Sometimes I wonder how much I’m influenced by, “the people”. I started to notice it with my drawing, but it shows in other areas too.
I really like to watch videos online of people creating art. (Especially hyper realistic stuff.) I see it, and think, “If I wanna be a good, established artist, it has to look exactly like that. My art has to be what the world thinks is ‘good’ if I wanna make it.” So, I try and make something like that. I sit down, start drawing, and do one of two things:
- Get frustrated because my drawing isn’t exactly the same (which it never will be because I’m not the artist who made that drawing in the first place)
- Branch off into my own creative focus that turns what I started making into something that is completely unique; something based off my thoughts and skills, and is fueled by my passions and inspirations
There is a huge difference between being inspired by something, and conforming to what you think people want. It’s okay to look at a comic strip and think, “Hey, that’s cool. I’m gonna make one of those.” But, it’s not okay to think, “This has to look exactly the same to be called a comic strip.” Because, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one piece of art really looks the same. They may have similarities, but they’re also filled with flaws, and different, beautiful angles, that make them unique. Kinda like people.
A year ago I would’ve done the exact thing I’m telling you not to do. I wanted to be “good”, so I did what everyone else did. But, then I learned to stop caring. That’s why I stopped posting all my art on social media for a while. I didn’t want critics, or reviews. I knew everyone had their own opinions, and that there was a 50/50 chance I would get positive or negative feedback. So, I painted for me. I painted what I felt, and what I saw, and I didn’t care what anyone else thought. That way, it would truly be my art. And no one else’s.
At Halloween I decided I wanted to paint Starry Night, by Van Gogh. Ya know what happened? It didn’t turn out the same. It was filled with flaws, and imperfections. But I didn’t care. I just kept painting, and it felt great.