Appropriate topics for me these days. While I think managed to find a good way to motivate myself to work even when I’d be tempted to do nothing at all, I certainly have to learn how to deal with failure, because I’m pretty good at collecting it.
You know, the feeling of let down when you thought things were headed towards the right direction. Even worse, when you did your very best and you find out it wasn’t enough.
I sincerely have to admit that I don’t think that all sorts of failures help us improve. Perhaps some do, most maybe, but not all.
Failure is bitter and it’s up to us to understand why it happened and decide how to deal with it.
But hey, I don’t want to turn this post into a personal delusional rant (so tempting though! I like venting a bit), I just want to share a couple of things about this topic.
First, a little interesting article that might encourage you (or frustrate you even more): Why success always starts with failure.
The second link I want to share is mostly about motivation. It’s a 30 minutes podcast by Bobby Chiu. He talks about his past days, life as an artist and how he motivated himself to push forward. You also get to see how he starts a painting, which is always interesting.
I want to share an article I’ve just read. It struck me, because I agree with everything in it.
Here it is, it’s called “How to steal like an artist“, by Austin Kleon.
The whole article is about the process of making artwork consistently, as a vocation or profession.
Stealing in this context doesn’t mean copying nor robbing. Stealing means “to make it your own”, figuratively speaking. Be sensitive and open, observe and once something resonates in you, “steal it”, filter it through your own experience and ideas and make art out of it.
If you copy you miss the chance of finding yourself through the creative process.
Anyway, this is just one of the many interesting points in this article. I hope you’ll find it enlightening.
I’ve recently got in contact with my art school classmates. We hadn’t talked since 1995! Time flies and some things change, but not all.
It’s sort of enlightening to talk to people I haven’t seen in over a decade, especially people we shared similar dreams with.
For all these years some of them pursued the passion for art and illustration despite the numerous difficulties (I left Italy just to have the chance of working full-time as an illustrator); some decided to take a new direction and focus on family or other activities.
I’m a bit saddened to see that some of these talented artists had to struggle so much. Things aren’t easy in our profession, but I can assure you that in Italy they are worse. They deserve a lot better, especially with the great artistic tradition they have.
I hope we’ll at least collaborate on some competitions for fun, posting in art communities and such. It’s something that has proven to be very motivational for me, because I’m rather anti-social and I tend to isolate myself pretty easily.
At least the internet has become my window to the world.
Talking to them again sort of encouraged me to look at where I am now to judge myself objectively.
While I still have dreams to pursue and things to accomplish I can say I’m pretty happy on a personal level when it comes to my approach with illustration. I found a way to work the way I like, walking a strange line between the path of the traditional artist (craftsmanship and formal research) with that of the illustrator (narrative and pop culture). I like this strange route, for now it’s my own and I’m curious to see where it will lead me.
It’s something I had no idea of 10 years ago. Even just 5! It’s a little light in the darkness, a hint of a direction at least. It makes the journey even more thrilling.
Anyway, I want to post a few links, to introduce some of my ex-classmates.
Cinzia Di Felice‘s main expertise are comics. She published a few comic books (samples are in her website), she’s been the assistant of the popular comic artist Massimiliano Frezzato (who’s been our teacher as well) and now teaches in the same art school we all attended. She’s funny too.
Andrea Gatti is a freelancer who does a bit of everything (traditional and digital). He drew an amusing series of historical caricatures, but what struck me the most is the collection Sunk World that I linked here. Check it, it’s really cool.
Sauro Quaglia has a very confident comic and animation style he used to impress us with during our school days. He was already good back then. He now works for Leo Burnett in Italy, but check his blog, there’s plenty of stuff he enjoys doing in his spare time.
Simona Traina currently enjoys painting. Her style is a very lovely mixture of children-book and cubism. I really like her work, she can’t believe it, she’s too modest.
Elena Pianta works as a comic artist at the major italian comic publisher, Bonelli Editore.
Her site is work in progress so I’ll just link something I googled.
There might be more, so as soon as I get more links from the rest of the ex-class I’ll post them here.
This is cool. Three of my works will be featured in the DVD of Imagine FX 72, on sale on the 26th of June, together with comments per image, a little bio and…a photo!
The photo was a must, couldn’t say no to that. I hate photos of myself.
I always wanted to get into Imagine FX somehow, so I replied their email so fast that they told me it’s probably a record.
I’m also a quick-reply record holder now!
Apparently they aren’t a great idea and the article explains why.
I like how in the second part the author differentiates between goal and intention.
I find it’s particularly true for me (and perhaps everyone) working in the arts field.
We start an illustration with an intention, not with a goal in mind. We are probably unaware of it, but only by serving our intention we can succeed or fail partially or totally while still being willing to work on a new piece.
A goal is an ideal carved in a stone of an imaginary world. Intentions, on the other hand, demand to focus in the present and in our own work and skill.
Goals are fixed and at the same time volatile (because imaginary). Intentions give way to a practical process that often nurtures itself healthily.
The need of producing art, in fact, never truly ends because the artist knows there’s no goal other than the process itself.
