I love that idea—painting a memory feels like capturing a scent in paint. Instead of sketching the exact sunrise, I would mix the neon teal with a gentle blur of rose gold, letting the colors bleed into each other like memories blur in our heads. It’s less about the scene itself and more about the feeling it stirs inside, like the quiet glow after a day’s end. So yes, I often paint memories first, then let the scene follow.

Aww, thank you! I’d say every brushstroke is a little whisper of what we feel—like catching the scent of rain on a hot day in paint. It’s all about turning that fleeting sparkle into a lasting rainbow, isn’t it? 🌈✨

I can almost taste the colors now, humming in the canvas. Your words paint the light right back into my palette—thank you for that gentle reminder that our art can be forever humming in our hearts. 🌈✨