So it’s been a little while. If you follow me on social media you’ll know that on the 11th August my world turned upside-down with the unexpected loss of my little brother, Steven. He was 26 and full of life and promise. If anyone was going to grab the world by the balls and make a difference, it was him. He was a final year med student, a pilot, an officer with the RAF Cadets. And now he’s gone. That’s mostly why I’ve been absent.
A month later, my teenage son was diagnosed with Autism. We missed it for a long time because he has a profile of autism that means he’s able to hide it pretty well - it’s called PDA (pathological demand avoidance), which means he can mask like Bruce Wayne, but lately, the wheels are falling off. You can see a couple of comics (Ineffective Parents) I made about it on my Instagram.
Around the same time, I realised that my own ‘quirkiness’ is down to ADHD - diagnosis pending, but completely unnecessary because I tick every box - I know I have it. So in addition, I’ve started examining behaviours that I thought were normal, to find that, well, they aren’t. I have a strange relationship with colours and feelings. I didn’t know that I did. It’s a kind of synaesthesia that I never knew wasn’t typical for everyone else. This doesn’t make me sad, but again, it makes me think.
So I’m sure you can imagine this has been a time of some heavy reflection. I’ve also had a huge workload to get through - a 6 book series, comic book, educational science comic book and my next ‘Dear…’ book. Speaking of which, Dear Father Christmas was released this month - I didn’t have the will to promote it, but I’m going to pull my finger out and make an announcement tomorrow. I just need to build up to it.
I’ve been working through my worries and mental state, low demand style. I initially took a couple of weeks off work, but then I needed to get back to it. My clients and Bright, my agent, have been amazing. As the weeks have gone on, music and podcasts take me off to another world which sometimes helps, but at the moment I’m flitting between full on loud hours, and stony silence. I haven’t been outside much (other than for a community art project I’m working on) - I’m just content and safe inside these walls. Right now, I need to feel that. I need to be left inside my own head until I’m ready to come out. That’s not a bad thing, it’s a me thing. I know my limits. I’m in a thoughtful phase - figuring out my next moves. Reflecting. And hula hooping to keep myself moving.
It’s not easy illustrating when everything sucks, it’s difficult to stay motivated. By receding into my work and out of social media demands and social occasions, I can find a place to heal and process how much things have changed in the last few months. That said, having the responsibility of these deadlines is a big part of what’s kept me afloat. I’ve had days where I just want to cry and eat cake (and I have), but I can pull myself out of the mud. The most helpful thing has been staying organised. When I can’t draw or paint, I organise my workload for the next day. I made project tracker sheets that I can pick up at any time and see where I’m up to on everything.
Apologies for the ramble - it’s kind of how my head is working right now - I’m out of sync - but I’m okay. Flitting between robot mode and open sore.
(If you’re illustrating against a backdrop of catastrophes at the moment and need a helping hand to stay on track, give me shout and I’ll share my job tracker sheet with you.)
Such a devastating year for you and your family. It is amazing that you have been able to keep going and achieving so much. It is a testimony to how well your structure your work. If well-structured, work can offer stability and an anchor in turbulent times.
As I say, credit to you to be able to keep going as a freelancer, without the framework of employment, colleagues and the financial safety net it usually offers. It shows a robust work strategy that you can lean on in the hard times.