If You Could Move the Sun, Would You?

You're almost finished with your shopfront. The flowers have been painted, the awning stripes coloured, all the little details are in place, and now it's time for the final step. The shadows.

But before you pick up your brush, let me ask you something.

If you could move the sun, would you?

Most people immediately think, "You can't." That's exactly what I thought too.

When I first started drawing shopfronts, I believed the light in my reference photo was fixed. If the sun was shining from the right, then every shadow had to fall to the left. End of story.

It never occurred to me that the reference photo wasn't in charge. I was.

Now, whenever I reach the shadow stage, I don't ask myself where the sun was in the photo. I ask myself something completely different.

The question I ask before every shadow

Instead of looking for the light source, I look around my drawing and ask myself:

Which shadows would make this shopfront even more beautiful?

Maybe a chalkboard could cast a lovely shadow across an empty wall. Maybe long evening shadows stretching across the pavement would make the whole scene feel calmer and cozier. Or maybe an awning could frame the entrance with a beautiful shade.

I don't begin with the sun. I begin with the shadows I wish existed.

Only then do I choose a direction for the light that makes those shadows possible.

The sun works for the drawing

Imagine you've placed a chalkboard beside the entrance.

If the sun shines from the right, its shadow disappears off the page. That beautiful shadow never becomes part of the drawing. But if you decide the light comes from the left instead, that same chalkboard suddenly creates a beautiful shadow across the wall.

The chalkboard didn't move. The wall didn't move.

The only thing that changed was the sun.

That's when I realised something that completely changed the way I paint.

Don't accept the light you're given. Design the light your drawing needs.

You're not changing reality, you're making artistic decisions that help the viewer feel what you want them to feel. You're designing atmosphere.

I stopped asking,

"Where is the sun?"

and started asking,

"Where would the most beautiful shadows be?"

There's one rule you can't break

Here's the wonderful part. Yes, you can move the sun anywhere you like.

But only once.

After you've chosen your light source, every shadow has to agree with that decision.

The awning. The flower pots. The hanging sign. The café chairs. The bicycle.

Every cast shadow needs to point in the same direction because they're all created by the same sun.

They also need to follow the surfaces they fall on. A shadow doesn't stay flat when it reaches a wall - it climbs the wall, it wraps around steps, and it changes shape as the surface changes. 

If one shadow disagrees with the others, the illusion quietly begins to fall apart.

That's what makes a drawing feel believable. Not because every shadow matches your reference photo, but because every shadow belongs to the same sun.

The other mistake that held me back

Understanding where my shadows should go solved one problem. Actually painting them solved the other.

For years, I'd mix a beautiful dark shadow colour (like Paynes Gray) and then dilute it just before it touched the paper. I was afraid I'd ruin the painting.

The result was soft, pale shadows that quietly disappeared into everything else. Nothing guided your eye through the drawing. Everything competed equally for attention.

It wasn't until I started painting darker, more confident cast shadows that my shopfronts suddenly gained depth. The windows felt brighter, the colours became more vibrant, the buildings felt more three-dimensional.

Ironically, adding darker shadows made the whole painting feel lighter.

Confidence comes from understanding

People often tell me "I wish I had the confidence to paint shadows like yours."

For a long time, I thought confidence came first too. Now I think it's the other way around.

The more I understood how shadows worked, the more confident I became.

Once I understood why cast shadows follow the surfaces beneath them, why every shadow needs to belong to the same light source, and how choosing the light direction strengthens a composition, painting shadows stopped feeling like a gamble.

They became one of the most enjoyable parts of the painting process.

If you'd like to understand the theory behind choosing a light source, creating believable cast shadows and making confident shadow decisions, I've put everything I know into my Shadows Guide.

The next time you're about to paint the shadows, don't ask,

"Where is the sun?"

Ask,

"Where would the most beautiful shadows be?"

Then choose your light. Because you only get to move the sun once.