Inside Look: Creating Digital Art

I have a confession to make.

So, I've always had a habit of shying away from seeking help, especially when it comes to my hobbies. Being a self-proclaimed perfectionist, I've often felt that I'm better off tackling the basics on my own rather than relying on others. While I can't pinpoint exactly when this mindset took hold, it has guided my approach to life and shaped how I pursue my interests over the years.

I've never been one to readily accept instruction, viewing ignorance itself as a personal shortcoming. Yet, I've also held the belief that seeking guidance for something I already have a basic grasp of seems redundant and, frankly, a waste of everyone's time. Why burden someone else with teaching me when I could easily pick up the skills in my own spare moments?

When I was in my freshman year of high school, I enrolled into an art class. It was either that or a mandatory language. Of course I chose art over French!

For years, my passion for art burned brightly, yet I failed to fully embrace it. I would occasionally doodle on scraps of paper, sketching out characters from the depths of my imagination—activities that any art enthusiast might indulge in. There was a time in my younger years when I received some formal training in art. I vividly remember the lessons, like learning how to paint a pear with acrylics and playing with light and shadow to give it depth. However, beyond those brief experiences, my journey with art has largely been self-directed and self-taught.

My experience with my very first formal art class was incredibly challenging. The teacher had a rather unconventional approach to improving our skills—one that involved a fair bit of criticism. And well, criticism is fine; as an English major and writer, we've been taught to tighten our skins specifically towards feedback; but, criticism in a form of degradation? Not acceptable. She didn't hold back in bluntly suggesting that my work wasn't up to par and that pursuing art professionally might not be a viable path for me. Among my peers, I found myself feeling the least confident in my abilities, largely due to the way my teacher perceived my work. It was a year of feeling inadequate and unsure of my place in that class.

The moment I finally allowed myself to broaden my knowledge of art, I was met with belittlement at every turn. Whether it was experimenting with watercolors or simply sketching a self-portrait with a pencil, nothing seemed to satisfy my art teacher. It felt like no matter how much effort I put in, I was never enough in her eyes.

And, honestly, that sucked. I was the type of student who thrived on positive feedback and encouragement—any indication or form of praise that would inspire me to strive for even greater heights. Instead, I found myself constantly subjected to humiliation and shame.

I had nearly given up on art altogether. Without passion in an environment where I couldn't flourish, I saw no reason to continue. This is why I preferred being self-taught. Yet, here I was, in an art class, constantly seeking validation from others rather than finding fulfillment within myself for the small victories.

But, thankfully, with the help of some mental resilience techniques and unwavering support from my parents, I decided to approach things differently. I chose to see my teacher's words as a challenge—a challenge I was determined to overcome. Perhaps her unorthodox teaching methods were her way of pushing me to unlock hidden talents and strive for excellence, regardless of how painful her critiques may have been to hear.

I made a conscious decision to take the initiative to improve, to strive to be better than my teacher could ever imagine. It wasn't just about proving her wrong; it was about proving to myself that I was capable of achieving greatness-- a type of success that even she couldn't imagine me celebrating.

This is where digital art became a priority in my life. Armed with my mom's Wacom tablet, which was no larger than a tiny journal, I delved into the world of Photoshop, teaching myself the basics day in and day out. Every hour, every minute, I dedicated to painting something, despite the inevitable frustrations. I stumbled through the program, grappling with concepts like layers, but I refused to give up. Instead of turning to YouTube tutorials for guidance, I chose to immerse myself in exploring the tools and possibilities of Photoshop firsthand.

For years, I persevered in this journey until I felt confident enough in my skills to share my work on Instagram. My first post was in August of 2018, featuring character designs, doodles, and attempts at painting references. While I had come a long way since my high school days, I still hadn't developed a distinctive art style or anything that set me apart from other artists on the platform.

My high school experience had exposed me to semi-realism on traditional canvases using watercolor, charcoal, and gouache—but digital art was uncharted territory for me. Somewhere along the way, I made the decision to tackle the challenge of painting realism, and that's when everything clicked. I realized that my true passion as an artist lay in capturing realistic portraits of people.

And, that's how it all started out. Generally.

As my attempts at painting realism gained traction on Instagram, I found myself increasingly challenged. It was also during this period that I began to receive requests for commissions. Before I knew it, I had created a template for my commission prices and was in the process of editing a video detailing my portrait painting process, from start to finish.

Having established myself on various platforms and experiencing a steady rise in commission work, I felt as though I had finally realized my dream of fully embracing my passion as an artist. But well, this period of stability would prove to be short-lived and would last only a mere two years.

After I graduated high school, I spent less and less time painting. In fact, I doubt that I even had thoughts about art during this time. Eventually, the passion I had for art as a whole diminished slowly--to the point where attempting to sit down and paint or record a portrait for hours seemed so...long. Draining. Exhausting. Boring, even.

I suppose you could say I experienced a kind of "writer's block" I hadn't known existed. This feeling only intensified when I moved to Canada to pursue Creative Writing. There, I found myself prioritizing another hobby—one that seemed more viable as a profession than digital art. Deep down, I always knew that pursuing a career as an artist wasn't my true dream. While I loved art, it remained just a hobby for me. As I focused more on my goals as a writer and editor, my passion for art seemed to shrink in comparison.

But! I was determined not to let my artistic pursuits fade away entirely. I sought out ways to reignite that passion within my life as a writer. When I finished writing "Kiera, The Beast in Black," I needed a book cover to accompany it. While the idea of hiring an artist online crossed my mind, I knew that no one else could capture my vision for the cover quite like I could. So, I reasoned with myself: "I draw. Why can't I just do it?"

Strictly following a deadline for the publication of my book, I rushed to make a portrait; and, finally, for once, I didn't feel...exhausted. The process wasn't seamless, of course; there were many trial and errors into properly depicting my main character in an artwork, but it felt good. So good that I explored the many different ways I could depict her.

I found myself gradually rekindling my passion for painting, yet it still didn't quite match the intensity of when I first started out. I couldn't sit down for seven or eight hours straight, solely focused on completing a portrait—and that was okay! To address this challenge, I made the decision to reopen my commission inquiries. I hoped that by receiving a gradual increase in requests from customers, it would reignite my artistic drive and encourage me to complete portraits within set deadlines.

And that's where I stand today!

As a young, ambitious artist, I understand the challenges that come with pursuing a creative career. I hope to inspire and or encourage any artists to continue to pursue their hobbies while still maintaining their personal lifestyles. A grade of your work is not a function of your success and or talent. Everyone's journey is different, but no matter the path, it should be rewarding and a fulfilling process to draw/sketch/paint/etc. As I am still learning everyday, I hope that we can be on this journey together.