We live in a world that is constantly telling us what to look at.
Look here. Look at this. This is what matters. This is what it means. This is what you should think.
Even our images increasingly arrive with instructions attached. A photograph comes with a caption. A news image comes with a headline. A social media post tells us what to feel before we've had a chance to decide for ourselves.
Perhaps that's one reason I'm drawn to abstraction. An abstract painting doesn't necessarily tell you what you're looking at. It asks you to look. And there's a difference.
When Art Gives You an Answer
Representational art can be incredibly powerful. A portrait shows us a face. A landscape places us somewhere. A still life gives us an arrangement of objects we immediately recognize. There's an entry point, we know what we're seeing.
Abstraction removes some of that certainty. There may be no mountain to identify, no person to recognize, no specific place to locate. Instead, there's color, shape, line, proportion, rhythm, tension, and space.
And suddenly, the responsibility shifts. The painting isn't doing all of the work for you. You have to participate.
That invitation is at the heart of my own geometric abstract paintings, which begin with nature and structure but leave room for the viewer's experience.
The Viewer Becomes Part of the Experience
When I look at an abstract painting, I don't necessarily want to know what the artist intended me to see. I want to know what I see.
That might sound like a small distinction, but it changes the entire experience of looking at geometric abstract art. Two people can stand in front of the same painting and have completely different responses:
- One person might see a landscape.
- Another might see architecture.
- Someone else might feel a particular memory emerge.
- Another viewer might simply be drawn to the way two colors meet.
None of those responses has to be wrong. There doesn't have to be one correct answer. That's one of the freedoms abstract art offers.
The Space Between Looking and Understanding
We're often encouraged to understand things quickly. Identify. Categorize. Move on. Abstract art can interrupt that habit.
You might look at a painting and not immediately know what it means, and instead of being a problem, that uncertainty becomes part of the experience. You stay with it a little longer. You notice something you didn't see at first. Your eye moves through the composition. A shape begins to feel different because of the color beside it. A space that initially seemed empty becomes important.
The painting changes, not because the painting itself has changed, but because you've changed the way you're looking at it. That kind of looking requires time. And time, increasingly, feels valuable.
Abstraction Doesn't Mean Anything Goes
Sometimes abstract art is dismissed with the question: "But what is it supposed to be?"
I understand the impulse. We're accustomed to art giving us something recognizable. But abstraction isn't the absence of structure. In my own geometric abstract paintings, geometry gives me a framework. I think carefully about proportion, balance, negative space, color relationships, repetition, and visual movement.
A painting may look simple, but simplicity often requires a great deal of decision-making. The goal isn't to create something without meaning. It's to create something that leaves room for meaning to happen.
What Happens When We Stop Looking for the Answer?
There's something liberating about realizing you don't have to solve a painting. You don't have to know exactly what it represents, understand the artist's biography, or arrive at the "right" interpretation. You can simply notice your own response:
- What do you see first?
- Where does your eye go?
- What draws you closer, or pushes you away?
- Does the composition feel balanced or unsettled?
- Does a particular color remind you of something?
- Does the painting change when you step back?
These aren't questions with right or wrong answers. They're invitations to pay attention.
Art as a Place to Pause
This matters increasingly to me. I think we need places where we aren't being told what to think, experiences that let us slow down long enough to form our own response. Art can be one of those places.
A painting can ask nothing from you except that you look. For a few minutes, there's no need to scroll, respond, purchase, compare, or decide. There's simply the experience of being present with something. Perhaps that's one of the quiet powers of art: it gives us permission to linger.
How Abstract Art Changes a Room
A painting doesn't just sit inside a room. It changes how the room is read. Color can make a space feel quieter or more alive. Geometry can introduce order, while negative space can create a sense of breathing room. The scale of a work can draw the eye across a wall or make a smaller corner feel intentional.
That influence isn't only visual. A painting can change the pace of a room. It can give the eye somewhere to rest, create a point of return, or make a familiar space feel newly considered. When the work leaves room for interpretation, the room becomes part of the experience too. The painting and the space around it begin to shape one another.
You can see this relationship between painting and space in works such as Harbor and Sail Away, where landscape, geometry, and color create different kinds of visual energy.
For more guidance on bringing abstract art into a home, read How to Choose Abstract Art for a Living Room.
Why I Make Abstract Paintings
My own work begins with nature, landscape, geometry, and structure, but I don't want to dictate what someone should ultimately see in a painting. I might begin with the memory of a coastline or the structure of a mountain range, and reduce that experience to planes, angles, lines, and color. But by the time the painting is finished, it has become something independent of that original inspiration. It belongs to the viewer too.
You may see the landscape I was thinking about. Or you may see something completely different. That's okay. In fact, that's the point.
My approach to landscape and abstraction is explored further in Artist Philosophy: Minimalist Landscape Art.
An abstract painting doesn't give you an answer. It gives you room to have an experience. And perhaps in a world that is increasingly full of answers, that room is something we need more of.
Grounded in nature. Defined by form.
Explore the geometric abstract paintings of Shilo Ratner, or read more about her artistic philosophy and process.
Featured Artwork: Rise 1, 48in x 48in, Abstract Painting is available by inquiry. contact Shilo at shiloratner@gmail.com.


