The importance of texture in my work

Texture is something I return to again and again in my practice. It isn’t a secondary element or a detail I decide on at the end. It’s at the core of how I build, layer, and think about the surfaces I make. Over the years, I’ve realized that texture is one of the most important ways I connect my ideas to materials, and it’s one of the clearest through-lines across everything I do from collage, painting, printmaking, even digital design.

When I first started working with collage, I wasn’t fully aware of how much texture mattered to me. I thought I was just pulling different materials together and trying to create balance. But the more I experimented, the more I noticed that I wasn’t just thinking about color or composition…I was thinking about the way different papers felt against each other. Smooth magazine paper against handmade textured sheets. Glossy printouts layered over something matte. Torn edges sitting beside sharp, cut lines. The physical qualities of those papers were just as important as the images they carried.

Over time, I leaned into this awareness. Texture became a way to slow myself down. When I layer materials with different surfaces, I have to pause, adjust, and think about how those contrasts shift the overall feel of the piece. It keeps me from rushing ahead. Instead of asking only, “Does this look right?” I ask, “How does this feel on the surface? What happens if I let this rough edge stay exposed? What happens if I bury it under something smooth?” Those questions change the way I make decisions.

Texture as a Record of Process

One of the things I love about texture is that it records what has happened on the surface. If I scrape back paint, the marks remain. If I sand or tear, the evidence stays visible. Texture doesn’t let you cover up everything completely…there’s always a trace of what came before. That feels honest to me. It reflects the reality that making is layered, full of trial and error, and never as clean as a finished piece might suggest.

This is why I think texture has become such a key part of how I approach mixed media. It lets me keep the history of the piece alive. Even when I add new layers, I don’t erase the past. Instead, it shows through in subtle ways. I like that tension between what’s visible now and what remains hidden underneath.

Collage and the Surface Conversation

Collage naturally lends itself to texture because it brings multiple surfaces into dialogue. When I place one piece of paper next to another, I’m not only thinking about the imagery but also about the feel of those edges. Does this edge need to be raw and torn, or does it need the precision of a straight cut? Does the paper need to sit flat, or can it lift slightly to catch light and shadow? Those decisions affect how the work is read, and they’re often what gives the piece its depth.

I also like the unpredictability that comes with texture in collage. Glue doesn’t always cooperate. Papers buckle. Edges warp. Instead of fighting that, I try to let it happen and then respond to it. That little wrinkle in the surface might add a new dimension I wasn’t planning, and that becomes part of the final piece. It’s an exchange between control and chance, and texture is right in the middle of it.

Texture in Painting and Printmaking

In painting, texture shows up through the build-up of layers. I’ve never been interested in perfectly flat, smooth surfaces. I like the grit of brushstrokes that stay visible, or the places where paint gets thicker and more tactile. I often scrape paint back or sand it down, which leaves marks that feel essential rather than decorative. Those marks become part of the story of the work.

In printmaking, texture has a different role. The pressure of the press, the quality of the plate, the type of paper…all of those elements bring texture to the final print. Collagraph, for example, is entirely about surface. You build up textures on the plate, ink them, and see how they translate when pressed. The print isn’t just an image; it’s a record of those textures. I love that the process itself insists on surface as a central player.

Digital Work and the Pursuit of Tactility

Even in my digital work, I find myself chasing texture. When I design digitally, I often add scans of handmade textures (ex: brushstrokes, paper surfaces, ink marks) to bring back that tactile quality. It reminds me that even though the work might live on a screen, it doesn’t have to feel sterile. The digital can still carry the energy of touch.

I think this is one reason I don’t separate my analog and digital practices too strictly. For me, they feed each other. Digital work lets me test ideas quickly and manipulate surfaces in new ways. Analog work gives me the grounding of physical texture. When I bring them together, the work feels fuller.

Teaching Through Texture

Texture is also something I bring into my teaching. When I talk to students about materials, I remind them that surfaces matter. It’s easy to get caught up in imagery, color, or concept and forget about the physical quality of the work. But when students pay attention to texture, their work often gains a new dimension.

Sometimes this is as simple as asking them to switch papers or layer materials in unexpected ways. Other times, it’s about slowing down their process. I’ll encourage them to let earlier marks or mistakes remain visible, to embrace that record of process instead of trying to polish it away. Texture becomes a tool for honesty in their work, and that shift often makes the work stronger.

Viewer Connection

From the viewer’s perspective, texture is one of the first things people respond to. Even if they can’t touch the work, they can sense the tactile quality. A heavily layered surface draws them in differently than a smooth, flat one. I’ve noticed people leaning closer to see how a piece was built, tracing the surface with their eyes. Texture invites that kind of engagement. It slows the viewer down, just like it slows me down when I’m making.

Why It Matters

So why texture? Why has it become such a central part of my practice? I think the answer is simple: texture makes the work feel alive. It keeps the surface active, it keeps me present in the process, and it reminds viewers that art is not just an image but a material experience.

I don’t see texture as an embellishment. I see it as structure, history, and record. It’s one of the ways I stay connected to the act of making, and one of the ways I invite others into the work. Whether I’m layering papers in collage, building surfaces in paint, pressing textures in printmaking, or scanning handmade marks into digital pieces, texture is the constant. It’s what grounds my work and gives it the dimension I want it to have. Texture is not just about the surface…it’s about the process, the history, and the connection between artist, material, and viewer. For me, it’s essential.