I still remember the first time I started drawing. I was five. The excitement I had was that of a kid, childish and intriguing, yet unaware of the full extent of the knowledge bound within it. It was vague, but it meant something to me back then.
Perhaps it was this curiosity to uncover materialistic knowledge that incited hidden emotions. Eventually, it started to develop into a hobby – something that I would treasure to myself. To become better at it, I needed to learn from someone who embraced its existence and understood silent perfection. What was more important was the curiosity to discover what I would achieve from this. The art classes that I went to were valuable, so valuable in fact that the skills I’ve acquired from those classes benefited me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. It worked like a charm; although, I wasn’t particularly pleased with the pace of my learning. Despite being surrounded by creative sophistication, the motive didn’t last long, and subsequently, whatever my mentor taught seemed familiar enough after a while. The four-month-long course shaped the roots and laid a solid foundation for my learning, and what came after that was the desire to discover and redefine my art form. The decision to drop out of those classes would’ve been a mistake, or so I thought. Eventually, I decided that if I was going to get better at it, I might as well do it at my own free will. And dropping out would mean that additionally, I would be able to learn whatever was missing, and fill in each gap.
As optimistic as I was, I knew things would go south, considering how ineffective my color blending was. Color blending is one of those things that requires consistent practice, and before I knew it, I was back to square one. However, with time, I gradually got hold of something that seemed unlikely a few months back. Eventually, months of practice paid off, and I had a set of Polychromos colors for me to work with. It seemed absurd to consider purchasing expensive colors back then, but it turned out to be much bigger than that.
The effect the colors had on my artwork was unbelievable, and I couldn’t ask for more. Being a 24-color set, I realized the drawbacks that would hit with not having a full set of skin tones. Although the artworks checked other boxes from the list, they still failed in delivering the ideal skin colors. This lack of skin tones meant that I had to either rely on the available set of colors or invest in an extra set of skin tones to bring out the most accurate skin blends. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon Copic markers. At first, I was skeptical since they seemed just like the markers I used to use when I was a kid. Safe to say, I wasn’t really a fan of it since I knew that a lot of things could go wrong with them. But I knew these were different – they were more than just different. I grew fascinated with them ever since. Apart from being extremely easy to use, they could be layered over to produce deep contrasts and bright highlights. Furthermore, the Polychormos colors layered over Copic markers created a flawless and explosive color combination. It was spotless on paper and complimented the foundation laid by Copic markers in ways I wouldn’t have imagined.
The confidence that grew from making mistakes clouded the reason to be afraid, and the intention to discover contemporary wisdom sought to be unique. In the same way, the positive feedback I received from a vast number of audience drove me to build a personalized art website to bring out the best in all the years of my work. Countless unknown wonders exist between what is known and what isn’t, and the inspiration compelled me in hopes that I would entertain, encourage, and leave a footprint for many more to follow.