Practice & Research - Exercise 10.1: Reflect on the Unit

When I first looked at the Practice and Research unit, my first takeaway focused on some sort of fundamental reshaping of my approach to illustration, moving me away from rigid expectations toward a more authentic, and fluid illustrator's voice. However, if I look back further to my previous units, I can start to see a cyclical pattern of setting myself tight expectations followed by an aspect of 'unlocking' an aspect of my practice.

My personal circumstances have threatened to throw my entire course of studies off course over the period of the unit. It has taken a massive toll on my wellbeing and mental health at times. I would have thought that periods of unemployment would have given me more time for my illustration studies, but the stress and near-desperation of finding a role to fulfill my obligations as a husband and father has had a way of monopolising my time and energy. Now, with a new career ahead of me (while continuing my road to a parallel career as an illustrator), navigating the demands of my studies while concurrently beginning in-school teacher training will require a massive shift in how I manage my creative stamina.

The upside of my job-hunting pressure, however, ultimately forced me to prioritise genuine engagement over perfectionism. By embracing a sense of self-directed play and leveraging my existing interests in tabletop role-playing games, I discovered that establishing a flexible framework yields far more compelling work than strictly adhering to (self-imposed) conventional boundaries.

The next evolution of my creative process

Early in the unit, I struggled with the transition from legacy course structures, frequently questioning whether my output was "enough". My initial process was overly tight, constrained by a need to solve specific problems perfectly. The turning point was deliberately breaking this pattern through chaotic draw-alongs and gestural drawing, which successfully freed up my anxiety and allowed me to "embrace the line".  

Locking into the "campaign frame" format of the game Daggerheart (building worlds with intentional gaps that invite the audience to step in and use their imagination) was the key to giving me a sense of professional direction as well as a source of focus and motivation. This was an incredibly important resource when my wellbeing was at its lowest. Designing the Mostly Harmless Adventures project and then road-testing it with a public group provided me with vital external momentum, feedback and a sense of connection.

When looking back over my work and learning logs to compose this reflection, I was looking for some kind of analogy or metaphor as a working skeleton that might describe the emergent approach to my practice. I looked to how my cyclical research and implementation led me to the idea of "palimpsest" - the ancient technique of scraping away the surface of vellum so that it can be used again. I imagined that, as part of this original recycling technique, something of the old work would remain underneath. It felt similar to how my approach evolved over the unit - the layers of worn textures, limited palettes, and a zine-like elements built up over time. It didn't just take away some of the fear of the blank page, it feels like it represents the intuitive and emergent approach that runs as a thread through the unit.

I fell into the trap again of trying to apply rigid, problem-solving structures to the rigid self-imposed expectations I set. Early stages were defined by an anxiety to produce "perfect" work and a reliance on reverse-engineering the technical compositions of other practitioners to understand their techniques. Eventually, it was somewhat of a relief to embrace fluidity, play, and imperfection. I still think that I need to do a lot of work on that aspect of my practice, but hopefully now it will come more easily to me: Breaking the perfectionist anxiety through 'chaotic draw-alongs' and unstructured play became a crucial turning point for me, allowing the process to become less about forcing a particular aesthetic and more about personal expression.  

The introduction of the tabletop role-playing game framework provided the exact type of loose structure I needed. Creating the "Mostly Harmless Adventures" campaign frame offered me a space to design something that I wanted to put out into the world, and was genuinely enjoyable on multiple levels. It was reassuring when my tutorial feedback reinforced my approach, and gave me the confidence I needed to continue and move away from trying to solely meet (what I considered to be) the academic expectations. The campaign frame format also gave me the opportunity to focus on a project that tighter constraints, and avoided me trying to do something too ambitious too soon.

Embracing sketchiness as personal growth

I have noticed that it was the little exercises to engage my core skills (like gestural warm-ups and unstructured play) generated far more vitality and engagement than rigid approach to execution. Reading back, it's when I noted that worked could be "finished in its own context" that I allowed myself to start letting go of perfectionism. I thought that by following the recommendations of others to do 'master studies' to try and master multiple external personas or mimic other styles, I would get to where I thought I wanted to be (or perhaps, where I thought I needed to be to be considered in the industry). When I gave myself permission to be more intuitive, I started to iterate more rapidly, and I can see that's when a particular aesthetic started to emerge from my work.

