Hi again! Yes, I’m still here.
Incredibly, January is already over. We are in a new year, and even in a new month. I’ve been thinking about this newsletter for weeks, but my sense of time and space always ends up failing me.
I want to be 100% honest and share what I’ve been experiencing this past month.
A few weeks ago, I did a small financial review of my 2025. The good news is that I can say it was much better than 2024 (yay). But at the same time, I had some unexpected expenses. Thanks to the fact that I did well, I was able to pay them, but it was very hard for me to adjust. I’ve been working as a freelancer for more than 10 years, and I still struggle with financial organization. Long story short: this month was financially challenging.
On the other hand, it was incredibly productive. I’m working on many projects (maybe more than I should — red flag), but I know this will pay off and help me stabilize myself… or at least I hope so.
On top of that, this winter has been especially cold, which means that for almost a month now I’ve been basically stuck at home working. I only go out on Sundays to play padel (yes, I fell into that too).
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy. There is something about that quiet home feeling, doing what I love, being warm, that gives me a lot of peace. But once again, time flies.
Here comes one of my most painful struggles, and one I still haven’t been able to solve. I can’t find a balance between work/personal practice, and social life. When I enter these full-immersion phases in my art (which are very fruitful), I can’t mix them with social events. And if I do, getting back into my work routine is incredibly hard. It’s honestly very difficult for me. I know it’s not healthy, and besides talking about it in therapy, I really want to know your opinions and experiences.
Happier news: I started the Advanced Level course at Ars in Fabula! Last year I took the Entry Level course, which brought me so much joy, and if you’re interested, I shared several posts about that experience. I hope I can do the same this year. For now, I’m a bit in crisis with the project, but nothing that isn’t part of the normal process.
Open the Sketchbook, Open the Door
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June 9, 2025
This is the second part of my newsletter series about my journey through this illustration course: the entry-level course I’m currently doing at Ars in Fabula.
Lastly, something I wanted to share with you. During this month of work and introspection, I managed to organize myself enough to make time for personal practice. I also joined the Secret Sketchbook workshop by Elizabeth Haidle. I absolutely loved it. Surprisingly, a couple of prompts really hit something deep inside me.
I don’t want to make this too long, but I do want to share something that felt like a revelation (it’s probably obvious, but one thing is knowing it in theory, and another is experiencing it and having it stay with you).
I have a personal issue with sketchbooks. For some reason (something I should probably explore with my therapist) everything that has a physical presence, weight, something you can touch and even collect, like a notebook, has a very strong value for me. Because of that, carefree practice becomes very difficult. I get frustrated very quickly.
All this introduction is to say that I was working on the first assignment, and of course, I reached that moment where things were going well, something promising was happening, and suddenly the magic ended and I ruined it. Frustration.
And a few minutes later, thankfully, a light turned on in my head. And I don’t mean the classic “it doesn’t matter, no one will see it, it’s just practice.” Because I will see it, and it bothers me.
My saving thought was:
Exactly. You are absolutely allowed to do that. If what I want is to open my sketchbook and see pages that give me satisfaction, then that’s what I should aim for. Not stopping until I get there. I hate the idea that you’re a good artist only if you get it right on the first try.
So I continued the whole workshop trying to keep that mindset. And I discovered that the moments where I learned the most, and even enjoyed the most, were when I was fixing or improving the parts I didn’t like.
Anyway, I hope my small, not-so-exciting daily adventures were entertaining for you.
We’ll read each other soon. Thank you for being here.
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