We often find ourselves discouraged by those that can do what we love better than us.
We also often forget that they struggled and put a lot of work to be where they are now.
One doesn't simply wake up one day and have been granted unsurpassed talent in any particular subject.
The time old method of honing your craft is to practice.
But sometimes that isn't enough. You need guiding hands. Support. Reassurance and peers to lean your shoulder on.
In this thread you can discuss your art blocks, inspirations, favorite artists, share tutorials, and give your hand to your fellow artists. Whatever your niche may be, there's someone there to lend an ear and provide a step ahead.
If you have tutorials/videos that may help or artists you find inspiring feel free to share them under the designated sub-thread.
If you want to share your art without a critique say so when you post it.
If you want one make sure to state that.
Some personal guidelines I follow under the cut
[spoiler]
1. [b]Use References. [/b]
Unless you know you've got the feel of something completely memorized by heart and hand you should always use a photo to help you. You will learn faster and with less frustration/pain. Even if you're doing a cartoon piece. Cartoons are simply real things simplified.
2. [b]Do not ever learn anatomy from drawings. [/b]
Art is often stylized and it's not always correct. While it's fine to learn style and carve out your own, studying anatomy from other artist's work will hazard fatal mistakes and minimize actual learning.
3. [b]Keep your old doodles. [/b]
Even if you hate them. You can either later reflect on them to see what you've learned, or as what's happened with me, look back at it and realize it was actually very good. You were only being hypercritical. Old drawings can be salvaged, reformed, or stylized into something magnificent.
4. [b][u]Do not be discouraged by other artist's work! [/u][/b]
I cannot tell you how poisonous this is. I am guilty of it and from first hand experience can tell you how detrimental it is. Your work is an expression of yourself. Different art styles doesn't equal being better or worse than someone else. You can admire someone's style without copying or stripping away your own. Instead of being heart broken by "better" work you should learn from them. Ask them questions. Get advice or see how they view their art. Chances are they think they're nothing compared to the artists that [i]they[/i] look up to.
5. [b]Practice and feel good. [/b]
Enjoy what you do. Don't force it or feel you need to draw/create as much as others. For almost all of us art is a hobby. Hobbies are meant to be enjoyed. Create what interests you even if it's not popular or will get everyone's attention. If you have an uncommon style those that indulge in it will appreciate it all the more.
6. [b]Don't be afraid to experiment. [/b]
You'll learn great things you never would have thought you were capable of.
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I am a SAI Paint Tool user. I have little to no advice about Photoshop! I am sorry. I also apologize if I haven't commented on everyone's stuff. I will get to it! (or I will at least "like" it so you know you're not forgotten)
I've been very busy and I enjoy giving well thought out help instead of rushing it between work breaks.
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Not that should bother. But I feel like posting the rough idea of the opening to a story I recently started work on. [spoiler]Columns of smoke blew out across the horizon on the winds, on grey skies as the early morning sun dawned. Always, across the grey battered landscape, under the rubble of once towering superstructures which now lay sprawled across the ground overtop of each other in a great tangle like a fallen forest. Jericho stared up through the haze of grey, of smoke and fires on the winds. Up, up far beyond the scorched ground he walked on, to the immense blotch in the sky. He couldn’t make out the finer details. But it was always there. More light filtered in through the everlasting haze of dust and smoke that blew across the ruins of this world. The sound of gunfire in the distance brought his attention away from the sky. Jericho sighed. “Right. Go over this with me, one more time.” Standing in front of him, another man, as worn and dirty as Jericho himself, clad in rough and by now barely functioning armour for its intended purpose, smiled under a veil across his face as he held a small pistol up to Jericho, keeping it steady on him. The man pointed up to the blotch in the sky. “It’s a simple damn plan Jericho. You get up there. Find a way to smuggle some of what they’ve got on that ship down here. And if you can’t do that, sabotage the other side. It’s our only chance.” Jericho looked up the station that hung in the sky. “Do we even have any idea what’s up in that ship?” The man shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We need what they have. It’s the only way we’re going to win down here. It’s us or them Jer. That ship up there is just making everything a damn stalemate.” Jericho sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” The man raised his gun once more. “Hey, if it counts for anything, you’re the best man for this job Jer. I know you’ll get us what we need. You always do. It’ll be fine.” The man chuckled. “And hey. It’s not every day I get to shoot your smug ass.” Jericho rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up.” Jericho sighed, holding out his arms. “Right. Remember. I need to be dying. Not dead. Gutshot. Punctured lung. That whole deal.” “Jer. I’m a crack shot.” Jericho took a deep breath. “Right. Okay.” The man chuckled. “It’s gonna hurt Jer.” “I’ve been shot before.” “Not like this.” Jericho sighed. “Right. On three.” The man across from Jericho nodded. “Okay. Ready? One.” Jericho took a deep breath and spoke. “Two.” A bolt of energy discharged from the pistol, traveling clean through Jericho’s chest, vaporizing whatever the beam passed through and exiting out the other side. The pistol hummed as its power cells cycled and two more shots rang out, passing through him and burning clean through. The wounds were clean. Surgical in their mathematical perfection as the beams passed through him. But pain became a quickly arriving feeling as Jericho’s legs gave out from under him and all sense of balance was discarded as he fell onto the dirt and ash, now dying. The man walked up to Jericho. “Sorry Jer. Hurts less if you don’t expect it. I’ve gotta scram before the drones show up to get you. Best of luck pal.” The man patted Jericho on the shoulder as he was helpless to say anything as he clutched at the dirt and gasped for air as his vision started to fade. Footsteps rung in his ears as the man began running. Gunfire sounded out in the distance, a background noise across the entire planet like the forgotten and unnoticed thump of a heartbeat. And on the wind, as ash and dust blew across the remnants of this fallen world, the hum of engines could be heard. Drones, quickly making landfall from sub-orbital levels, which scoured the entire planet with nearly uncountable numbers, were now coming for him. Descending down to his dying form like vultures. But, to most, to simple people, simple minded or uneducated because this world had only known fighting for so long, these machines were not vultures. They were angels. Jericho’s vision faded to black as the last thing burned into his eyes was light. Bright searchlights and scanners. He had his ticket to heaven now. [/spoiler]