Studio musicians are impressive to me.  The ability to effortlessly switch from jazz, to country to classical depending on who is recording that day is admirable.  Graphic designers and artists working commercially can really relate.  On any given day, I could be creating bloody key art for horror, and the next day I'm knee deep in hip vibrant Target-esque layouts.  It's easy to lose one's self, and one's identity of who you are as an artist.

A lot of designers/artists have two inner styles, the style they want to be and the style they really are.

It is all to common to overhear one remark "this is me doing DePalma", or "this is me in my Warhol stage".  I think these moments are good to get it out of one's system as long as you don't strive to become that creator.  For example, recently I had to get Saul Bass out of my system.  I was handed a project to create poster art for a small music festival in my hometown.  In a what the hell moment, I went with the classic Bass look (at least my interpretation).  Not once did I try to claim this was me, in fact, I used that common little phrase many like to use:  "yeah, that was me doing Saul Bass".  Of course, in East Texas, the term "doing Saul Bass" can be quite offensive and misconstrued.

Saul Bass' style was never one I wanted to absorb, my emulation of his style was purely an homage to his greatness.  However, when I was 13, I did want to be the French artist Moebius.  I cloned his style perhaps too much in those days, including the clothing he dressed his characters in (which were these tall flat-top hats with chin straps).

At best, I was a poor man's Moebius, and already there were several artists out there cloning his work better than I was.  For the benefit of the world, I eventually outgrew this.

Other artist and designers came and went, but through all this searching, I eventually gave up trying to find myself.  The advertising world can really kill individuality, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  Personally, I enjoy the challenge.  You never get stuck doing one thing on a daily basis.  It allows you dabble in whatever medium that suits your client or project best. A profession that pays you to experiment ain't half bad.

Now I've always been a doodler.  Even to this day in meetings, if I'm not taking notes, then I'm doodling between my bullet points and flow charts.  What I didn't realize that my true style secretly lived within the margins of my note taking.  Its been there since day one.  These "doodles", no matter how rough, was an extension of me in my most rawest form.  They were effortless to produce, unlike many of the other styles I have emulated for other people.

I wasn't illustrating for someone, I was illustrating for me.

So what was my style?  Seeing how I am of the nostalgic sort, I guess it was only fitting that my inner style was the same.  Think of a cross between those "How many licks?" Toosie Roll pop commercials and Shel Silverstein.  It was a lot simpler than I had hoped for, but hey, it was what I was comfortable in doing and it felt right.

My style stayed private for years, but finally surfaced in the key art for the film The Sandpiper and also in animated form for the opening credits of the movie.  I've since gone on, evolving my style a bit, and using it on various other projects.  Currently I'm illustrating a children's book which is a new endeavor within itself.

Now, if I was to wrap this up, it would come off as cheesy, something Mike Brady would tell the rest of the Brady clan after they've managed to screw up and humiliate Alice in the process.  No matter how lame this may sound, always remember to "be yourself".

Sometimes, we're not who we thought or wanted to be, but take the inner artist and evolve and develop that style into something of your own.  This is a process that even still toying with.

Wow, the cheese factor is really high today, isn't it?