One of the central truisms of being an artist is this:

You will have to do many drafts of your work.

It’s unavoidable. There is this myth among artists about how the masters of the craft were gifted from the beginning — that they went into their studios and produced works of greatness in a matter of hours. This is exacerbated by videos like this one, where it’s possible to watch a master like John Romita Sr. as he quickly busts out perfect drawings of Spider-man with a felt tip marker. Amazing, right? And deservedly so! John Romita Sr. has created comics since 1949 and has been drawing Spider-man since 1966. He’s had a lifetime of practice in order to reach a place where he can draw something amazing with minimal revisions.

About fifteen years ago, when I was really starting to commit to a life in the arts and illustration, you could have opened my sketchbooks and seen lots of drawings with a big “X” through them. Why did I do this? They weren’t perfect! I demanded perfection. When reading my Spawn and Spider-man comics I knew that my art needed to be like in those comics and anything short of that was not cutting it. I had a ruthless inner critic (still do to some extent) but in order to move forward I had to learn to listen to it less.

In 2008, I started working at a high school called High Tech High Chula Vista. It was the first time in my life I had been in a project-based learning environment. Sure, I had done projects in my Graphic Design & Art Education majors, but I had never been in a situations where all the students in school had to take art and were charged with creating amazing things. At first I was not good at working in a project-based learning environment because I made a critical error in my understanding of how I progressed in my own art. I thought the reason I improved my drawing capabilities had to do with the fact I had that harsh inner critic. For the first year that critic came out in me as a teacher. Quickly, students started to resent me and their projects which I oversaw wouldn’t be completed in time.

Then I met Ron Berger and saw this presentation about the role of drafting work and the role of critique in relationship to the drafting process:

My eyes widened and I realized the critical mistake I had made. I did not get better at illustration because of my harsh inner critic. In fact, that harsh inner critic had more to do with taste. The reason I got better at my own illustrations had more to do with the fact that I kept trying. Every time I started a new illustration I was practicing. I never considered that if I had had more feedback from others on each of my drafts of my work, I could have accomplished my goals even faster than I had previously thought.

I never thought that all of those drawings with X’s in them were just initial drafts of work leading to the work I am doing now. It is hard to remember even now that all of my art is just current drafts leading to the work I will be doing in the future. This means that you artwork is a record of your journey as an artist, and you are best served by understanding that the work you do at a given time is part of that journey (a.k.a learning opportunities).

I know, I know. You don’t want your artwork to be just a learning opportunity. You want it to wow audiences and bring them into the world that you have created. Guess what though? You have little control over how an audience experiences your work. By the time you present your work to them you can only see their reactions, so these reactions must serve as a learning opportunity.

We artists are people who tend to get invested in our work — in fact we are likely to spend way more time creating work than presenting it to audiences. In my experience, the best way to enjoy making art is to find a way to relax and view each “failed” effort as part of an ongoing process. I have to constantly remind myself “Patrick, if you want to become a master comic artist, you are going to have to keep drafting work.”