In my experience, a creative process is an organic buzzing shuffling collection of organized chaos that shifts and squeezes into necessary spaces like a pack of speed skaters or germs under a microscope and we have to let it if we want to see what we are creatively capable of. I have always felt I grow the most when I stop resisting. My process of making has evolved over the years because time required it in every form time takes. Experience leant a hand and the limits of my human body had a say as well. I feel comfortable in my process of illustrating today, but I am fully aware of the need to adapt. Finding a process has been uncomfortable, messy and frustrating one moment then exciting and intuitive the next. Working alone provides many opportunities for doubt and critique especially when I’m working on a new project. I’ve learned the importance of being confident in the way I create work. I’ve found steps in production that really work well for me and steps in respect for the work and the client that are of equal importance to me. Smash them all together and an illustrator will appear.
In the beginning, I worked entirely by hand putting pen to paper.
There were many many pens. I took I was strictly micron at the start. When the pen would die, I’d take the cap and place it to the line of others that had gone before it standing at attention atop the window frame. I’ve always felt more comfortable with pens. When I graduated from college in 2011, I’d tried tablets. Only a few companies were making them and hardly anyone had their own. Most of them, you had to look at the screen and draw on a black pad like a blind contour drawing. The tablets you drew on were huge, expensive and imprecise, both models took hours and hours to master. I clearly remember trying a massive Waccom tablet at school, looking so closely at the cursor to see that I wasn’t imagining things—it was off by a handful of pixels which was as good as it was going to get at the time. I passed and stuck to what I knew.
Me painting in 2011. Below left to right, a few of the envelopes, inking over watercolor, drawings ready to scan.
At the start, I would add color with watercolor but found both the intricacies of the paint and the paper itself didn’t scan very well in 2011. There was a box full of 5000 pieces of printer paper I’d rest my feet on while I worked that took me five years to work through. Corrections happened on a small desk top light box my dad (a dentist) used to view x-rays. I’d redraw the part that needed to be fixed again and again until I got it how I wanted. I know I did not need to do things this way, but I enjoyed the ritual. To my left an HP all-in-one printer/scanner quickly replaced by a Canon photo scanner and shelves with dozens of manila envelopes organized chronologically where I stored each piece of each drawing. This began out of fear of being sued or to defend a copyright and turned into a collection now sealed in storage bins in my basement resembling Warhol’s Time Capsules. Makes me cringe a little when I think about it, but things were different! There was no social media, I had an iPod nano give me a break.
It took much longer than it should have for me to leave my curmudgeon behind and make the iPad switch because I was calling my stubbornness integrity but my workaholic brain needed to take on more (I literally hiked through snow to pick it up). My iPad pro, Apple pencil and I are so happy together. Before you start to worry— yes I still have the drawers full of pens. I took that picture at the top minutes ago.
Step 1: Research
My research notes from an editorial assignment, 2024.
While the final application of an illustration does change my approach to construction and delivery, the process begins the same; with research. I believe in order to creatively represent something, you need to fundamentally understand it to the best of your ability. Fluency is not required when it comes to a subject matter in most cases, but a general understanding can lead to clever, unique interpretation. Sometimes a subject is so technical or complex that I request research from the professional who authored the piece/book/product. The research phase is important to me. I feel it shows respect for the client, often presenting me with material mastered in a field much different than my own.
An illustration is the greeter. It invites the viewer/reader/consumer to participate and prepares them for what’s to come. Think of book covers, cereal boxes, newspaper articles. This is why illustration matters. For that reason, research matters a great deal in supporting carefully constructed tirelessly proofed content.
I read the piece, research the company, generally familiarize myself with the subject of the illustration. I like to do this first so my ideas are not effected by anything I might see in references. I find visuals influence my ideas so much that I need to take in the content before I look at any images. This way, I feel I can create work entirely from my mind instead of subconsciously being informed by someone else work or a reference I find. I write down words and phrases that feel very visual. If it’s a brand, I take note of their values and any imagery or tone they seem to gravitate towards. I look into certain aspects to further understand them so I can properly represent their key components. This is important even if the image is a creative interpretation. It needs to be digested quickly in a way that communicates the subject clearly even in an abstract way. Once I feel like I’m in a good place with comprehending the content, I move on to the specifics of the image.
Step 2: References
Reference provided by publisher, sketch, and final cover design.
Moving from research to references will happen very naturally. Some clients provide their own references and many will provide them when asked. I use references for many reasons—composition inspiration, perspective, color, texture, expressions, mechanics to name a few. I like to organize mine on Pinterest in private folders. They have a ton of reference material and I’ve found this is the easiest way to keep it all in one place. At times, I require more technical references that I keep in the cloud but Pinterest is usually my go to.
The subject matter and application of the illustration informs the type and accuracy of the references you’ll need. If I feel really stuck on a piece, references can inspire me in a certain direction. I’ll often share references I find with the client especially if there is a direction I’d like to go in that is difficult to explain.
Step 3: Color Palette
Corporate clients come with branding guides in tow that include color palettes and editorial clients often have color palettes in mind already. If they don’t have anything in mind for color, asking about a general feel or style helps direct palette research. Consider the context, the audience and the tone when choosing colors. While Pinterest is also great for this, I often find great luck happening upon color palettes in everyday life. This is one of the hazards of the job—it’s impossible to turn off.
There are illustrators, designers, and artists that find one palette they love and stick with it through their entire body of work. I don’t think I could ever do this. It’s so much more fun to explore the possibilities of color.
I used to really struggle with color in my work. I would over think it and my work would just look muddy and dull. It was returning to the fundamentals of understanding color that helped me feel more confident in my color choices. For this reason, I embrace searching for color palettes in the wild. It’s great exercise for the color muscle and creates a library to reference when needed.
In my next post, I’ll unpack the last four steps of my process: Thumbnails, Sketching, Revisions, and Final.
So glad you’re here to nerd out with me! How does the beginning of your process differ from mine? Process is an organic thing for me. I love to learn and hearing how others work brings me so much joy and definitely informs my practice. Please share! Until next time enjoy finding those palettes in the wild.