Eva Vilhelmiina

I've been drawing more, and it's really a first time in some years that I filled a sketchbook within a year. It's not about any grind to me, simply a desire to draw, which I've sometimes lost. I've been working digitally for years and it's still mainly what I use for job, and working this way, there tends to be routine and familiarity, necessities to get things finished. Around the time that AI started coming up and ever since, watching it evolve, I've had to re-examine what digital means to me, and what purpose there is to making anything. There's always been something inherently temporary and transitional about the digital to me. It exists, in a way, only as a file and data. But it can become "real". Original, traditionally made illustration is simply an origin of the actual work, which would be a book, poster or animated film. In this sense it shouldn't really matter how it's made, digital or traditional. But to me, it matters that a person made it, with a skill they've practised. And despite the capability and utility of the digital, there probably is something unconscious at works when an original, handmade work is observed. But how important that is, varies. I went to see Ghibli museum in Tokyo 2024, and I saw many of the pencil drawn layouts and poster colour painted backgrounds for Boy and Heron. It was a near spiritual experience, not in fanboy sense, but from the scale and the depth of human ability, put on paper. But, the way they display the paintings was interesting: they look very haphazardly hung, with pins, not framed. It seemed to convey to me: this is not art. This is work! The movie is the art! Even so, they're beautiful fragments of the whole, each of them painted with great care and skill. You're in the presence of countless of hours of people painting and thinking, and even more vast amount of hours put into mastering the craft. I can unfortunately see "the industry" adapt AI, most of the background work and concept can be automated, and the great pitch is that since they are mere fragments of the whole, it's just menial labour. Earlier this year I talked with a concept artist, who while opposing AI from ethical stance, didn't oppose it conceptually. There are many types of concept artists, but in their words, they are a kind of old school type, to whom drawing is a mere base skill to communicate an idea, cheaply. A concept artist would use photobashing, 3D, whatever means, to communicate an idea. Clients and companies however, always want the most fidelity and detail, as fast as possible, and AI would help get there without breaking backs. I get this, but it also made me realize I kind of loathe the whole gig. These kind of priorities "speed", "the details", "how real it looks" are the reason I think most games and movies look and feel like horseshit. The way the system is built to favor cutting away the foundations of human ability and intelligence, in service of superficial exterior and approximate, instead of specific. I've felt the necessity to circle back to the act of making things and being more present. I don't reject digital tools as a whole, but working traditionally is insightful in a way that digital isn't, to me. It's quite slow and painstaking, especially after getting proficient in digital work. Personally, I don't think traditional is the solution, but it can be a balm and a teacher. In the landscape of today, I don't think much meaningful art can come from the industry. There are still artists who are capable of it, good people, good companies even, but I've needed to reconnect with the ability to think and create without frameworks of industry. The way I see it, very few are naturals in these confines and most artists are suffocated and their bravery stunted. So, for 2026 I'll just keep making things. I hope anyone reading this or passing by will have peace, love and courage for the next year.