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There is no “undo” button to fall back on in life. Any piece of paper you etch your pencil or pen into holds a long-standing grudge compared to the easily forgiving landscape that is a virtual canvas. I think if I had been as easy to forgive as the drawing software on my iPad is, I never would have had to live without art at all. Better late than never, I suppose. Three and a half years of experience in digital art so far has taught me that… You have to embrace the ugly. (EDIT: 09.12.2024 - I meant to say three and a half years, not two and a half.) No matter what.
Many times I have been told I have a very unique art style. The compliment I receive the most about it is: “Oh my gosh, I love the colors you chose!” If you haven't seen any of the art that I have posted here on my website yet, I think you would see why people say that once you do. I lean into vibrant and saturated colors. Which is pretty surprising, even for myself. I wasn’t always this way. In fact, I used to be very afraid of color. However, digital art lent me the forgiveness I needed to see a way out of that.
Here is my disclaimer: I understand that actually using colored tools in the realm of the three-dimensional and the living provides an experience that digital art could never. The canvas that a software application spawns on-demand will never be that of an oil-painting.
I hear most people argue that the major ‘pro’ of digital art is that you do not have to spend hundreds of dollars on art supplies. I’d have to agree. In all honesty, that’s not the primary reason why I love digital art so much. Sheepishly, I confess, it is the magic of the “undo” button that keeps me going. (Is it terrible to admit that I am only half-joking?)
My journey began in early-to-mid 2021, not long after the world as were knew it had succeeded in systematically deconstructing itself. Back then, I had received an iPad Pro as a hand-me-down from my father. It wasn’t too old, but it was definitely worn out. It certainly had its own charm. I mean, when I held it up, I could see the back of its metal casing caving in. So, quickly, I put a big, black rubber case over it. After that, all of its imperfections were easy to forget. Out of sight, and out of mind. (: The iPad was a generous gift to receive nonetheless. And yet, I wasn’t too eager to fully utilize it immediately. At the time, I still had a very complicated relationship with art. That tends to happen to people whose parents are already highly-esteemed and accomplished artists themselves.
As you can see, the reason behind why I had previously decided to end my art career in the past, came from the exact same place from which it had been born: my father.
For more nights than I can possibly remember, I watched as whirring machines and vibrating needles penetrated the skin of adults, the kind who were living on the fringes of society. I should have been in bed, probably. I should have been at home, most likely. For whatever reason, I spent countless evenings staying up way past my limits, wishing and waiting to go home to be able to sleep in my own bed. Frankly, my father had other plans in mind. He was restless in his pursuit to hone his skills as a tattoo apprentice, and transform them into that of a master.
A child can only spend so many nights like that before they become bored out of their mind. Children shouldn’t really be in tattoo parlors to begin with, but hey, I was an apprentice’s kid. Where else would I go? I was quiet enough to be able to stay.
My spot was in the back room. No phones then. I had no internet access, either. Without anyone else to really talk to, and nowhere else to be, I was limited in my options. To keep the slow mind-rot at bay, I did what any other rational child would do: I tried doing as my dad was doing. I mean, he doing good at staying preoccupied. So, why can’t I? NO, I don’t mean I was tattooing other humans beings! (Heavens, no. The adults in there weren’t THAT irresponsible. Rough-on-the-edges doesn’t exactly translate to totally irresponsible.) What I mean is that I decided to make my own attempts at drawing beautiful things, too. I wanted to be cool, like my dad.
As a small child, it felt like I had a world’s worth of reference at my fingertips in there. There were panels upon panels of flash art at my disposal, covering every spare inch of every wall. Truly, I was honored. I felt pretty lucky as a kid, knowing that other people my age weren’t usually allowed to go into tattoo parlors like this. (Yes, I am completely aware that I was not supposed to be in there myself either, but what can you do?) I understood that I had way more access to much more material than the average chuckle-head would.
With the smell of sanitary chemicals lingering in the air, and the sounds of pained groans in moments where flesh was being pierced, it all enhanced that feeling I was having inside of me. That feeling that told me, “I’m in a strange place, so I’d better take advantage of it while I can.” After a while, I began to adopt the title of being “my father's daughter”. Peculiar and beautiful women were saying the most inappropriate things around me! But they would smile at me. And they were kind to me. Plus, they were very, very pretty ladies. Vulgar men were rapping with each other and getting the ink fix they’d been itching for, for so long, they’d say! But they were also the type who would ask me if they could get me another water, or anything else, even buy me a gumball out of the gumball machine since they knew my dad was too busy to be able to check in on me. Yes, I was among a certain kind of company - the kind of people your mother typically warns you about. I was so happy about it!They slowly became more warm towards me over time.
Me, adapting to being in that environment all of the time changed me. I let it become a part of me. With open arms, I welcomed the spirit of art itself in to stay.
Later on, circumstances outside of the realm of creativity had an indirect, yet significant effect, on this aspect of my life, to put it mildly. (This blog post is not about that.) So, needless to say, I decided to walk down the path that would have had me avoid becoming my own father’s apprentice eventually. For me, the opportunity was right there for the taking. Instead… I chose to walk away from it. Not so long after that decision was made, every other pursuit related to art as well, I let slip away and out of my life. It was tough, but I was glad. It felt like I was putting my late child to rest, finally. This process felt mighty unfortunate, but necessary, even though it did leave me feeling a little empty on the inside. The love was gone…
I had a friend tell me one time, when you truly love something, it never leaves your heart.
