As much of an accomplishment as it seems to get one’s doodle retweeted by @sketch_dailies or someone that many might call a “celebrity,” it’s not something one can put in a resume. With that said, here’s a silly little happy moment: my tank girl got retweeted by @sketch_dailies.
There was a period of time when I never drew myself. I didn’t allow others to draw me, and I took very few pictures of myself too. Some might assume this had to do with some sort of confidence or body image issue. How cliche do you think I am?
The theme of a current project of mine (My first live action film! Eek!) is disconnect and indirectness. Ok, that IS pretty cliche for an artist. Anyway, I’ve made it so because of the nature of art itself. Bear with me now: art is often an analogy of some kind. If one were to be literal with one’s art, one wouldn’t call it art. One would call it whatever the hell it is—a table, a house, a hammer. Now, this statement breaks down slightly when we begin to define art apart from its contemplative qualities. I do happen to believe that art does include design, in many cases. This is why I mentioned that “art is OFTEN an analogy”.
Aaaaaanyway, because art— at least my art— is often an analogy, actually depicting myself has long since been a strange way to communicate anything of value. But lately, I’ve come to a new realization: who in tarnation cares?
I used to draw cats, monsters, dolls, and other things to represent me in scenes. And now I use me to represent other things in scenes that I draw. So, here are some of those!
It’s a tricky game, being a part of society. On one hand, something inside one yearns for community and a sense of membership. There’s an undeniable need to be a part of something greater than myself. On the other hand, a herd of humans can easily infect one with some dangerous afflictions. And unfortunately, I’m terrible at games.
The surreptitious influence of my little pod of primates has had many results, including me thinking that my work is good only if it’s like by a large amount of people. Thankfully, before this notion affected what I made, I caught onto the infiltration and resolved to create from my point of view, instead of that of the masses.
If one person can be touched or inspired by what I make, I’d have satisfied my role in the game.
I am officially searching for my fellow unicorns.
Unlike many artists that I know, I grew up longing to fit in. Standing out and seeming to be unique always isolated me. Am I alone here? In a culture where individuality is not only encouraged, but prized, I’ve also been unique in having these feelings as well.
Being an even split between an INTJ and an INFJ, and also between a harmony-seeking idealist and an independent thinker apparently makes me a mentally deformed mutant. It’s possibly also why I have so many interests and jobs.
Sometimes these different worlds collide. Perhaps not too many people who enjoy my illustrations know that I also do things in fashion. Mostly hair/ makeup & styling. When I’m working on a set, or thinking of an outfit, or styling someone, I tend to sketch out the ideas and I’m endlessly grateful that I don’t have to hire an illustrator for projects.
I’m still looking for other unicorns.