1. Tutorials are shit.
Someone can tell you how to draw a thing in particular and you can try to draw it exactly like they did and you might succeed. What comes out at the other end is in no way discredited, I suppose.
More to the point, you don’t need them. Tutorials are whatever. Classes are better. You take the discipline and the practice of art and drawing and you apply it to a whole range of shit.
But in the end you’re not going to get anywhere without getting up to your elbows in it and making a metric fuckton of bad. Go on with your bad self and make a lot of bad art. Show it to people. Make them suffer with you.
2. You decide what is a success and what is a fail.
This one is a hard one to come to terms with. Once you start loving your art it really takes off as a serious pro vs. con. In the end someone can tell you that your mushroom looks like a very smol penis and you can either embrace the fact or tell them that they look like they have a very smol penis, because you’re the artist and you love that mushroom either way.
3. I don’t buy coloring books. I make them, bitch.
This one is… pretty self-explanatory.
4. Finding purpose in art is kind of like a drug, but not a bad one.
On the long list of my unhealthy obsessions, art is a 0/10 on the bad for my health scale. Maybe a bit higher on the detriment to my social life scale, but that thing was in the shitter from the time I was in middle school.
5. Self-artfidence transfers into self-confidence.
One day, maybe not today, you will find yourself at a social gathering that you have close to zero interest in. One that previously you may have avoided all together or spent standing in a corner making awkward memories that will haunt you for weeks in the shower. Instead you will fall back on your ArtfidenceTM and you will draw something in that corner that you will remember instead of all the horrible awkward moments that happened anyway.
Okay, that was a bad example. Talk to people. It’s healthy. I don’t.
That said, there will come a time when you will show people your art and they’ll be like, ‘Hey, that’s pretty cool.’ You will in turn realize that YOU are pretty cool. Art is like a 10 step program to not hating yourself. First step, draw a lot of not-quite circles.
6. No one tells you when you’re done.
Take soap-making for example. You get to the end of the process and you have a bar of soap and you hate it. Sure you could melt it down and start over, or start over with different ingredients, but in essence, you’re done. You did the thing. Congratulations!
With art there are no checkboxes. Oh, you’re done with the linework? Add color. Oh, you hate the linework? Thought you might. Do it again. Do it better. You hate the whole fucking thing? Same page, same file, eraser that shit. No one has to know. Hell, paint over it and start with a bright red background. It was a design choice. Overpainting like Vincent FUCKING Van Gogh. YOU’RE AN ARTIST.
7. Life is shit and then you die.
I’m sorry, this is getting dark fast. Strap in.
What will I have when I die? Probably the same nothing I started with, but with a whole-ass library of shit that I made. I did that. Better hang that very smol penis mushroom next to my casket for everyone to see. WITNESS THE SMOL PENIS FOR I HAVE BIRTHED IT.
It’s 2am. You’re welcome.