Pitching on illustration jobs. Also VOTE.

A few weeks ago I was asked to pitch on an illustration job for none other than Randi Zuckerberg and Natasha Lewin. Pitching on a job can be tricky; it's something that should be approached with consideration.

Trusting the (potential) client is key; often an artist will be asked to pitch on a job just to plump out the choice, so you should have a sense that the client truly likes your work, and is giving you a fair shot. I measure the amount of energy and time I'm willing to invest, against how much free time I actually have. Can I produce something impressive enough in a short amount of time? Above all, does the concept inspire me? In this case, it did.

I guess I spent about a half day on these drawings - their concept was nice and tight, and the briefing was very clear, very professional. I can't tell you anything about the actual job, except to say that I didn't get it. I do retain the rights to my drawings though, so here they are: some cute character poses for my portfolio.

That's all for now folks.

Ps. Always remember: your vote is your voice!

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Super hero portraits.

Here's some recent commissions, drawing real people as superheroes. Most of the work is in studying photos of the person and getting a feel for who they are.

Turning public speaker Anna Apoian into a super hero.

The 15 year old Trend-Blazer - her superpower is trendsetting in fashion and makeup.

The 11 year old Tree-Rider - her superpower is jungle parkour.

The 2 year old Key- Surfer - her superpower is piano mastery.

I enjoyed drawing these. My rates are here.

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The Montreal Formula - Artist Survival

I did some live-cartooning over at the POP Montreal Symposium yesterday: one of my tweeps, @ItsLilpeanut told me this is called a "sketchnote".

The topic was "The Montreal Formula: How to survive as an artist in Montreal". Co-hosted by ELAN Quebec and POP Montreal, Albert Nerenberg (The Laughologist) moderated seamlessly, with Murray Lightburn (solo artist and The Dears frontman), Krista Muir (aka Lederhosen Lucil) and myself.

A step beyond toonswag, my drawing was projected in real-time from my iPad to a screen for the audience to watch during the session. One becomes a conduit for ideas and pictures, some of which end up in the image. When it was over, I felt strangely buoyant.

Just another artist surviving in Montreal.

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The Systemic Disrespect of the Artist

Every couple of months someone gets the gumption up to ask me if I'll illustrate their book. Assuming their book theme interests me, I always ask the same questions:

1. Is this a paid gig? ("No...but I thought we could be partners.")
2. Do you have an agent or interested publisher? ("No, but I know lots of people!")
3. How many drawings are we talking about here? ("Uh...what.")

I'd love to illustrate all of them, but I've had to prioritize putting food on the table. Then about a year ago I was approached by someone I considered a social-media friend. In order to protect their identity, I've depicted them as a gender-neutral Alien.

The Alien in question is fairly well known on the Internet. Widely followed and trusted in their niche. Respected. A solid reputation earned over many years of web presence. And also quite like-able.

Collaboration's gotta be a good fit from every angle, ya know?

I weighed the offer: I'd worked with the Alien on smaller projects and it had gone well, the book project inspired me, and it was viable...so I decided to make time for it.

We made a plan: I would do three illustrations for a book proposal that we could shop around. There was already an interested publisher from my side. It was exciting!

We moved forward with mutual trust, respect, and enthusiasm. I began to draw.

The Alien gave positive feedback on the first illustration.

And on the second illustration. Two down, one to go! It was going well. 

Then I sent the third illustration...

...there were some issues with it.

The Alien scrapped it and suggested I try another.

It's crucial to be able to clearly explain to an artist why something's not working. It's equally important to be able to accept criticism constructively and apply improvements for the good of the project. You can't be precious about your ideas.

So I went back to the old drawing board.

A fourth illustration was sent.

And the Alien said...nothing.

No response. It was like they'd vanished into thin air. Either that, or I was suddenly invisible.

I waited, thinking perhaps the email had got lost, or that the Alien was away on a trip. I made allowances. After a few months, I reached out again.

And I heard...nothing.

I worried, maybe they're ill? I thought of contacting the family. But a quick check of the Alien's social media accounts revealed they were alive and well and communicating with the world as usual.

