✸ Lesson #3: Sometimes the Dream Needs to Die

This post is part of a new series where I reflect on my ten-year journey as a professional illustrator. I’m deep diving each year, one hard-earned lesson at a time. So, whether you're just starting out or feeling stuck on your own path, I hope this series helps you feel less alone in the messy hullabaloo of trying to figure it all out.

If you missed Lesson #1, you can read it here. Or watch the full video on YouTube!

Lesson #3: Sometimes the Dream Needs to Die

HELLO FRIENDS! I’m busy with deadlines, so this one took a while to drum up, but we’re back with another lesson from my art journey about sunk cost, self-doubt, and letting go. This one has a fun upbeat title lol, enjoy!

SO! 2017 was supposed to be the year I turned things around.

After leaving my first animation studio job in 2016 (a decision that came about because of my awful panic attacks) and having a little break, I was determined to get back in the game and recommit to the dream. I had attended the CTN animation convention for the first time and gotten a bunch of business cards from studios and a wonderful response, and felt inspired to take action.

Ever since I watched Tangled in cinemas in 2010, I had imagined myself working in animation, and I believed that if I just worked hard enough, the industry would eventually let me in.

And that’s what I tried to do! I spent the early part of the year updating my portfolio and building a bunch of new visual development pieces.

I cold-emailed recruiters, followed up with connections I had made at CTN, and applied to every job that came my way.

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Through that networking, I started to get freelance character design gigs for studios like Netflix, Disney Junior, and PBS. It wasn’t a full-time gig, but it was still an incredible chance for me to contribute to to my dream studios and get noticed by their teams.

It felt like I was making progress, and in many ways, I was. But I still wasn’t getting hired for full-time work, and was getting a little frustrated.

I did get a couple of art tests, even one for The Owl House, but they never went anywhere.

Around this time, I was contacted by Nickelodeon to do some freelance design on the new Blue’s Clues reboot. An absolute DREAM PROJECT! My first crush was Steve, for cry out loud! It felt like this could finally be the breakthrough I had been waiting for.

Buuut… when we were getting into the contracts, they realized I was Canadian and without a work visa, they rescinded the offer.

I was crushed!!! :(

And this wasn’t the first time I had gotten close only to be turned away because of things I couldn’t control. This felt like my college years all over again, when I couldn’t apply to studio internships because of visa issues.

It didn’t feel fair to me, and I started to play the blame game.

✸ I blamed the industry, for not making allowances for international artists.

✸ I blamed studio politics, for hiring artists internally, or from specific art schools.

What made it harder was watching so many of my friends succeed. These were artists I admired, who I had come up with and supported each other as we entered the work force. And now, one by one, they were getting hired at the studios I dreamed of, moving to LA, working on shows I wanted to be part of.

I was so happy for them, but I couldn’t help but feel jealous every time I saw someone announce their new gig on Twitter. Don’t get me started on that period when everyone was posting their illustrated Netflix ‘N’ lol.

And I felt awful for feeling jealous and having these bad emotions, like I was the worst friend in the world. It wasn’t just that I wanted what they had, it was that I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting it too. I thought I was doing everything right; I was getting a lot of praise and hopeful encouragement from art directors and recruiters. So why wasn’t it working?

Hint: It was because my artwork was more suited to illustration, not animation, but that’s a topic for next time.

I would tell myself it was because I lived in Canada. Or because I hadn’t gone to CalArts. Or because I didn’t have the right visa.

But instead of blaming everyone else, maybe the problem wasn’t the industry, but that I was still chasing something that didn’t make sense for me anymore.

Yes, I wanted this dream more than anything at the time, but did I want to work 9-5? Did I want to work in an animation production pipeline? Did I want to work in team environment, in a style that was not my own? Or did I want the freedom to run my own business; where clients would seek me out for my specific creative vision?

There were a lot of aspects of freelance illustration that were better suited for my art style and working preferences, but I couldn’t grasp this yet.

The funny thing was, while animation continued to shut me out, my illustration career continued to grow.

In 2017 alone:

✸ I illustrated The Daring Dreamer Girls for Disney Publishing, wrapped up the sequel to Bug Girl,

✸ Illustrated Kid Scientists, a nonfiction book that paid more than any of my previous projects. That book ended up doing incredibly well and continues to bring in royalties to this day.

✸ I also got the chance to draw short comics for Over the Garden Wall and Adventure Time.

✸ I participated in multiple group gallery shows with Light Grey Art Lab and Q Pop.

✸ In the middle of my grand depression, my friend Vicky Tsai and I started a podcast together, called The Art Corner. I was unemployed and sad, and spent all day playing Overwatch and yapping with her. Out ramblings turned into a podcast, where we wanted to vent about our lives as an artist and give helpful advice (which would later evolve into my Youtube channel and my love for art education).

But I still considered all this as a side gig. If anything, I was lowkey embarrassed by my illustration work because it just seemed like another reminder that I couldn’t find any actual full time studio work. At this point in my life, I didn’t know any freelancers or illustrators. All my friends were in the animation industry, so that was the ideal (I thought) I had to live to. And so, I chugged away at building another visdev portfolio to share with recruiters.

In November, I flew back out to Los Angeles for CTN for the second year in a row. And again, I got a lot of positive feedback and encouraging ‘you’ll find a job in no time’ remarks. But nothing concrete.

Looking back, I know that I had fallen into the trap of sunk cost. I had spent so many years building toward a career in animation that the idea of walking away from it felt like giving up. I didn’t want to be seen as someone who quit and couldn’t make it.

I didn’t want to be seen as an embarrassing failure.

So I didn’t quit, and I just kept pushing, even if it didn’t make sense for my lifestyle and interests!

I told myself that my illustration work was temporary, because it was just something I was doing until the real dream came true.

At the end of the year, I left my illustration agency. Beyond the fact that relationship had run its course and they weren’t a good fit for me, I felt like my illustration work was distracting me and I needed to refocus my efforts on animation.

This was the year I refused to ask myself a very difficult question:
What if the dream you’ve been chasing isn’t the right one anymore?

It’s so easy to fall into the mindset of “I’ve come this far, I can’t stop now.”

But that’s not a good reason to keep going; You’re allowed to change your dreams. The beginning of your journey doesn’t have to define where you go next; we are brimming with potential and we don’t need to fixate on rigid plans. Especially if they don’t make sense for you anymore, (I talk more on this next time).

If something isn’t working, it’s not always the world’s fault. Sometimes you need to take a long, honest look inward. Ask whether you’re clinging to something that no longer serves you, just because it’s familiar or because you’re afraid of starting over.

I know it’s scary, and you feel like you’re ‘giving up.’ But I think a better word might be evolving. Our lives are long, and no artists career path is identical to another’s.

At the end of 2017, I didn’t have the answers yet, and was still clinging to my dreams.

But all that would change in just a few months. I hope you’ll tune into the next ‘episode’, where I talk about how I got out of this crisis in Lesson #4 – When One Door Closes, Don’t Just Stand There

If you’re feeling stuck in your own creative path, I hope this story helps!

Have you ever gone through an art crisis like this? How did you evolve away from it?

If you want help talking through your own process, I now offer 1:1 consulting for artists trying to navigate exactly these kinds of crossroads. You can find more info here!

You can also watch my full career story in this video:

ANYWAY! THANKS FOR READING BYE

<3