advice Archives - Page 14 of 28

Snippets from AFCC 2014

Hi folks!

Right now I’m still in Singapore for the Asian Festival of Children’s Content (AFCC), and I just wanted to leave you with a few insightful quotes that I’ve gathered from some of the speakers that has inspired me this year:

From illustrator James Mayhew:

A style is artificial. You should try to be you. Far better to be an honest illustrator who can be flexible about telling a story.

Children’s books aren’t just cute illustrations.

Illustration is an act of courage.

Never underestimates what would get a kid excited. Adults are the ones with the narrow worldview.

From illustrator Javier Zabala (read my interview with him here!):

It’s not just the techniques. If an illustration isn’t technically good, but tells a story, I’ll prefer it over an illustration that is masterful in technique but lacks emotion.

Illustration is communication.

Throw away your erasers.

And a few more from various other speakers:

“Typography & images can support each other in delivering a message. But they don’t have to say the same thing.” ~ Mariko Takagi, designer, author and lover of typography

“Publishers now think of themselves as entertainment companies.” ~ Eric Huang, Development Director, Made in Me, UK

“You do not need any permission to reach a global audience.” ~ Bill Belew, Social Media Consultant

“Seriously, do think about self-publishing your work instead of merely waiting for validation from gatekeepers.” ~ Fran Lebowitz, former literary agent with Writers House

I’ll catch up with you guys next week as I’ll be moderating the masterclass with Javier Zabala and Frane Lessac tomorrow!

[Image: That’s Javier sketching up a storm!]

We’re made up of tangled strings

There were bags and bags of potato chips around. A container full of soda and a seemingly never-ending supply of ice around each corner of the room. The floor was littered with bean bags of all different shapes, sizes and colours, like oversized candy pillows.

As I step into the room, friends greeted me left and right. “Hey Pikaland!” they’d shout as they gave me a fist bump. It’s a place where your Twitter handle’s your first name and other things immaterial slide to the wayside. Race, gender and language dissipates: leaving behind only the love of ideas and the technology that can bring them to life. It was a place where fingers worked hard to keep up with the stream of code that pours from one’s mind.

It was 2011 and a hackathon (a hacking marathon) was in full swing. But I wasn’t a hacker.

I came to the event, knowing full well that my coding skills were amateurish at best, and riddled with problems at worst. But that didn’t deter me at all. I knew these amazing bunch of people from monthly meetups that brought together people from the tech industry. This included everyone from big corporations to small start-ups; from entrepreneurs to family businesses – all looking for a way to leverage technology to help them navigate this new era we all live in. The hackathon was one of the many events that brought them all together to work on ideas that could change the community, or the world for the better.

I saw a friend sitting in a booth with 3 other guys, and scored an invitation to come join them. I’m an illustrator, I said – and they all remarked that it was incredibly cool that I get to work with my hands. I told them that they’re doing exactly the same thing – the only difference was the output; everything else was generated through good old-fashioned brain power.

We talked a lot during my time at the hackathon – we talked about business, competition and how developers find freelance jobs (oDesk was a good place to find talent, and elance.com can sometimes come up short). I got myself a Dribbble invite and learned that one of the guys at the table worked for Envato. We talked tech, but we also talked a lot about business, and life as an entrepreneur. The room was 98% guys and I was just one of the few girls who participated – but I wasn’t made to feel any less competent. Instead, I was celebrated as a wild card, a secret weapon that the group had over the rest. It was tremendous fun.

Though our group worked through the night, we didn’t win. It was a dating app called Icebreaker that offers introverted, shy tech guys topics that they could talk to girls about. At first I was a little perplexed by the idea, but then I came to understand why they might need such a thing to kick start a conversation (remember, this was back in the day when the term introvert hasn’t blown up yet!) I contributed quite a bit to the cause: I came up with most of the topics and lines for the app and vetoed the ones that didn’t fit (or would most likely scare girls away), and an illustration for it as well (boy, were they tapping into my strengths!)

All in all – I had a great time. Why?

I didn’t let the fear of not belonging stop me from being there. (remember, I could count the number of girls on my hand, in a room full of guys)
I didn’t feel bothered that I wasn’t adequately skilled in programming – I had other skills to offer
I genuinely had an interest in tech and I wanted to learn more by immersing myself head on in this intense event! plus;
I’m a geek at heart

Why am I telling you this?

I wanted to remind you that you’re more than just an illustrator or an artist.

Your skill set isn’t just limited to what you can physically and technically achieve. Drawing, painting, and illustrating may be your output – but what matters very much is the input too: the things you read, the people you meet and talk to; and the experiences you collect along the way. The combination of all these inputs manifests in an incredible process that makes you truly unique, along with the output you produce.

We’re all more than just a label we put on ourselves – we’re complicated and unpredictable – a giant tangle of strings that come from many different sources. Each string mingles, crisscrosses and even blends into others to form new strands – of personalities, knowledge and beliefs – that further defines who we are. We’re not just one ball made up of one homogenous string.

