My earliest memories of drawing conjure up feelings jealousy. I remember lying next to my grandfather, the feeling of our soft coffee colored carpet under my stomach, and I remember just watching him. Completely neglecting my own princess-themed coloring book, while tightly gripping my crayons in fifty percent amazement and fifty percent aggression as I watched his own hands glide across the coloring book. He always wore a huge silver watch on his right wrist, and I specifically remember this because I constantly watched his right hand. Transfixed with how gracefully he shaded things in, never getting any color outside the line. Applying a variation between light and firm pressure on the crayon so that it created a beautiful shading and subtle texture on the page. I was amazed but also cross with him; why couldn’t I color things in like that? I began drawing in my own coloring book with an absorption to match the neatness and artistry of my pop pop’s coloring. And thus my humble beginnings as a young artist began as a copycat; going through three stages of artistry, before maturing into my artistic sense of self, today.
If stage one of my “copycat identity” was the “coloring with my grandpop” stage of my life; stage two was the “giving my drawings as gifts” stage of my life. Whatever my or my family’s favorite cartoon on Disney character was at the time I would randomly draw it and give them as gifts. Again, I had to resort to looking at pictures in books, Nickelodeon magazines or on my VHS video covers in order to draw it accurately. I was not good at just drawing something without looking at it first, but I never traced! Tracing to me was some sort of horrible, dishonest crime to me and still slightly appalls me to this day. Anyone could trace something! It wasn’t a cool gift if I traced a picture and gave it to someone; it wasn’t something I created! Where’s the talent in that?
One thing that did bother me however; was that I would copy my drawings down with a 97% accuracy that no matter how hard I tried, could never 100% achieve. Chuckie Finster’s glasses were supposed to be just a bit more to the right or Tweety Bird’s eyes were supposed to shine just a bit brighter. When I was younger this incensed me; however, as I grew older I began to revel in it. Purposely adding changes to the characters by placing them in different backgrounds or different positions to fit my aesthetic. To envision what I wanted for the character and create it through my own eyes; this brings me to stage three.
“Designers... You have one hour!” It was that phrase said by the esteemed Tim Gun that brought a drastic change to my illustrations. “Project Runway”, a hit that came out in the early 2000’s, featured a group of fashion designers competing for their chance to present a collection at New York Fashion Week, and win money to start their own clothing line. This show gave me a closer look at the fashion industry and how people take their drawings and make them a reality. Sure, I had sketched costumes and fashion before, but they were random and childlike. Dissatisfied with my everyday ensembles, I started to draw what I actually wanted to wear (mostly ball gowns and princess dresses) and what I envisioned those characters would wear while they were off living happily ever after. Like I said childish, but “Project Runway” showed me the adult world of fashion sketching; something I was extremely impressed by and wanted to try my hand at.
By watching episodes each week and seeing the different tools used (they had colored pencils other than Crayola?) my sketches began to look vastly different. It’s funny, because I always thought my sketches were really good, until I saw other people’s sketches and realized...they weren’t. I used little to no shading, I used only marker for clothing and colored pencils for skin, and my figures looked flat and were incredibly small in stature. I didn’t realize that the figures needed to be 8-10 heads tall so that one could actually see the clothing. I didn’t know that one should add shading and some sort of texture to the clothing in order to create dimension. I didn’t even think to add swatches of fabric to the paper to convey to others exactly what kind of feel the clothing would have. I also possessed no theme. Just random outfits appearing as if out of nowhere with little to no connection. This show taught me about collections. How designers take one or multiple elements and themes, and create designs/clothing that are somehow or another linked to each other; that tell a story. I took all of this information and ran with it, stealing from the different designer’s vast sense of knowledge and with their help created many things I was proud of.
I am proud to say that I was and still am an evolved copycat. I go to different costuming illustration blogs. I look at different movies, and watch the behind the scenes footage of how the costumes were thought of, illustrated, and then created and it no longer stirs up thought of envy within me. With all the information and media out into the world I know that there is always a cooler, more interesting way of doing something, so why shouldn’t I apply it to my own creations just because I didn’t think of it first? To deny myself of those techniques and skills would only do a disservice to me as an artist. I know that I can take what I see, something that is innovative and exciting, and that I would have never thought of myself. I can take these techniques, cultivate them and apply them to my creative ideas and develop them into my own personal style.