I'm a big girl. I've been working commercially for over thirty years. I'm used to making changes and adjustments in response to client comments. Big clients, like Coca-Cola and Nestlé, with big agencies. I've collaborated on TV series for international co-productions with international broadcasters. It's a point of pride for me to be able to either defend my vision or adjust it creatively to meet revisions.

I've rarely encountered a client or collaborator who's preferred to cut all communication rather than either do the work, or end the partnership. People do change their minds; it's possible that I wasn't a good fit for the Alien's book, after all.

But all I heard was nothing. Which was disappointing and shitty.

A whole year passed, during which time I put this behind me. Then a few weeks ago I was at an event where the Alien surprised me by marching right up to greet me.

The first thing that came out of the Alien's mouth was not an apology. It was BLAME.

What would you say? I found myself slipping into, "yeah, I am really busy..." But I had made the commitment to the Alien's book project and had given it my time and energy. I decided to force the issue.

And then came the apology. I couldn't interpret actual sincerity in the moment, but I've given the Alien the benefit of the doubt for this drawing....

...but not for this one. Because I don't believe it. To blame me for their cowardly behaviour was galling.

My intention here, is not to "out" the Alien. I don't wish to shame anyone, or get revenge. Rather, I want to shed light on what I consider to be at the heart of the systemic abuse of artists: a lack of fundamental respect.

Think this story is trivial? To a greater or lesser degree, it's playing out all around us. Ego, cowardice and a lazy work ethic are no excuse.

Paid or unpaid, the Innerwebs have opened a million doors to mistreat writers, musicians and visual artists. There's no shortage of seemingly "nice" people out there, trustworthy, respectful and professional people, who turn around and truly believe it's okay to treat an artist like this.

Well I say, it's NOT okay. So just don't do it.

And if you're an artist? Then you call that shit out.

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9 Ways To Say NO.

Are you tired of being asked expected to work for free? Here are nine ways to say NO.

1. The Demure Negatory. If you throw in a little something shiny, they won't even know what hit them.

2. Shock and Disbelief. Trust me, you won't even need to fake it.

3. Rage. No one will mistake this for a "yes".

4. The Element of Surprise. Catch them off guard with a Cirque move!

5. Run Away Screaming. I tried this last week and it works amazingly well.

6. Over My Dead Body. This one's a little old school, but it's perfect for repeat offenders. Plus you can always throw in the threat of haunting to spice things up.

7. The Jedi Wave. Some folks simply don't get that they should pay for commercial services; they really feel entitled to free drawings and stuff, no matter how you explain it. And they even get kinda mad when you just say no. It's far better to hypnotize them. Help me Obi-Wan Kenobe, you're my only hope.

8. Mirth. Burst out laughing. Especially effective if someone offers to pay you with tweets.

9. If all else fails, Spell It Out. If you view these two drawings in the Lightbox skin, you can animate them and say the word "no" at the same time. TRY IT - just click on the drawing.

I may publish a collection of some of the more absurd emails asking me for free drawings. I'll even pay myself to illustrate it - oh, the irony!

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The YES-a-holic.

This story originally appeared on Aiming Low. Something recently happened to me which prompted me to re-purpose it here, with a different ending...

*     *     *     *     *

Hi. My name is JC…

… and I’m a YES-a-holic.

It’s not always the word “yes”; other words are involved. Like “sure”.

And “Okay”.

And sometimes it’s just, you know, good old-fashioned submissive posture.

I guess my problem is that I’m unable to say “no”.

I want to please. So I try to do it ALL… which inevitably leads to The Overwhelmption.

When you see an angler fish in the room with you, you know you're in too deep.

But once in a while something comes along, that you simply must say "no" to.

What should I say? I can't go to the shop and buy food with tweets. I can't pay my electric bill with tweets. I can't clothe my kids with tweets.

So I did what any red blooded animator would do.

I fell off my chair.

But I still managed to avoid saying "no". I am a true Yes-a-holic.

It happens more often than you'd think - someone just expects an artist to give up their work in exchange for 'exposure'. In some cases, such as causes, I will draw just for love and fun. But greed and bad behaviour is a big turn off, in real life and social media alike.

What is your take on this?

Here are 9 ways to say NO.

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