become better at noticing.
In fact, I think we could all use a little more of it.
Try looking up the next time you're outside.
Notice the sky.
Look closely at a flower instead of simply walking past it.
Pay attention to the colors around you.
Notice the way light changes in your home in the morning or late afternoon.
Take a photograph of something beautiful, even if you have no intention of doing anything with it.
Or don't take a picture at all. Just stop for a moment and look.
Because sometimes the best moments aren't the ones we plan.
They're the ones we almost miss.
Why I Call It Beholding
Maybe that's part of why the word behold has always felt so meaningful to me.
To behold something is more than simply seeing it.
It asks us to stop.
To pay attention.
To take something in.
To recognize beauty when it appears.
And I think that's what I'm trying to do with my art. I hope to takeΒ the moments that might otherwise go unnoticed and give them a place to stay.
A sunset over the marsh.
A meadow of wildflowers.
A stretch of coastline.
A butterfly resting on a sunflower.
A fleeting moment of beauty that caught my attention and made me stop.
This is what I want to keep painting.
A Little More from the Studio
This fall, I'll be bringing my artwork to the 30th Annual Art in the Arboretum Show & Sale here in Wilmington on October 10 & 11.
I'm especially excited to be part of this beautiful local event because it brings together two things that inspire me so much: art and nature.
I'll be sharing more about what I'm preparing for the show as we get closer.
If you're local, I hope you'll come say hello!
October 10 & 11, 2026
10:00 AMβ4:00 PM
New Hanover County Arboretum
Until Next Time...
The older I get, the more I think beauty is less about finding something extraordinary and more about learning to recognize what is already around us.
There is so much to see.
We just have to look.
Keep beholding beauty,
