How Did I Get Here?

-By Heather Theurer

"The Insatiable Mr. Toad" 

2015

(Record scratch) *Freeze frame* You’re probably wondering how I got into this situation. Actually, I’m wondering how I got into this situation myself. I blame my parents. If it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be here. Oh wait, that might be going back a little too far. I’ll try to keep it relevant.

I often find myself in this similar situation—wondering “how did I get here”? I’m sure many of you feel the same way sometimes. Looking back over my art career, however, I’ve decided that it’s out of those boggling moments that come some of my best work, my favorite sparks of inspiration and the most impactful connections. Because of that, I’ve learned to embrace the new, the challenging, and the awkward. For the sake of clarity, I’ll share a few experiences.

Way back in the stone ages, I decided that I was ready to make creating fine art my career. Knowing how to make that come to pass was completely foreign knowledge. I hadn’t had any art schooling or taken an particular classes on the subject. I didn’t know of anyone, personally, who I felt comfortable turning to for answers. Sure, at the beginning I was creating “art” as a job. As a graphic designer for a publishing company I produced innumerable images for college textbooks. Mostly math graphs. It was exciting work—(insert sarcasm here). But then something happened. I got laid off because the company went under. At the time I thought that this was a horrible thing. I posed the question, “how did I get here?” I was honestly frustrated and directionless. I didn’t know what to do. My options? In a small town with not too many options to choose from, I could have stuffed my dream into a closet and settled for the next best thing—probably a job at Home Depot. Instead, an off-hand comment from a friend mentioning the word “freelance” piqued my interest. I was off and running. Well, maybe not running. I tripped up a lot in those first few years of freelance work; but jumping head first into the world of freelance forced me to learn some valuable lessons. Lessons about managing my own time, budgeting my money so as to keep the bank account balanced even when the income wasn’t regular, and learning not only how to carry conversations with clients but how to meet their needs (as well as my own) without having actually met them in person.

Commissioned artwork for Bella Sara

Hidden City Games 2006

Looking back, I’m glad that that experience happened when it did. It set the groundwork for everything I’ve done since.

Fast forward to 2002. It was my first year at the San Diego Comic-Con and I had an Artist Alley table. Staring out over my piddly display of prints at the thousands of attendees, I was not just asking “how did I get here?”. I was asking, “how the holy flipping crap did I get here?!” It was one thing to have a client approach me about a freelancing job they felt confident I could accomplish and to have a personable conversation with them. I could handle that. It was another whole thing altogether to have to come up with pleasant, passing comments (and sometimes silent smiles for those who offered not-so-kind criticisms) for the thousands of people who rambled past my table over the course of five days at SDCC. I was insecure and quite literally it was all I could do not to crawl under the table to hide. If they asked how much I was selling my prints for, I returned it with a shaky, almost questioning, “twenty dollars?” I had devalued myself as well as the art I was trying to peddle. After my first show there, I wondered whether I’d ever go back. Thankfully, a very good friend convinced me to continue (and continued to convince me for the next few years while I hesitated). It took a while, but sticking it out even though I wanted to run away with my tail tucked between my legs to find something I felt more comfortable doing compelled me to learn to communicate—boldly at that—as well as to find the intrinsic value in my art. It was no longer about how much that piece of paper cost but more about the value of what people got out of it when the carried it away.

"Fire Dragon"

part of a series of elemental dragons 2007

One last experience.

"Thaddeus The Boss: No. 9"

full page spread from the book "Thaddeus The Boss" 2010-2011

Several years into my art career and after I felt I had agreeably reached a degree of competency in my communication and art skills, I came to another point in my life (there’s been too many of them to count which one) where I asked “how did I get here?” At this point I had become somewhat self-sufficient. Instead of struggling, I was comfortably helping to pay the bills (thank goodness for the support of my husband through all of my wandering up until then). I’d even won an art competition or two, been showcased in magazines and had my crazy mug recorded in nationally viewed videos for the sake of posterity, whether they wanted it or not. Here is where it got dicey for me. The recession hit and my husband was without a job for nearly two years—and I decided to get reckless.