So let’s do a bit of an exercise: let’s put the term artist aside for a while – what else do you consume? What else do you do? What else do you know? What topics do you love? What defines you as a person? Share them with me in the comments below!

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How I conquered my fear of failure

Ever remember how scared you were when you did something new?

I get scared every time. I’m easily scared. And that’s the truth.

It’s not just the big stuff either. It’s the small stuff. I constantly worry about whether I’m doing the right thing, if I’m good enough, if other people think I’m good enough, whether an idea will sink like Titanic or will it fly. Worse, what if it just get several hundred yawns across the world? That would not be good. To me, it’s worse than the idea tanking altogether.

As I get older, I find that it’s easier to allow fear to take over. Maybe because I know I did a lot of crazy things when I was younger. Like the time when I came home from my job as a full-time magazine editor at 8pm at night, and then coding up my blog until 3am (darn those pre-Wordpress days) and then going to work at 8am the next day – without ever knowing what will come out at the end of all that. I did this for a few months until everything was set up just the way I wanted it to be.

Or like the time I climbed a few respectable mountains during my school days. Before I started my first climb, I was so scared that I couldn’t complete the tough trail ahead, which usually took about 8-10 hours. Or worse yet, my team mates would have to bring me down on a stretcher (that happened to someone else!) That didn’t happen at all; though along the way, I got bitten by leeches so bad that when I picked them up, all fat and heavy from sucking up my blood, I just tossed it over my shoulder like they were nothing but pieces of lint that hung to my shins. Meh, I said, and plodded on.

So when in retrospect (maybe it is for me) – when I think of the stuff I did when I was younger, I feel like those days were an adventurous time in my life. As I grew older, I learned to avoid the potholes and to fix things that go bump in the night. I started to feel safe – and I even subconsciously choose the safe route, instead of taking small risks or even go in search adventure. Looking back, I might even think that what I did back then was foolish. And I bet that if people ask me if I would do it all over again right now, I’d think “heck no way!” But I’m glad I did – and I’m better for it.

When we’re younger it’s easier to heal from rejections, and somehow our skin is a little thicker too. It’s easy to want to take the quick road, the one with the less hassle and obstacles. The one where you know exactly what happens next. The safe option. But life isn’t like that.

It was crazy of me to think that I could survive on my own – joining the ranks of many freelancers out there after I said goodbye to a stable and rather glamorous job as a magazine editor. But I did. Although I was living in fear for the first two years – wondering when my time was up and that I would go back to working in a cubicle – I just tried my best and put myself out there. And here I am, 6 years on, going strong and having lots of fun.

It was crazy of me to create an online class for artists and illustrators that told them to try new methods for getting themselves out there, instead of just sticking with what was the norm (which hadn’t worked for many). Sure, I was scared of being a failure – but it didn’t matter, because I had a mission, and I did it because I didn’t feel right if I didn’t at least try to change some minds.

And just recently, it was crazy of me to start a survey where I asked information about income. I had wanted to do it for the longest time, and it wasn’t just because I was curious. It was for a bigger reason – I’ve talked to a few artists and illustrators who were doing other jobs on the side (myself included) and I thought it was something that was never talked about openly. So I thought to myself, why not start a conversation around it? And so I did.

And oh wow did I learn a lot. And it wasn’t just the stuff that you guys were sharing with me. I learned things I never thought of before I launched the survey. I sat on it for 3 weeks before I plucked up enough courage to hit the launch button. But apparently 3 weeks wasn’t enough because I missed the mark on quite a bit of things. Things like how I should have looked properly at the main continents of the world instead of just looking at my stats (sorry people in Africa!) Or the fact that maybe some people would have wanted to not share their income for the survey (I’ve added the option to avoid it if you’re uncomfortable). There’s more, but I’m already embarrassed enough as it is. The main thing is, I wouldn’t know all of these things if I hadn’t put myself out there, and especially if YOU didn’t tell me. But I’m so glad you did.

Because I know that with every choice I make there is an opportunity to learn and to grow.

And I don’t want to grow old and be afraid of failure.

I’ve learned that conquering my fear of failure doesn’t just come from doing the work or putting myself out there. It’s about being hopeful that whatever happens, I’ll trust that it’s going to be fine – especially if I learn from the experience and make sure I won’t repeat the mistakes I made. I don’t want to let the accumulation of age or experience hinder me from taking that leap into the unknown, because I’m still constantly surprised at where I land when I do.

So here I am. I’m listening.

And my question for you is this: what have you done to conquer your fear today? Are you taking that small step in trying out a new illustration style? Or are you planning to talk to your boss about trying out a new flexi-time schedule so that you’ll have more work-life balance? Or are you gathering up enough courage to say hello to that girl you see every day at the library? Share your story with me in the comments – I’d love to know.

NOTE: The Pikaland 2014 survey will still be up for another 24 hours, so if you haven’t participated, consider this your last call!