Come to find out, my love for art never abandoned me, even though I had turned my back on it. Not one single bit of it dwindled out of my being. In hindsight, I know now I spent more time trying to reject that part of me while dismissing the reasons why I would do such a thing, rather than being constructive about finding a new path and falling in love with something else. So, when I received that iPad from my father many years later, after swearing that I would never do art again… it was only Fate that I would pick it back up.
It was inevitable that I would make a return to the scene. That doesn’t mean it was an easy process to undergo. Of course, it was exciting to tap into that part of me again, after not having drawn for so long. I can’t lie; most nights that I tried doing it again ended with me frustrated beyond belief. Frequently, I felt discouraged, unworthy, and disheartened. Sometimes, those nights would end up with me in tears. Those experiences of me believing that whatever I was trying to create was not good enough, rendered me feeling utterly hopeless. Nonetheless, there was a fire burning within! I felt I couldn’t give up this time! This go at art - this one - this was for me.
My endeavors were approached in the most unconventional way possible, and probably the most inefficient way, too. When I started taking my digital art seriously, I told myself that I wanted to improve it through my own experiences only. I wanted to teach myself how to use the program without looking up any tutorials. I refused to look up how to use any of the tools within Procreate, or watch any videos on how to improve my skills as a digital artist. In retrospect, this is pretty stupid. I could have saved myself a LOT of headache and time just not being stubborn as I was.
What can I say? I’m a stubborn guy.
Since I knew basically zilch from the very get-go, most of my attempts at making “good” art were pretty lackluster. I KNOW I can attribute this to my unwavering conviction in teaching myself everything I know. So, when I DID manage to create something that exemplified my experience accumulating, I ended up showing it to my father for his feedback. Can’t get better without constructive criticism! (For context, my father also has experience with digital art.)
Well... these were merely sketches I was showing to him. In the past, he has encouraged me to try implementing color, even more so after he gave me his old iPad. I had never really done it before, so I was overly hesitant to try it out. Truthfully, I was also slightly defensive in my stance against it, because I was so uncomfortable with it.
...
For someone like me, it’s still harder to walk away from a discussion looking like a coward for virtually no good reason. The very next thing I did after saying I would not touch color was try to do a colored piece. Instant regret. I knew in my heart, despite my shortcomings, that nothing good ever comes easy. I read up on literature about color theory. When my artworks were lacking in depth, I looked into what terminators were in lighting . When my shading looked unrealistic, I spent time understanding the light and how it works, and when it looked wimpy, I dare went darker, and when my colors wouldn’t pop, I reduced the saturation of my artworks to 0% to see the difference in the values of my colors against one another, to get a better understanding of why it was happening.
Any kind of growing you ever do will eventually bring you to some sort of uncomfortable halt at some point of, if not many different points throughout, your life. My biggest hurdle like that was when I needed to come to terms with the fact that my natural art style – the one that is inherent to me and comes most naturally – was that of my own father’s. After all, the darkest parts in my relationship with art came from my fear of living in his shadow. I had to do a lot of self-reflecting and bargaining with myself, to get myself to understand what it is exactly that I am willing to lose over this dilemma. What will I gain from disowning those parts of my father within myself? Once I was able to swallow my pride, and look beyond the pain in all of it, I finally was able to run. It was the best decision I have ever made in my digital art career.
You will see it reflected in my writings, and in the themes which inspire my art; that juxtaposition is my favorite device to implement into my art. Dark, harsh, and overbearing colors, infused with soft, kind, and hopeful spirits – that’s MY kind of thing. Who doesn’t love cute and menacing anyway? >:3
It’s just in my nature, and I want to give the best parts of me to the world. It’s what I have to offer. I am a hopeful and optimistic individual, so, people are usually pretty shocked whenever my art comes out so gruesomely violent and dark. The expressions on the faces of my family members… it makes me chuckle a bit now. Rest assured, the work I do is all in good spirits. Doing what I do, the way I do, is my way of approaching these types of things and making peace with them. To flesh them out in the waking world in this way satiates the monsters within. I want to be able to help other people do the same, and be less scared while doing so, knowing they go into this with confidence because they are not alone.
I am able to give such demons a fair assessment in the physical realm BECAUSE I write it down. In my head, they and I wage wars on and on, with no end in sight. We don’t understand how either of us began and we can’t ever come to a resolution. We don’t see eye-to-eye on hardly anything, and we can’t stand why the other does the things that they do. We feel we are being dominated by one another. That’s why I think we fight each other. We are just fighting to stay alive. Nobody wants to be killed… Do you even understand the person you are trying to kill? (Sorry this went weirdly meta.)
No amount of “undo”-ing will change the fact that the ugly was there in the first place, because YOU will know that it was there. No amount of not acknowledging it will make things better. Ugly is part of the process, much like how the destination is only half the journey. The term is, “tortured artist”, isn’t it? On the other hand, the only way for an artist to finally start flourishing is to make amends with all the things about our art we can’t help but hate: the lines we make, the sketches that just will not turn out, the colors that became too muddied… Or where our love for art came from. Because… without undergoing that trial of maturation, the necessary mending required for mastery to unfold, we will miss out on the most important lesson in all of art, which is why we do art in the first place.
So, when I am asked what my art style is, I would say… it’s just my lifestyle.
TL;DR: My father is a tattoo artist, so I become interested in art from an early age. As an adult, my father gave me his old iPad as a hand-me-down. I said, “No.” Because I never wanted to do art again after swearing I never would, but did it anyway. Three and a half years later, I’m still doing it. And I think I am a better person because of it. (: (EDIT: 09.12.2024 - Same mistake here. I meant to say three and a half years, not two and a half.)
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