Anyone who spends a little time online will come across those wildly hypnotic videos of paint dancing across canvas. Swirling colors stretch, bubble, and separate themselves into intricate shapes—some look like underwater creatures, others resemble cosmic clouds. Most folks call these patterns “cells.” Achieving this look isn’t some exclusive club trick; with a few tips and genuine curiosity, almost anyone can try it.
I started with acrylics straight from the tube and cheap canvases from the local art supply shop. At first, the mixes stayed thick and sluggish. The secret to making them move and form cells turns out to be the addition of pouring mediums, silicone oil, and just enough patience to let things move at their own pace. The pigment dances differently with resin—here, you deal with two parts: the resin and its hardener. Blend slowly. Fast mixing rushes in too many bubbles, which can muddy the end result.
Create cells by forcing the paint to separate and float across the other colors. Silicon oil does this by refusing to mix with water. Flick a few drops into your paint cup before pouring, and the oil rises to the surface, shoving through the colors and leaving clear edges. Tilt the canvas slowly and watch as the magic unfolds. The technique simulates real scientific principles: liquids of different densities jockey for space and, as a result, unique boundaries emerge. Some people use a torch or heat gun to encourage the cells to grow—heat helps the oil climb quickly and amplifies those eye-catching bubbles.
Working with resin comes with a health warning. It smells strong and sticks to skin, sometimes causing reactions. That means gloves are non-negotiable. Good airflow is even more critical. The same goes for cleaning up: tape the edges of your canvas and cover your work surface with plastic or wax paper. The sticky drips won’t come out of carpet or clothing, so some old clothes become art gear in my house. Talking with other artists, these simple habits save a lot of headaches and protect long-term creativity.
Once the basics click, you start to play. Swapping out types of paint, adding metallics, stirring the silicone directly in or layering it between colors—each choice leaves a mark on the final piece. Sometimes, paints don’t react, or the colors muddy together instead of popping apart. I’ve found that lighter paints and strong contrasting colors help more cells show up. Taking time to experiment, using small test tiles before committing to a big canvas, keeps the frustration to a minimum.
It takes some trial and error, plus a willingness to fail in order to capture the glowing, cosmic look that cell painting brings. Resin and acrylic together create a surface that looks deep and alive under the gloss. With a bit of know-how and enough caution, the process offers art that feels personal and unforgettable—and, just as important, completely unique from person to person.
