We were lucky to catch up with Manny A. recently and have shared our conversation below.

Manny A. , thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today How did you learn to do what you do? Knowing what you know now, what could you have done to speed up your learning process? What skills do you think were most essential? What obstacles stood in the way of learning more?

If I’m being honest, it’s been a whole lot of trial and error. A lot of bad paintings. A lot of second-guessing. A lot of starting over. But more than anything, it’s been tenacity — just not quitting. Showing up even when the work felt flat. Building layer on top of layer, not just on canvas, but in skill.

What really accelerated things for me were foundations. Learning drawing. Understanding value. Studying color theory. Composition. Once I took workshops, sought out mentorships, and surrounded myself with artist friends who were ahead of me, everything started stacking in a stronger way. You realize you don’t have to figure it all out alone.

Knowing what I know now, I would’ve focused earlier on mastering value and simplification. I would’ve asked for critique sooner. And I would’ve spent less time chasing style and more time strengthening fundamentals — style naturally grows out of that.

The biggest obstacles? Ego. Impatience. Comparing myself to others. And sometimes just life getting in the way. But every setback taught me something.

At the end of the day, the most essential skill hasn’t just been technical — it’s resilience. The willingness to keep painting, keep learning, and keep building on the foundation, one layer at a time.

Manny A. , love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

My name is Manuel Angel Maldonado — but my family and friends call me Manny. I was born in Maracaibo, Venezuela, and moved to Utah County as a baby, where I was raised. Today, I live in North Carolina with my wife and our two pups, painting daily inspiration from the landscapes around me.

I’ve always been creative. As a kid, instead of asking for toys at Christmas, I asked for art supplies. Sketchbooks, paints, markers — anything that let me make something with my hands. That instinct to create never left; it simply matured into a pursuit of painting.

I’m an impressionist painter specializing in landscapes, wildlife, and architecture. My work is rooted in interpreting what I see rather than copying it exactly. I’m drawn to the feeling of a place — the shifting light, the atmosphere, the subtle color relationships most people overlook. Through bold brush strokes and intricate line work, I aim to bring movement and life into each piece. Up close, you’ll see energy and mark-making; from a distance, it all comes together in harmony.

I primarily work in acrylic on canvas, creating original fine art for collectors who connect with a strong sense of place and story. Whether it’s a quiet harbor, a snow-dusted coastal building, or wildlife caught in a fleeting moment, I strive to capture more than a scene — I capture an experience.

What sets me apart is both foundation and freedom. My growth has come through trial and error, workshops, mentorships, and building relationships with fellow artists. I care deeply about drawing, value, composition, and color theory — but I also believe in trusting instinct. I love painting what I want and how I want. That authenticity is important to me. I don’t chase trends; I chase truth in the work.

What I’m most proud of is the resilience behind the art — the commitment to keep refining my craft and staying true to my voice. I want collectors and followers to know that every painting represents dedication, passion, and a genuine love for the creative process. When someone brings my work into their home, they’re not just collecting a painting — they’re collecting a piece of my journey.

What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?

At the core of my creative journey is the drive to have my artwork seen, felt, and remembered. Of course, I paint because I love it. There’s something meaningful about knowing a piece I created will live in someone’s home, become part of their daily life, and hold a story for them.

A huge force behind my work is the outdoors. Camping, hiking, being immersed in nature — that’s life to me. That’s where my creativity resets and recharges. I’m constantly observing light, atmosphere, shifting color, wildlife movement, architectural details tucked into a landscape. My goal is to capture and interpret the rawness of those moments, especially when I’m painting en plein air — on location, in real time, responding to what’s in front of me.

I also build ideas through studies — both digitally and physically. I’ll paint multiple small explorations, testing composition, value, and color relationships. If something clicks, if I see what I like and feel that spark, it often evolves into a larger studio painting. Those studies are the groundwork; the bigger pieces are the expansion of that initial energy.

The drive to create is what truly keeps me going. There have been nights when I’ve struggled to sleep because an idea wouldn’t leave me alone. I’ll get up, sketch, paint, map out a concept for the next body of work. It’s not always convenient — but it’s honest. That internal pull to make something, to explore a new idea, to push a little further — that’s the mission.

Ultimately, I want my work to reflect the vitality of the outdoors and the authenticity of my process. To be seen. To grow. To keep chasing that next spark.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

I think one thing non-creatives might struggle to understand about this journey is that, for me, it’s really about freedom.

Freedom to choose what I paint. Freedom to explore an idea that might not “make sense” to anyone else yet. Freedom to create when inspiration hits — and also the freedom to step away when I need to reset. Some days that looks like painting for hours. Other days it’s hiking, sketching, or just thinking. It’s not always linear or predictable, and that’s the beauty of it.

From the outside, people sometimes measure success in numbers — income, followers, sales. And sure, I may not be making millions of dollars… yet. (Emphasis on yet 😅). But what I do have is the ability to wake up and build something that’s mine. That’s a different kind of wealth.

Another thing that doesn’t get talked about enough is how emotional the creative path can be. Comparison is real. There are seasons where I question myself, where I look at other artists and think, “Am I good enough?” Comparison truly is the thief of joy. It can sneak in quietly and try to derail everything.

Which is why, in my opinion, one of the most important parts of this journey is having someone who believes in you. My wife, Amelia, has been my biggest supporter since the beginning of my career. She keeps me grounded when I get ahead of myself and lifts me up when I get stuck in self-doubt. Without her steady support, I honestly don’t know where I’d be.

At the end of the day, being a creative isn’t just about making art. It’s about choosing this path over and over again — with freedom, faith, a little humor, and the right people in your corner.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://mannyamaldonado.com/
• Instagram: @artbym.a.m
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/artbymam-3870a1349?utm_source=share_via&utm_content=profile&utm_medium=member_ios
• Youtube: https://youtube.com/@artbym.a.m?si=JG5iiOc1QUnxOe1z