Convention Round-Up: Next Steps

The past few weeks have been dizzying. I went to four conventions in the past five weeks, exhibiting in one, and participated in one art show. I definitely have a lot more respect for the convention regulars who somehow manage to get to every single show out there, regardless of when or where it is. Nonetheless, I've learned a lot of very valuable things during the past month and hopefully they will help propel me forward.

- Probably the biggest take-away for me has been that my work is in the strange (some would call it unique) position of being between three genres (I've already elaborated on this in a previous blog post), and that maybe I need to go ahead and do something of my own creation.

The issues I have always had with attempting to do something along those lines usually involve me being too scatter-brained to get everything down on paper the way I want it to look. In the past I have been too scared to "fail", but I think it was more a lack of support more than anything. I get particularly intimidated when I look at the work of others and try to hold myself to that standard. Maybe it's just a matter of me finding the right person to be my creative guinea pig sounding board.

"Who is this guy? What does he do?"

I have to start asking questions and answering them. The ones such as, "Who is he? What does he do for a living? Where does he live? How does he live?" What I took away from Intervention-Con in particular was that I need to push further; I have to ask more questions and provide more details. And then I have to build a world for these characters to exist in. I might be getting in a bit over my head here but I suppose I have to start somewhere.

Another blog post with more rambling and hardly any art that hasn't been seen before? I'm awful at this. I promise, the next posts will have more art. And if it doesn't, I give you all permission to hunt me down and pelt me with gummy bears.

Undefined

Please forgive me for the infrequency of these updates. The past two weeks have been very hectic. I'll post updates about those later, but in the meantime I want to share something that has been gnawing at me for the past four years or so, ever since I started on this journey of becoming an illustrator.

I have a great deal of difficulty defining myself as an artist. When someone asks me "what kind of artist are you", my first inclination is usually to answer "not a very good one" and laugh it off as a pitiful attempt to dismiss the question. Or I might try to explain the details of what my pictures are known for instead of actually giving a definition.

"Hi, I'm Darrenn. I draw and paint big guys with tusks."

To be honest, I don't have a definition for what I do. Yes, it has certain traits and tendencies, and some recurring subjects, but it doesn't have a nice little box to place itself in where other people can look at it and identify it at a glance. It may seem like a cop-out to say "it is what it is", but that's really what it is; it's nothing else.

I also believe others have difficulty defining what I do as an artist. For some, it is a good thing. Some people seem to appreciate the fact that what I do is not a "trend" or a "fad". Some people like how my work looks like the work of nobody else (although the name Maurice Sendak gets thrown out fairly often).

I think it has to do with the color palette.

Then there are some people who simply do not like that my work doesn't have a neat and tidy definition. Some art directors and editors have become visibly uncomfortable when looking at my body of work, unable to categorize it.  I've had one instructor in particular tell me that my work either needed to become more stylized or more realistic. It wasn't a matter getting better or addressing weaknesses; the implication was that the flaw in my work was my work.

I struggled mightily with the latter statement for nearly a year, despite the progress I had made during that time. I knew my art was getting better and stronger, but it was still undefined. It had developed its own sort of consistency and its own attributes which I could identify, but which were mainly unconscious and intuitive during the creation process (I think that's what people like to refer to as a "style", though I don't like to use that word).

In the year and chance that I've been out of school, I have learned to live with it. It doesn't really bother me anymore. The feedback I have received from other illustrators, even ones whose work I have grown up loving and admiring, has been mainly positive. I recognize that my work's lack of a true definition might make it difficult for me to find commercial jobs - and it truly has been a struggle. But I believe it's more important for me to do what I do, even if it means the path will be longer and more arduous.

I promise my next post will have more art and less rambling.