The campaign frame doesn't want to give every detail of a world, and it invites the players to co-create the details for their own games. I see this as the inpiration to how I see the evolution of the world progressing: I have created the space for me to explore the world in my own way through storytelling. It's through stories that the details of the world can be decided. In the meantime, that gives me space to explore the details of the world, but also the details of rendering - going deeper into the visual polyphony that I have explored in my creative review.

One of the things that has improved considerably over the last year has been my personal and professional resilience. I think if I had been faced with the challenges of the last year in earlier stages of my studies I wouldn't have gotten through it. There have been moments, even still, where I thought that my hard work and ambitions were for nought. Looking back on the Mostly Harmless Adventures project, I feel a sense of pride that I managed to balance the massive undertaking of writing, illustrating, and designing a complete publication while navigating major life transitions. It's rare that I notice my wins (I have a predisposition to focus on the aspects I see as failures), so I think it's important to acknowledge to myself that I have demonstrated a great deal of creative stamina. I think that resilience is reflected in my transition from seeking external validation towards taking ownership of my creative direction.

Successful Strategies

I've noted a few key strategies which I believe represent some of the core aspects of my emerging practice:

Layered Textures

Incorporating analogue with the digital has been very successful. Overlaying aspects of my work with images, zine filters, and organic textures has worked well to create a wry, punky scrapbooked aesthetic. I still think that there is more to explore with my line work - particularly aspects of ink and watercolour to embrace the sketchiness without getting preoccupied with pencil sketches.

Design Systems

I managed to establish a clear visual hierarchy by emulating specific design languages, such as adopting the aesthetic of an HR manual complete with things like labels, post-it notes and scribbled notes, provided a robust ruleset to justify quirky stylistic choices. Looking more into the graphic design side of things will be a useful area for me to pursue to develop these skills further, so that I might in the future be able to achieve the varied and interesting book designs I researched in the unit.

'Unfinished' isn't the same as bad

I started to strike a balance with the spot illustrations. The sketchy, "unfinished" illustrations often proved more effective than heavily rendered pieces, capturing an energy and ambiguity that highly polished work can sometimes lose.

Validated Learning

Road-testing the material with a public group validated the humor and fluid style. I think that this gave me the confidence to let go of the pressure to adopt multiple "personas" or mimic other styles, and build my own, distinct, graphic voice.  

The development of research and critical skills

My research evolved from broad exploration to highly targeted investigations that tried to actively problem-solve stylistic challenges. When I started to explore my first setting, I was able to investigate real-world map lore, (and incorporate recommendations from my tutor like the Mappa Mundi and the mythical island of Hy Brasil), which informed the decision to include monsters and incidental illustrations in the margins of the Rivenhall map. This aspect of my research suggested that a level of ambiguity is essential for an engaging map. I was able to continue and develop my research approach throughout the unit in a similar way - delving deeper into each topic that took my interest, and then blending that with my own practice and tutorial feedback. This finally led to my Critical Review, which I am confident has further sharpened my critical skills by demanding an acute, well-researched understanding of sequential illustration and how "visual polyphony" communicates complex realities and narratives.  

My individual relationship between practice and research

Eventually, the approach that best served me was the one where the boundary between practice and research is no longer distinct; the best results came when there was a tight iterative loop where research and practice almost happen concurrently. Instead of treating my research as a preliminary phase, it works best when it's a constant, ongoing dialogue that informs my practical decisions.

Areas for Refinement

Ahead of the submission window for assessment, there are still some areas which I feel need to be refined:

• Final checks to the Critical Review: I am confident that my review is well-researched. I do still worry about the word count despite my tutor insisting it's acceptable to be where it is. I have delved into some complex concepts, and I wonder if some of them might need to be made more explicit or clear for the reader, ensuring nothing is left to assumption.  

  
  

• My anxiety over quantity: A recurring challenge has been a disconnect in my expectations, leading to worries about whether the output is "enough". While I know that I need to trust my tutor that the work I have done is more than sufficient, I still think that refining cover and illustrations of my book is warranted. The upside of revisiting that before assessment is that I have the benefit of all my reflections, and I think the final refinements will make the illustrations more cohesive as a whole.