She began with a grayscale image of a single, violent brushstroke, painted with a rough, chalky brush on a transparent layer. She saved it as a PSD. Then, she went to 3D > New Mesh from Grayscale > Plane .
Her flat stroke lifted off the screen . The white parts of the stroke became towering peaks; the black parts, deep valleys; the grays, smooth slopes. Photoshop had built a 3D model of her stroke—a digital mountain range of paint.
Frustrated, she opened a seldom-used corner of Photoshop: the . Most digital painters ignored it. But Elara remembered an old forum post about “simulating impasto.” photoshop impasto
But it was just a gray, metallic-looking object. To make it impasto , she needed to wrap her color around the texture.
Elara smiled. She had learned the secret: Photoshop's impasto isn't a single button. It's a marriage of . It’s a lie that tells a deeper truth. She began with a grayscale image of a
She rendered the 3D layer. It took a minute. When it finished, Elara gasped.
She created a second layer, a vibrant red poppy petal. She placed the 3D mesh above it. Then, in the 3D panel, she changed the mesh’s material. She set the color to the red petal layer. She turned the Shine and Reflection way down, but cranked the Bump map to 100%—using her original grayscale stroke as the bump. Her flat stroke lifted off the screen
The stroke had volume. It caught an imaginary light from the upper left. The peak of the stroke was a bright, clean red, while the deep crevices were a rich, shadowed crimson. It looked like wet, thick oil paint.