Capturing The Unseen

Leonardo da Vinci said: "The artist sees what others only catch a glimpse of."

I don't think this is about vision in any mystical sense. I think it's about practice.

I'm Kirsten Katz — an Australian artist and surface designer based in Sydney. I make modern botanical and abstract wall art, homewares and gifts. And the work that has meant the most to me — the pieces that feel genuinely alive — has always come from looking more carefully, more slowly, and more repeatedly at the world than felt comfortable or necessary.

Seeing is a Skill

Most people move through the world noticing a fraction of what's actually there. Not because they're not intelligent or curious — just because attention is selective and the brain filters out what it doesn't think is relevant.

Artists train their attention differently. Not by being born with better eyes, but by looking more deliberately, more slowly, and more repeatedly at things.

I've drawn the same banksia dozens of times. Each time I look more closely. I see the way the individual florets are arranged along the spike. The specific shade of yellow at the tip versus the deeper ochre at the base. The texture of the outer casing. The way light catches the surface differently depending on the angle.

The first time I looked, I saw a banksia. After many drawings, I understand it. That understanding is what allows me to paint it in a way that feels alive rather than merely accurate.

This sustained looking is at the heart of everything in my botanical wall art — especially the Flowers of Oz collection and the Protea Magnifica collection, where the goal has never been illustration but something closer to feeling.

Kimberly Wildflowers — born from sustained looking at Australian native flora. Shop now →

What Gets Captured

Da Vinci's point is that the artist goes beyond the glimpse — past the first impression, past the surface reading, into something more sustained and specific.

That's where the real work of observation happens. Not in the quick look, but in the sustained one. In the willingness to keep looking after the obvious things have been noted.

What's the light doing right now? How does this shape relate to the one next to it? What makes this particular flower different from every other flower of the same species? What's the feeling of this, not just the fact of it?

These questions can't be answered quickly. They require time and attention. And they produce work that carries a depth that's recognisable even when you can't quite articulate why.

This is also connected to what I mean by painting from the soul — the work that comes from genuine looking carries something the work that comes from reference alone never quite does. You can feel the difference. So can the viewer.

The Connection Between Looking and Imagining

Sustained observation isn't separate from imagination — it feeds it. The more closely you look at something real, the more material your imagination has to work with.

My botanical work is a good example. The deeper my understanding of how an actual protea is constructed — the geometry of its structure, the logic of how it opens — the more freely I can paint it. The imagination can take it somewhere else because the foundation is solid.

This is something I've written about in the post on the power of imagination — how imagination works best when it has real, carefully observed material to draw on. Knowledge and imagination aren't opposites. They work together.

Practise Looking Before You Make

If you're developing a creative practice, I'd encourage you to spend more time looking than you think you need to. Before you start drawing or painting or making — really look at what's in front of you.

Slow down. Let the obvious give way to the subtle. Notice what you'd miss if you moved on too quickly.

That unhurried attention is what the finished work will carry. Viewers feel it, even when they're not sure what they're responding to.

The artist sees what others only catch a glimpse of. Not because they're special. Because they've practised staying a little longer than everyone else.

Warmly, Kirsten x