Limited Palette, Unlimited Emotion: The Beauty of Custom Pastel Pieces

There’s something magical about creating with a limited palette. Fewer colors don’t mean fewer possibilities—if anything, it opens the door to a whole new world of creativity and emotion. For me, this approach shines brightest in my prairie grass paintings, where the simplicity of color leads to something deeply expressive and personal.

The Power of a Limited Palette

I love the way a carefully chosen selection of colors can bring a piece to life. When I create a limited palette painting, I usually work with 5-7 colors, sometimes chosen by me, sometimes by a client. Pinterest is one of my favorite places to find exciting color palettes, and I also love when a collector requests a piece in their own favorite hues—it always leads to a unique and meaningful creation.

There’s a back-and-forth conversation happening between my reference images and my creative instincts. While I mostly follow what I see in a reference, I love adding unexpected highlights, a touch of something extra that brings the piece together. And the challenge of working within a limited palette? It forces me to get creative. Instead of black, I reach for deep blues, maroons, or browns. Instead of stark white, I find softer, warmer alternatives. The balance of colors is everything—no single hue can take over, even if I secretly want it to. (Let’s be real, I love them all!)

One of my favorite limited-palette pieces is a prairie painting I created early on in my journey. It isn’t for sale and doesn’t even have a name, but every time I look at it, I feel so much joy. The greens melting into purples, the warmth of burnt orange—it lights up my brain in the best way possible.

Emotion Through Simplicity

Can a limited palette make a piece more emotional? Yes and no. The colors have to be right, just as they do in any piece. The way pastels are used, how the painting is structured, how the strokes interact—these are what create feeling. I’m intentional about the emotions in my studio, too. If I’m not in a good headspace, I step away. There’s no need to force myself into the myth of the tortured artist. Creativity should feel expansive, not draining.

I once painted a small landscape using a collector’s brand colors, and the way she connected with it was so special. It had movement, emotion, and a piece of her in it. That’s the beauty of custom work—it’s not just about me as the artist, but about the connection someone else feels when they see their own story reflected in the piece.

The Beauty of Custom Work

When someone commissions a custom landscape, my goal is to make it as personal as possible. We talk—sometimes over email, zoom, or sometimes in person. I create a small study first, a sort of test piece, so they can provide feedback before I move on to the larger painting. Communication is key in commissions, and it’s a joy to bring someone’s vision to life.

And let me tell you, every commission is humbling. Someone sees my work, connects with it, and trusts me to create something just for them. It’s deeply validating, and I never take that for granted.

My Process & Insights

I always begin with the sky. It gives me space to work the horizon without having to fight with it later. I try to plan my colors ahead of time, but there’s always room for flexibility. Sometimes, a color that seemed perfect just doesn’t work in practice, and that’s okay—I adjust. Art is a conversation, not a strict set of rules.

Working with constraints can be freeing. Decision fatigue is real, and having fewer colors to work with means I can focus on the painting itself rather than feeling overwhelmed by too many choices. That said, I also need breathing room—too many constraints, and I start to feel creatively stifled. It’s all about balance.

For anyone wanting to try a limited palette, my advice is simple: just play. Get to know your pastels, experiment, and don’t overthink it. Some pieces will turn out, some won’t, and that’s part of the process. The key is curiosity—let yourself explore.

Encouragement for Fellow Artists & Collectors

If you’re an artist hesitant to try a limited palette, I say: go for it. No one has to see your first attempt but you. Treat it as a warm-up, a way to loosen up and take the pressure off.

For collectors commissioning a custom piece, choosing colors can be deeply personal. Some people pull from their brand or wedding colors. Others choose hues from a cherished memory or a beloved photograph. If you’re unsure, we can look at your home and wardrobe—what colors do you naturally surround yourself with? Whatever we choose, it will be intentional, and it will be yours.

At the end of the day, my hope is that when people see my limited-palette landscapes, they feel calm. I want them to see the wind moving through an endless prairie, to feel a sense of openness, of hope. Nature has a way of grounding us, and if I can bring a little of that into someone’s home, then I’ve done my job well.

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