How the work is made
How long one painting takes
6 min read ▪ 29 August 2026
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Several weeks a canvas, in blocks of days, after months of nothing at all. That schedule is why there are twenty-three paintings here and not two hundred.
How long does an oil painting take?
Several weeks per canvas here, and that is only the painting. The photograph sits in the archive for months before anything starts. The weeks themselves are not continuous: days at a time, then a week of nothing, then more days. One canvas, Riae (Blue Hair), took four weeks of that and most of it was not spent on the figure.
- Months in the archive, then several weeks of painting, in blocks of days with gaps between them.
- No deadline, no client and no delivery date. Work happens when there is a reason to work.
- Twenty-three canvases exist in total. There is no second version of any of them.
The three phases
Most answers to this question give one number, and one number is wrong in an interesting way. There are three separate stretches of time here and only the middle one involves paint.
First the image is found and saved, and then it is left alone for months. Second, painting starts, and runs for several weeks in blocks of days. Third — and this is the part nobody counts — there are the gaps inside those weeks, which are not idle time and are not work either.
Add them together and a canvas that took several weeks of painting has been in progress for the better part of a year. That is not slowness for its own sake. It is what the method costs.
Months in the archive
The image is saved without any decision being made about it. In the painter’s words: at that point I decide nothing, I just save it, and then it sits there until it starts asking for something.
Then it sits. Months, in most cases. The archive is not a shortlist and it is not a schedule; it is a pile of images that have not yet made their case. Some never do.
The reason this counts as part of the making is that it does the job a sketch would otherwise do. There is no sketch here, and no plan. What decides whether a canvas gets started is whether the image is still pulling at him after several months of being ignored, which is a slower filter than a drawing but a considerably more honest one.
Days at a time, then nothing
The same phrase appears under painting after painting on this site: days at a time, then a week of nothing, then more days.
That rhythm is not a productivity system and it is not a claim about inspiration. His own explanation of the pace is short: that is not a technique, it is how long it takes me to look at one image properly.
The material allows it, which is worth knowing if you have never used oil paint. Oil stays workable for days and dries far too slowly to punish a pause, so a canvas can be left half-decided and picked up again without a seam showing. A week away is also the cheapest way to see a painting the way a stranger sees it: you come back and the thing you were pleased with on Thursday is obviously wrong the following Wednesday.
Where the time goes
| Phase | How long | What happens |
|---|---|---|
| The archive | Months | The image is saved and left alone. Nothing is decided |
| The painting | Several weeks | Days at a time, with gaps of days or a week between them |
| The longest one on record | Four weeks | Riae (Blue Hair). Most of that canvas is not the figure but what she is kneeling on |
| The whole series | Twenty-three canvases | One painter, no assistants, no second version of anything |
The third row is the useful one, because it shows where the weeks actually go. It is rarely the face. On that canvas the majority of four weeks went into a surface underneath the figure, and the painter’s own comment is that he could not tell you why it had to take that long.
Sizes run from 50 × 30 cm to 120 × 100 cm and every canvas is portrait format, which affects the time less than people expect. What takes weeks is deciding, not covering.
Why there is no deadline
There is no client waiting, no gallery calendar and no release date. The line under one of the largest canvases puts it plainly: I only work when I want to work, which means nobody was waiting on a delivery date.
Another says the same thing from the other side: no deadline, no client, nothing here smoothed out for a market.
This has a visible consequence, and it is the argument for the whole method. A painting made to a schedule has to be finishable on a particular Friday. Every decision inside it is made under that pressure, and the ones that would take another two weeks to get right quietly do not get made. Removing the deadline removes that filter. It also means nobody can tell you when the next canvas will be ready, which is the price.
What it means if you are buying one
Three things follow from the arithmetic, and all three are checkable rather than atmospheric.
There is one of each. Twenty-three canvases exist and none of them has a second version. That is not a scarcity strategy; it is what happens when one person paints for several weeks at a time.
When a painting goes, it goes. Nine of the images also exist as a signed print, capped at fifty and never reprinted — see what you get for €35. The rest exist only as the canvas.
A shop with two thousand originals is doing something else. Not necessarily something dishonest, but not this. The arithmetic will not carry it, and that is the one test of a studio that requires no taste at all. The rest of the tests are in where to buy erotic art online without ending up on a print farm.
What actually happens at the end of those weeks — how a canvas stops — is a separate question with a stranger answer: when is a painting finished. The paintings in the series are here.
What those weeks add up to, and what the word “original” commits to here, is on what an original oil painting is.
Questions people ask
How long does an oil painting take?
Several weeks per canvas here, worked in blocks of days rather than continuously, and that is after the source image has sat in the archive for months. One canvas, Riae (Blue Hair), took four weeks of painting. A finished work has usually been in progress for the better part of a year.
Why paint in blocks of days instead of every day?
In the painter’s own words: that is not a technique, it is how long it takes to look at one image properly. He also says he only works when he wants to work, which means nobody is waiting on a delivery date. The material permits it — oil stays workable for days and a pause leaves no seam.
How many paintings are there in the series?
Twenty-three canvases, painted by one person with no assistants, ranging from 50 by 30 cm to 120 by 100 cm and all of them portrait format. Nine of the images also exist as a signed print.
Why is there only one of each painting?
Because of the arithmetic. Several weeks a canvas, worked in blocks with gaps, by one painter, produces a small number of paintings and no duplicates. Each is signed, one of one, and comes with a certificate of authenticity. Nothing is repainted as a second version.
