Why Good Brushes Matter
This article contains affiliate links. If you buy through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you.
It's easy to spend money on paint and save on brushes. I understand the temptation — a brush looks simple, and a cheap one seems to do the same job.
But a brush is the point where your intention meets the surface. Every stroke passes through it. And over the years I've learned that a poor brush quietly works against you, while a good one almost disappears in your hand.
What a good brush gives you
Control. A well-made brush holds its shape. When I press it into heavy paint, it springs back instead of splaying out. When I want a sharp edge, it gives me one. With a cheap brush I found myself fighting the tool instead of thinking about the painting.
Paint-holding. Quality bristles hold more color and release it evenly, so a single stroke can travel further and stay alive from beginning to end. That continuity is essential in abstract work, where one gesture can carry a whole composition.
Texture you choose. I work with thick acrylic, and I want the marks of the brush to be part of the surface — but only the marks I intend. A good brush leaves deliberate texture, not stray hairs and accidents.
It lasts. A quality brush, cared for properly, stays with you for years. In the end it costs less than replacing cheap brushes again and again.
The brushes I use
For most of my work I use Daler-Rowney's Georgian brushes. They're sturdy hog-bristle brushes, handmade with a traditional interlocked construction, so they keep their shape and spring even through heavy, textured paint. They're not the most expensive brushes in the world, and that's part of why I love them: excellent quality that I'm not afraid to really use.
Taking care of them
A good brush is only as good as the way you treat it. I clean mine thoroughly at the end of every session with Talens brush soap, working it into the bristles until the water runs clear, then reshape the tip and let the brush dry lying flat or hanging bristles-down — never standing in a jar of water.
It's a small ritual at the end of the day, and it means my brushes are ready for me the next morning.
You'll find the brushes and the soap I use on my Studio Materials page.