I Don't Have an Artistic Style

When I think of my favorite artists, each one seems to have a distinctive style. I can look at a sketch, drawing, or painting, and almost immediately identify the artist who created it. I often get temporarily obsessed with a certain artist and try to mimic that style in my own creations.

Take James Richards, for example, a sketch artist who draws vibrant, energetic scenes from his world travels that really capture the feel of a place. I took one of his online classes years ago, and for a few days, tried to draw in a similar style, but my lines weren’t as lively and my colors weren’t as vibrant.

Or there’s Nishant Jain, an artist here on Substack whose work I’ve recently come to admire. He sketches real-life places populated by “tiny people”. I love his clean lines and deceptively simple creations that ignore distractions, honing in on the essence of a scene. I took a pass at Nishant’s style, too, but my lines were messier and I had trouble tossing out the non-essentials.

I could add other artists to this list. There’s Mike Lowery (shout out to another Atlanta Mike), an illustrator who draws in a simple, cartoonish style, with hilarious results. Or there’s Kevin Zych, an artist who uses continuous, gestural lines to document action-filled events like Chinese New Year parades and skateboard tournaments.

Sometimes, in my artistic imitations, I feel like a kid who’s come home from school, trying out new slang like “that’s cap” or “that’s fire” or calling my parents “bro”. If you have teenagers, you’ll be familiar with this slang.

Unfortunately, I’m not a kid anymore. Maybe that’s the lesson, though: in artistic endeavors, be like a kid. Not an obnoxious middle-schooler, though. Nobody likes middle-schoolers. Maybe more like an endearing three-year-old — stumbling around, making messes, full of zest for life. Hmm … three-year-olds have a lot in common with happy drunks.

The point is, I think it’s good to try on different artistic styles. Today, I might move from bold fountain pen lines to finer ballpoint detail. Tomorrow, I might go from a haphazard sketchbook spread to an orderly grid. Some days, I might feel the call of straight, simple lines. Other days, my sketches might be rambling and messy. I can do whatever I want! There, now I even sound like a three-year-old.

Maybe my style is whatever I want it to be in the moment. Or maybe it’s an ever-evolving, constantly receding destination. I’m sure if I looked at the body of work of artists I admire, their style hasn’t stayed fixed over the years.

One thing I do know is that I’m loving the journey of figuring it out, trying out different techniques, keeping what works for me, and leaving behind what doesn’t.

So stay tuned. My style is a work in progress. Like three-year-olds and happy drunks, or three-year-old happy drunks (a sad sight indeed), I can do what I want!