"Temptation"

2011

I’d been busting my butt to finish painting after painting and commission after commission just to keep us afloat. Just before this reckless moment, I had barely finished my first children’s book, fully written and illustrated by myself, which included twenty-six 16x20 full-spread detailed oil paintings finished over the course of less than five months. But in the middle of that hectic, stressful adventure, an image came to me that I felt I should paint. It was independent with no connection to anything “useful”, let alone to any money. It was a risk to dedicate my time on something that had no guaranteed outcome of success. Sitting in front of that canvas I was definitely thinking “how did I get here”? Or maybe more appropriately, “should I abandon ‘here’ for something more certain”? The reckless part of me took over and decided to do it anyway. Long story short, what happened was that I changed. I discovered who I was and why it was that I needed to continue to create paintings like that image I took a risk on. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I indeed continued to take commissions and fill in the gaps with guaranteed work, but my direction had changed. Once I had figured that out, there was no going back. And It wasn’t until I entirely embraced that decision that things started to fall into place.

"Triumph"

It’s been a few years since that risky “how did I get here” moment. And I’ve had a few of those moments since then. But now, instead of cautiously approaching them, I stride boldly toward them to shake them by the hand and make them a part of my creative process. I look forward to the next “how did I get here” moment. Who knows what I’ll learn or where it will take me.

Bring it on.

Another World, Another Time

-By Cory Godbey

Another world, another time, in the age of wonder. A thousand years ago this land was green and good -- until the Crystal cracked. For a single piece was lost; a shard of the Crystal. Then strife began.

The Dark Crystal (1982).

Wonder of wonders, how often does this happen? My regularly scheduled Muddy Colors post coincides (Great Conjuction? Hm!) with the release of my new book, Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal Tales.

Faithful readers of Muddy Colors will remember a post from March showcasing the cover reveal of the book. That post featured an in-depth look at the creation of the cover and a bit of background on the project.

As I mentioned in that original post, this was a terrifically challenging book to write. While Labyrinth Tales was a hardcover collecting three of the unrelated Labyrinth short stories I had written and illustrated over the years, there was an opportunity with this follow up book to write three individual stories meant to be read together as a whole. But how to write three stories, stories with characters who can not have met before the events of the film, and have a thread that weaves through and ties them together?

That proved to be the real journey.

To start, this book would follow the same format as Labyrinth Tales, three stories. As I thought through what I wanted to draw (because that's the real benefit of writing the thing as well, isn't it? Writing the characters and locations you'd actually like to draw!) I knew I wanted each of the stories to feature a certain mix of Dark Crystal favorites.

Initially, I wanted a Skeksis story, a Jen and Mystic story, and a Kira and Fizzgig story.

Other than that, I had no idea. As I look back, I was intimidated by how much I love The Dark Crystal. Somehow, silly little Labyrinth stories come easy to me. The characters are big, larger than life, and to sit and ponder just what do they all get up to on a Tuesday felt natural. The themes of The Dark Crystal land with me. They strike a chord. Thra and its inhabitants feel wonderfully, impossibly real. And to be offered a chance to write about that world? Well, that gave me pause (much longer of a pause than my editors were comfortable with, I'm sure).

Above. Story scribbles.

It really is thanks to Fizzgig that I finished this book. Out of the three stories, when I began, only his story was clear in my mind. I had a very loose idea for the Jen story (inspired by the wonderful "shapes of kindness" line from the film) and truthfully no idea for the Skeksis story.

But once I finally got pencil to paper and began to hash out the Kira and Fizzgig story (Fizzgig's Mighty Quest) it began to suggest branching, interweaving paths for the other two stories.

It's a lesson I am obliged to learn again and again: you must spend ideas to get new ideas. When you begin, at last, to put scribbles out into the world they will take on a life of their own. Gently, sometimes very quietly, they will tell you where to go. You just have to trust them.

As I said on my previous post, I wanted to write stories that meant more, stories, that while fun, reflected the themes of the film and were braided together to tell a larger tale than each individual story. Yes, the heart of the world is cracked but piece by piece, every act of kindness goes towards the healing.

Here's a look a few more pages and spreads from the 48 page picture book.

And since it wouldn't be Muddy Colors without a series of process images, here's a look at one of my favorite spreads, start to finish.

Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal Tales is out today!

7 Pieces of Advices I wish I Had Been Told

- By Jesper Ejsing

The Mirror is just bellow the T-rex mouth 

1. Use a mirror 

Now I always have a mirror in front of me. It is positioned on an adjustable arm, so I can pull it around at different angles. I use it for hand gestures and hand ref, and to study mouth and details from my own face. I also use it when I hold up figurines and stuff, like a dinosaur, for reference on dragonheads. Most important is it when used together with traditional art. We all by now know how important it is to flip the canvas horizontally while painting digital, to get a fresh look on things and to spot mistakes that the eye cannot spot, because you have been looking at the image too long, Same with the traditional piece. Hold it up in front of the mirror, and even if you cannot paint in this mirrored version, you can still very effectively see it with a fresh pair of eyes.

