November brought some exciting news that I will have the opportunity to tell and illustrate stories I have been developing for quite some time. I am filled with eagerness but also held back by anxiety. The grand "what if" comes with many follow-up questions that make me wonder if I’m ready. Nevertheless, I believe it takes a village to create art, whether through influence or contribution, and I trust all the people who have put their faith in me. I am grateful to those who support and believe in my ideas in a world filled with countless other good ideas that have yet to be recognized.
I've always grappled with a mix of inferiority and superiority complexes. I define superiority as any illusion that I’m good enough to illustrate for a living, while inferiority arises from comparing myself to other artists whom I believe are more deserving. This realization has been particularly striking as I’ve progressed in my career. I had significantly more confidence in my teens and twenties, but as I approached thirty, I found myself feeling more timid about my skills.
Being my own cheerleader has always been challenging for me. Despite advising other artists not to overly seek validation, I often rely on feedback from others to feel that my art is good enough. There's an undeniable relationship between the artist and the audience, and I’ve been struggling to create art that isn’t solely for audience approval. Through my experiences I’ve determined it’s impossible to please everyone, and when you try, the work can become inauthentic. Audiences can definitely sense when something lacks sincerity.
We are all searching for a blank space in the world where we fit in. When our time comes to step into that space, we hope to reshape the world in return.
Many artists far smarter than I have taught that the journey is more important than the destination. Therefore, if I approach this as a labor of love, creating joyous memories and reflecting the best parts of myself, the final product will invite those kindred to my stories—the audiences I want to connect with and who want to connect with me. That is, at least, my hope. Just as we seek validation from our audience, they too look to artists for the same.
Stay tuned for some good news, and I can’t wait to share my stories!
Favorite artwork: Ace of Cups (the start of a casual project for a jester inspired tarot deck)
SONG OF THE MONTH: TORNADOLAND (REGINA SPEKTOR)
EMOGI OF THE MONTH: 🪼 (CAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE A BRAIN OR A HEART, JUST LIKE ME, LOL IT'S A JOKE I'M OKAY)
Howdy to the first monthly blog posts where I’ll be sharing my work as an illustrator (posting this one a little ahead of October but I am impatient)! A place for me to express excitement over book birthdays, project announcements, and what’s been on my mind as I grow. I’ve always been passionate about the work I do, but I often struggle to express just how much it means to me and what I’ve accomplished. I still feel like I’m just getting started, and I want to document it, celebrate it, and reflect on how far I’ve come.
2024 has forced me into a lot of interesting and unexpected growth. Work was slow for a good chunk of the year, and I had to pivot—exploring new avenues and reopening doors I thought I had closed. Thankfully, after a lot work, things have recently settled back into a groove, and I’m finally maintaining a more “normal” workload and schedule.
During the quieter times, I leaned on my agency for advice on how to polish up my portfolio. First we came up with is middle grade book covers. This used to be my bread and butter in regular work, but it had been a while since I flexed those muscles. I dove into creating mock covers that looked like they could sit on the shelf at any bookstore. I enlisted friends and family to come up with fun titles to inspire the cover art, which I think added a lot of flavor to the art. I also explored slight variations in style while keeping a consistent, recognizable touch throughout.
Next was adding more sequential art to showcase my storytelling skills. Back in college, I had a focus in solo oral storytelling, which is the backbone that gave me the confidence to approach narrative work. I decided to take on a personal project and turn my favorite series, A Series of Unfortunate Events, into a graphic novel. I adapted a few pages from each book and stayed true to the original dialogue so it feels like you’re still reading the classic material. (And, just for fun, worked on some sequential art from my favorite movies.)
Lastly, after a few more conversations with my agents at Bright, we realized I needed more landscape illustrations in my portfolio. I wanted to create worlds that tell their own stories, even without characters. Landscape art isn’t my strongest suit, but I took this as a chance to really dive in. I studied the background art from some of my favorite animated movies, and Eyvind Earle’s work on Sleeping Beauty really stood out. I love how his foregrounds are highly detailed, but as you look deeper into the background, the shapes and colors simplify. I’m still tinkering with this skill but I see a lot of potential for evolving.
Looking back, I’m incredibly grateful for the job I’ve had over the past six years. So far this year, in particular, was challenging, and there were moments when I wasn’t sure how to change my situation. But I’m lucky to have an amazing support system—especially my wonderful wife, who has always believed in my future as an illustrator. When you can’t find work as a freelancer, it can be vexing. Having people who support you, even just moral support, makes all the difference. You have to keep creating, even when it feels like no one will look at what you make. There is always space in every room, always room at the top.
As I gear up for spooky season and celebrate my (Halloween) wedding anniversary, I’m filled with appreciation for my agency, my friends, my family, and everyone who has believed in my vision.
SONG OF THE MONTH: Bones (Sail North) 🏴☠️ (modern shanty music is peak)
EMOGI OF THE MONTH: 🪻 (cause it’s cute)