The fog of charting your own path

A year end reflection on moving away from commissioned illustration

The irony of being an artist with a day job as a logic-driven software engineer is that I hesitate to follow my intuition when the analysis doesn’t make sense.

Why not do a low paying commission if it can give me experience and exposure? Or join a group gallery show even if I don’t resonate with the theme? And of course I should think about making a picture book, since everyone tells me that my illustration style is perfect for it.

I am lucky to be connected with my intuition (hello, Pisces moon 🌚) so my stomach grumbles in objection as I say yes to opportunities that I fear won’t come again and convince myself to follow paths that I’m not fully interested in. Nothing goes terribly wrong in these situations, but it never feels quite right. I show up half-heartedly. The art doesn’t look like my own. I look around at other impassioned souls in the spaces I inhabit and think to myself, is this what I really want?

Route 89, somewhere between Page and Flagstaff

Earlier this week my husband and I went on a road trip through Arizona. I drove down Route 89 in thick fog and rain, feeling reassured when I saw red taillights that I could easily follow. When there was no car in front to mark the visual space, the fog was so deep that I was floating in the sky with just a patch of concrete road to ground me. I couldn’t see where I was going, and I was fully in control. It was terrifying and freeing and mystical all at once.

Following your intuition can feel just like that, especially if it involves breaking from traditional paths or quitting opportunities that others dream of getting.

Just a year ago I was focused on illustrating for clients as a career, strung along by momentum and stuffing down the feelings of unease that arose when I sat down to make work. After some life upheavals earlier this year, I let go of making art for any other reason than my own satisfaction and finally enjoyed the art I created, such as my first comic zine or sketchbook paintings drawn from life.

I also really enjoyed teaching workshops and most of all, writing and growing this newsletter for creatives. Though I’ve been on Substack for four years, this year has been the most consistent with a total of 35 posts along with 3x subscriber growth! The weekly routine of showing up keeps me creating and reflecting which is the greatest gift, and I relish chatting with you in the comments and hearing your advice on how to remain creative and true to yourself in an ever-distracting world.

All of you readers are stars, and it’s an honor to inhabit a bit of your brain space each week! Thank you especially to subscribers

Justus

JudgeRoyBean

RAJ KAUR

Beth Spencer

Debbie Ridpath Ohi

Anne Ehrlich

Jo

Christina Chung

Anne Belov

for sharing my words and for the kind words of your own 🌟

As 2023 comes to an end, I am still navigating my way through the fog as I hone in on what to focus on (writing, drawing, zines, workshops) and do less of what doesn’t resonate right now (editorial illustration, art products).

As a multihyphenate I have pined in the past for the clear cut path of a singular passion. And sure, it would be easy to follow others on the road to expertise. But I’ve gotten to learn so much and meet wonderful people through writing, coding, drawing, painting, crafting, dancing, teaching, facilitating, and all of the other verbs I occupy. The fog I inhabit is dense with the vibrancy and possibility of combinations, and when I finally emerge, there waits the most dazzling forest of my dreams.