Choosing a Color Palette: Alchemy, Intuition, and a Little Bit of Witchcraft

There’s a secret rhythm to painting that you can’t always see at first glance.
Color isn't just what catches the eye — it’s the undercurrent, the spellwork behind every piece of art that resonates deep in your bones. And choosing the right color palette? That's where the real magic happens.

Whether I'm mapping out a melancholic elven portrait or designing a bright, mischievous nursery print, my process for choosing colors is always deliberate — part intuition, part centuries-old color theory, part "what if a sword could look like moonlight?"

Let’s talk about how you can build your own palettes with that same magic — and why what you put under the paint matters just as much as the paint itself.

First: Understand Your Color Schemes (and Your Intent)

Before I even touch a brush or stylus, I ask myself:
What feeling do I want to evoke?
What story am I telling?

Then, I choose a color scheme that supports that story. Here’s a quick breakdown of the main types I lean into:

Monochromatic
A monochromatic palette uses variations of one color — different tints, shades, and tones. Think of a painting where every note sings in blue, from deep navy shadows to whisper-soft misty blues.
Monochromatic palettes create harmony and calm. They're especially good when you want the mood to wrap around the viewer like a soft fog.

Analogous
Analogous color schemes use colors that sit next to each other on the color wheel — like green, blue-green, and blue.
These palettes feel natural, like the way the sky blends into the forest at twilight.
They’re great for pieces that need a dreamy, seamless energy without too much tension.

Complementary
Complementary colors are opposite on the wheel — think blue and orange, red and green, purple and yellow.
Using complementary colors introduces vibrancy and drama. It's the visual equivalent of a sword clashing against a shield.
I use complementary palettes when I want a piece to feel alive, dynamic, or just a tiny bit dangerous.

Split-Complementary
This one’s a softer riff on complementary. Instead of choosing the exact opposite color, you pick the two colors next to it. (For example, if your main color is blue, you'd use yellow-orange and red-orange.)
This method lets you create tension without the visual shouting match.

Triadic
Triadic color schemes use three colors evenly spaced around the color wheel, like red, yellow, and blue.
They’re bold, energetic, and a little mischievous — good for playful compositions (or anything involving tiny goblins, honestly).

Tetradic (Double Complementary)
Two sets of complementary pairs. This palette can get wild fast, but when done right, it feels luxurious and vibrant.
I think of tetradic palettes as a full medieval feast: rich, overwhelming (in the best way), and incredibly decadent.

The Hidden Power: Underpainting Colors

If color palettes are the music of your piece, the underpainting is the tuning fork.
It sets the vibration that everything else resonates from.

Choosing your underpainting color matters — sometimes more than the top layers themselves. Here’s why:

• It shifts the emotional temperature of the entire painting. A red underpainting brings warmth and aggression; a blue one adds calm or melancholy.

• It forces harmony. No matter how many layers you build, tiny whispers of that first color will peek through, tying the entire piece together.

• It can create luminosity. Think of a golden ochre glow behind translucent skin, or a dark purple that makes a misty forest look impossibly deep.

If you’ve ever wondered why some paintings seem to glow from inside — that's the underpainting at work.

When I start a piece, I almost never leave the canvas or digital base pure white. It feels like trying to grow a forest in sterile dirt. Instead, I stain it: warm ochres for sunlit pieces, cool violets for moody ones, dusty blues for anything ethereal.
It’s a simple move that adds layers of richness your eye can feel, even if it can’t always explain.

In Closing:

Choosing colors isn’t about memorizing rules or formulas. It’s about finding the energy you want to call into your work — and using every tool, from palette to underpainting, to summon it.

Art isn’t just paint on a surface. It’s architecture. It’s spellcraft. It’s an invitation to another world.

So next time you sit down to create, think like an alchemist.
Pick your elements with care.
Start your magic from the very first stroke.