My mother is an insanely talented artist and calligrapher and I'm pretty sure she supplied me with my first pencil and paper, so she should probably get the majority of the credit for this one. I've honestly been drawing for as long as I can remember though, so it's not the easiest thing in the world for me to pin-point. Only within the past few years have I really found a niche for myself as an illustrator. I was floating by as a "graphic designer that can illustrate" for years, but lately I've really embraced illustration as a profession and wouldn't want to do anything else.

My style is based deeply in Americana and New York-based heritage. A lot of what I create draws from the styles of the late 1800s and early 1900s burgeoning American cities, New York specifically. I really try to keep that sense of nostalgia in all my work, even if it's for something completely modern. I've found that I'm able to express a lot more emotion in my work if I try to channel the motivations of some of those earlier graphic artists who operated in the same place I do, only a hundred years earlier. It just feels a bit more meaningful that way.

Actually, the methods I've developed for my process are what have helped shape my style. When I figure out the theme that I'm going for, I'll typically draw tons of elements that relate to whatever I'm drawing. For the most part, all of my work contains an excess of lettering, so I'll design those pieces in several different styles to give myself some room to move in the final execution. Once I finish drawing out all the pieces, I scan them in and start playing with the layout concepts — moving pieces around, enlarging, shrinking, rotating, and so on until I arrive at the place I'm happy with. Initially everything's done in black and white so it's as iconic and graphic as possible, and once I'm satisfied with the piece in terms of shape and layout, I'll move into colour and background. You could say I illustrate like a logo designer. The whole process is fairly loose so I can maintain a sense of human touch.

From top to bottom: Pencil, pen/marker, kneaded eraser, mechanical eraser, scanner, Photoshop, and Illustrator.

This is actually a topic I've been discussing a lot recently. I've found that being a professional illustrator doesn't really allow for creative block and I just have to struggle through it and make shit happen. If I don't have any ideas, then I don't have any food or a place to sleep, so I've learned how to consistently find inspiration and draw off the productivity of others.

Blogs, Twitter, and Instagram are all nice to look at, but to be perfectly honest, none of that ever helps. The real inspiration comes when I look outside of that whole visual realm — furniture, nature, music, textbooks — all sorts of weird eclectic stuff helps get me back on track and usually gives me enough gas to get back into the groove. When all else fails, I go to my wife, because she is a never-ending well of creativity and a lot better at brainstorming than I could ever be.

There's really no particular goal I have in mind. Seeing into the future is tough, especially nowadays, but when I'm an old man all I really want is a big, old studio filled with books and cool furniture, a big cabinet filled with markers and pens, and a little beat up desk with a hundred year old lamp where I sit and draw. That sounds pretty good to me.

DEATH METAL.

Do not give up, no matter who says you suck or who you think is more talented. None of that matters. At some point, most of that intimidating stuff goes away — it's like growing up all over again.