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The Power of Abstract Expressionism: Emotion in Form
Brian Iselin
9/5/20245 min read


Abstract expressionism has always had a powerful hold on me. There's something incredibly freeing about the idea of creating without worrying about structure, precision, or perfect representation. For me, it’s all about emotion—about letting the paint and brush speak for themselves. This form of art has been one of the most liberating experiences in my creative journey. It allows me to express feelings and ideas that I couldn’t possibly put into words, and it’s in this freedom that I feel the most alive as an artist.
Color as Emotion
One of the things I love most about abstract expressionism is how it allows me to use color as a direct expression of emotion. There’s no need to adhere to realism or match things up to how they would appear in the world. Instead, I get to let my mood or thoughts drive the color choices. If I’m feeling a surge of energy, I might reach for bold reds, electric blues, or bright yellows. These colors don’t necessarily "represent" anything specific, but they convey a feeling, a certain intensity that words just don’t capture.
On the flip side, there are times when I’m feeling more reflective or down. During those periods, I might gravitate toward deeper, more muted tones—dark blues, grays, or earthy greens. These aren’t decisions I make consciously. I don’t sit down and think, “Okay, I’m sad today, so I’ll use blue.” It’s more like the emotion flows through me and finds its way onto the canvas. Color becomes the language I use when spoken words don’t do the trick.
There’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing a blank canvas transform into a burst of colors that reflect what’s going on inside my head. And since I only sell one copy of each piece, it feels like the emotion captured in that moment is preserved forever—locked into that single canvas, never to be replicated.
Forms Without Rules
When it comes to form, abstract expressionism is all about breaking away from the rules. I’ve never been the kind of artist who enjoys strict guidelines or following traditional structures. What excites me is the idea of letting forms emerge organically—without any predetermined plan.
Sometimes, I’ll start a painting with no idea of where it’s going. The brush moves, the shapes take form, and I follow along, almost like I’m just along for the ride. The absence of strict rules gives me room to explore, to see where the piece takes me. It might end up looking like nothing at all—just a collection of shapes, colors, and lines. Or, unexpectedly, a recognizable form might emerge. But whether it’s something abstract or something more defined, the process of discovering it along the way is the part I love most.
Being bipolar has a lot to do with this approach as well. When I’m in a manic state, the forms that emerge tend to be bold, jagged, and fast. It’s like my hand can’t move quickly enough to keep up with my thoughts, and the forms that appear on the canvas reflect that energy. On the other hand, during depressive episodes, my movements are slower, more deliberate. The forms become softer, less aggressive. The process slows down, and the forms that emerge seem to mirror the more subdued mood I’m in.
Texture as Feeling
One thing I’ve come to appreciate more and more in abstract expressionism is the use of texture. It’s not just about what you see; it’s about what you can feel—even if you can’t physically touch it. When I work with thick layers of paint, letting the brushstrokes and palette knife create ridges and valleys on the canvas, it adds a whole new dimension to the piece.
I like to think of texture as another way to convey emotion. If a piece is chaotic, if the emotion behind it is intense, I’ll layer the paint, scratch into it, and let the canvas become rough and raw. On the other hand, if I’m working through something more peaceful or introspective, the texture will be smoother, with softer strokes that almost glide across the surface. It’s a way of translating the way I’m feeling into something tangible.
When someone looks at one of my textured pieces, I want them to almost feel the emotion in the way the paint moves. You don’t need to touch the canvas to sense the energy in the layers of paint—the texture does the talking. I think that’s one of the beautiful things about abstract expressionism—it’s not just what you see; it’s what you feel, both emotionally and physically.
Letting Go of Control
For me, abstract expressionism is also about letting go of control. When I’m creating in this style, I’m not aiming for perfection, and I’m not trying to follow a strict path. In a way, it’s about giving up control to the art itself. I’ve learned to trust the process, to allow the paint, the brush, and my mood to dictate what happens on the canvas. It’s a vulnerable place to be, but it’s also where some of my best work comes from.
Being bipolar makes this process of letting go even more significant. My moods can be unpredictable, and abstract expressionism allows me to embrace that unpredictability. Some days I feel like I have all the energy in the world, and other days I struggle to even pick up a brush. Abstract expressionism gives me permission to create no matter what state I’m in. It doesn’t require me to be consistent or follow a pattern—it allows me to show up, as I am, and let whatever needs to come out, come out.
Why I Love Abstract Expressionism
What I love most about abstract expressionism is that it’s all about feeling, not form. It’s about the raw, unfiltered emotion that can’t be neatly packaged or explained. There’s no right or wrong way to do it, no need to conform to anyone else’s standards. It’s art in its purest form—an expression of whatever is inside me at the moment.
Each piece I create is a reflection of a specific moment in time, a snapshot of how I was feeling when the brush hit the canvas. And since I only create one copy of each piece, that moment is preserved forever in a way that feels deeply personal. It’s not just about creating art—it’s about capturing an experience, an emotion, and sharing that with the world.
In the end, abstract expressionism allows me to be free. Free from rules, free from expectations, and free to create in a way that feels true to who I am. It’s about emotion, movement, and energy—everything that I love about art.