Tag: art

It’s the time of the year when you look back over the past twelve months to see what you have accomplished. In retrospect, 2024 to me was struggle after struggle, from arts to personal life.

A year of failed and rejected projects

Overall this year I worked more on series rather than individual commissions, especially since the introduction of generative images in the first few months of the year. The new exciting AI interests people with an illusion of getting good artworks for free. However, the flow of personal commissions starts again from October, which is not so surprising to me at all. The basic brick of generative image is data, not creativity or emotion. Personal commissions do not only need likeness, but also personal touches and modifications from both the artist and the ones being portrayed.

Series illustrations does provide a better and more stable income than personal commissions. However, to prove that you are able to complete a large amount of work with consistency in quality, it takes much more efforts. Truthfully, I failed in a few significant chances that stays in my mind longer than I expect.

A year of stagnancy in learning

I also failed in my learning goals this year. It feels like I have arrived at the stagnant part of the learning curve. My self-set up curriculum started falling part in June, I felt stuck in learning Storyboard. After procrastinating for a month, I decided to drop this subject and maybe come back to it again. Other studying goals felt frozen, and I couldn’t see any improvements except from sketchbooks piling over in the corner of my room. I must have passed the exciting beginner phase of learning arts now, no subject seems completely new now. It’s now the phase of repetition and patience.

My whole system of working and studying became too much for me to handle at certain points. I set up a complex Notion dashboard in January, and after a period of complex projects requiring quick turnarounds, the whole system started crumbling. The daily to do list of Notion was unlimited, which gave me a false idea of my capability. Furthermore, I missed using papers, the idea of ticking done to a task and how my pen moved across the papers. I’m still using it as store some lists and resources for blogging, and happy to be back with my handmade A6 notebooks.

I forced myself to learn things I don’t really like, hoping to cultivate a new aspect in my arts. In the first few months, I learned animal anatomy and started reviewing human anatomy in the later part of the year. These new knowledge doesn’t show up right away in my paintings, even the personal pieces. It only came to the surface after a long time brewing, it started with my realization that my artworks lack spirits or liveliness. I’m starting with small animals and human silhouettes.

I started to feel the urge to add more details, every now and then when I looked back some old pieces, I felt I could have added more characters to the scene instead of going the easy way. Of course, this led to less paintings done and a major portion of each need to be done at home instead of at the place. Being a quantity person, I can’t help thinking “I’m doing less this year”.

A year of resilience

A few sentences I often tell myself this year is “hang in a bit more”, “I can tolerate this a bit more” and “be resilient”. These reminders come from a podcast story I hold close to my heart—the story of Abigail May Alcott Nieriker. She was the inspiration for the character Amy in Little Women, but her real-life journey is even more inspiring. Abigail didn’t give up her dream of becoming an artist to marry a wealthy man; instead, she achieved recognition by exhibiting her work (of a black female!) at the prestigious Salon in France. She did marry eventually, but it was for love and much later in her life. (Interestingly, Laurie was entirely fictional and not based on any real person.) Her story is a true testament to perseverance and determination. She is a hard-working artist, passionate painter and devoted educator -I deeply relate to her journey—I sympathize with her struggles, feel inspired by her resilience, and see her as a role model.

Another source of strength and motivation for me is literature. I read many novels by Kazuo Ishiguro this year: An Artist of the Floating World, Klara and the Sun, Never let me go (a re-read), and Annie Ernaux: A girl’s story, Shame, A Woman’s story. The most interesting novel is The Bathroom by Jean-Philippe Toussaint, weirdly writing about almost the same thing I wrote in my journal but in a more beautiful way. Here are a few passages that I love:

70) But when I thought more deeply, and after I hadfound the cause for all our distress, I wanted to discover its reason. I found out there was a valid one, which consists in the natural distress of our weakand mortal condition, and so miserable that nothing can console us, when we think it over (Pascal, Pensees).

49) Seated on the edge of the bathtub, I explained to Edmondsson that perhaps it was not very healthy, at age twenty-seven going on twenty-nine, to live more or less shut up in a bathtub. I ought to take some risk, I said, looking down and stroking the enamel of the bathtub, the risk of compromising the quietude of my abstract life for
… I did not finish my sentence.

50) The next day, I left the bathroom.

Literature consoles me differently from social media or modern psychology. Instead of labelling, it just describes. It tells a story of thoughts, emotions and imaginations. How do I feel this year? I feel like a caterpillar slowly breaking my cocoon to realize that I’m still a caterpillar. At least, I’m still crawling forwards.