last updated 4.24.2026
I've been an artist for my entire life. I can point to a specific time back in 2011 when I decided I'd be an artist---I'd locked myself in the basement to draw anime wolves for hours on end---but I can point to times even before that where I already was an 'artist'. When I drew a bookmark for the library bookmark-making competition in elementary school, or drew wolf fusions with a friend in my fourth grade math class. Hell, the playground saw me etching out those "how2draw" step-by-steps on printer paper during recess.
Much like babies, we learn how to be artists from the artists that came before us. Growing up in the modern age of the Internet, most of us have learned everything we've ever known from other artists across the web. We take from them; their tutorials, their characters, their colors, their styles. We chew it all up into one big wad of pixelated gunk and swallow it for ourselves.
That is the nature of art; to create is to steal, and art is better off that way. That's what inspiration is. We strive to be better, because artists we admire give us a destination. A far-away castle to soldier on towards, may we reap the riches of true mastery inside.
For many, art is simply a form of self-expression and fun, not communication across people. And that is perfectly acceptable. I believe, however, that there has been a miscommunication between "for fun" artists and "for mastery" artists; "for mastery" does not always(or even usually) mean getting good enough at art to get a job. For artists that strive towards mastery, art is about reaching your human potential. Seeing just how far you can make it before you die.
Mastery isn't just pure realistic skill. It's about figuring out how to communicate your message as unencumbered as possible from your heart to another's. In this way, "improvement" isn't just about still lifes and figure drawings. That doesn't make it easier; becoming a master of art is even harder than if all it required were a few years of atelier studies.
I think that's why for just as long as I've been an artist, I've been fascinated with other artists. Not just their current work, but all the work that precedes them. It's not just their understanding of how to draw hands that improves; you can see their message morph and take shape over years. When you first begin to understand that art mastery comes from a desire to communicate, you are filled with an emotion very big. And you understand, truly, that you can do it, too---because you, too, have something to say. Or you want to find out what that is.
It is simply logical that all artists start from nothing. But it's not something you really believe until you see it. But once you do, you also see just how high you can climb. You see art as not just a journey of craft, but a journey of soul, too. No one is born with something important to say.
We take from the world as artists. Like newborns, we cry about the work it takes to make our first steps into the world of creation. When our fellow artists take our hands and swing us forward with their own dedication, we find the strength for ourselves to get to our hands and knees, and one day, to our feet. So that we can walk, as artists.
Your old art isn't embarrassing, any more than pictures of you crawling is. It's an authentic record of how you became the artist you are today. By sharing it, you give others one route of many on the map to the castle of mastery, so that they may find their own way, and perhaps avoid some of your pitfalls from years ago.
My old art archive is my way of taking your hand and swinging you forward. I want to help you walk, so that one day you can run. And when you figure that out, I hope you'll take someone else's hand, too.
That is why I am publishing every single sketchbook I have since I first learned how to draw over the past decade. My sketchbook isn't just terrible old art; its ephemera from the life of a budding artist. And while I don't recommend for others to follow my path exactly, I want to show you what it looks like.
If you care about more artists than just me(oh, you!), you'll like my art archaeology zine project.
If you're an artist digitizing your ephemera, join my "Art Improvement Archive" webring. [ art archeology... ]