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2. Sketch like crazy

Dance video sketching

I was never one of those who sketch all the time. But I wish I were. I have been trying to get in to it, cos I see the benefit all around me. Younger artist I meet sketch all the time. And I feel embarrassed for not doing it too. I have bought sketchbooks and set up deals with myself constantly; that I should sketch every morning, half an hour. All these warm up sketches never really caught on with me. I started sketching people from dance videos, paused at a random place in the video and sketch a 30 seconds figure, started the video, stopped again and drew again. It was great fun but lasted for a week until I got busy doing some real drawings.

I think I just got to accept that I am not a sketch artist, but boy I wish someone had told me how good it is to practice like that 20 years ago. Maybe someone did, I just did not get it.

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3. Challenges

This is kind of a strange advice. But I think that for a long time I stayed too well within my comfort zone and relied to heavily on photo ref to create my images. I know exactly what piece it was that pushed me. I t was my first international cover piece. The commission forced me to tackle three figures and a monster in a setting, something I had always avoided because it was too difficult. I had always made figures seen from bellow on a cliff top to avoid perspective and placement of the figures according to each other and so on. But the specific cover had me jumping out from the artistic cliff and into unknown territory. I finished it and it was better than I had hoped for. The challenge taught me that I should expect more of myself and it got me unafraid of doing big scenes. Now I crave for the opportunity to do multiple figures in fight scenes. If you find that you are doing the same thing over and over, try pushing your boundaries a bit. Set yourself a challenge. Conquering new territory is the best way to become better.

My first real colour cover outside Denmark

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4. Surround yourself with other artists

This is pretty easy. I was at a studio together with other artists for 20 years now. The constant influence, inspiration, help and criticism are invaluable. The daily exposure to other ways of painting and drawing is good for you. Perhaps it is just walking by someone else’s table and seeing a great pose of a figure or asking a fellow artist if he can comment on a composition, no matter how big or small the influence, it is a monster help and something I know has been critical for me in the years when I started out as a professional illustrator. One way is also to create an online group of artist with the same interest as you. Just having someone to send art to and get response from is fantastic.

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5. Paint for fun

I know too well how it feels when there is no separation between your art and your personality. For many years, and to some degree still, I felt like there was no difference between the “Fantasy artist” and Jesper Ejsing. I lived and breathed fantasy art and was constantly evolving as an artist. If someone had any critisism or correction it was like they were correcting my personality and my whole life. If you have everything tied up into your art it becomes too hard a burden to bare over the years. If every painting equals your success in life as a person, it slowly drains away the fun and the happiness. You start evaluation every piece you do from a win or loose perspective. And I assure you it is going to drain you.

Go out and paint a tree, sit by the rocks at the beach and paint some waves splashing against the shore, do a comic book with your kids or illustrate a story written by a 6 year old. Paint flowers in watercolour for your grand mamma, do nude model classes, paint abstract, change medium. Everything you do on the side that is not done to achieve something or to satisfy a client or to raise you, as an artist is time well spent. For no other reason than to keep having fun painting rather than having it become a job.

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6. Collaborate

I started as a colourist in comics. I had to do the colours for artists and people much more skilled at drawing than myself. It has been a real great learning curve. In painting other peoples drawings I got to focus on nothing but colour and value and whatever I could to make the story as clear as possible. In painting on others artwork I learned a lot. I got a hands on experience of how others artist solved things like perspective expressions and composition. And I got to feel it into my fingers putting my fingerprint on the art. I have always tried to continue that in asking artists that I admired and loved if they would ever do collaboration with me. It has been a truly great learning experience seeing something I sketched coming back from Tyler Jacobsen with a perfectly painted face and details in lighting and value that I would never have dreamed of myself…and then have to continue on it.

Even Mehl Amundsen and I

Tyler Jacobsen and I

Steve Prescott and I

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7. Do not panic!

When things seems to go wrong, you feel like you are stalling artistically and it reminds you of running in quicksand, it is usually because it is about to become better. Being an illustrator and an artist who always want to evolve and reach the next level, it is crucial that you have the feeling that you are becoming better for each painting. If you look at something you did and feel it is worse than the last one or that you are making mistakes that you used to be able to handle. Just rest assure that it is a feeling we all have. Often I find that in struggling to achieve something new as a painter I always feel worse when the change is about to happen. It is matter of being able to see something from a new perspective. Every step up the ladder of art reveals a new step. There is no top floor. You are not able to see much more than the next couple of steps ahead of you, but keep climbing.