Sitting Down With Tyler

I got a chance to sit down with a dear friend, Tyler, today.

Do you ever have that feeling where you never really got a chance to get super close to or hang out with somebody, but anytime you’d see them for a moment, you’d end up having some enjoyable conversation? You just kind of develop this shared, mutual respect without ever really knowing each other that well.

Tyler was definitely one of those people.

I’ve known the dude for probably a little over a decade at this point, and I never really got the chance to sit down and pick his mind. But I always got the sense there was a lot more under the hood.

Sure enough, I got to sit down with Tyler today. He volunteered to be drawn when I put an ad out on social media looking for people to draw, and I obliged. He was my first subject, as it were.

And I gotta say, I was not disappointed in my conversation with Tyler.

The conversation had both depth and breadth. We touched on all things life: video games, music, anime, gardening, hiking, and the deep esoteric. It was nice to just let the conversation be free-flowing and see where it went.

It’s also interesting to sit around with somebody for two hours who you’ve never really spent that kind of time with before.

That’s always something I think about before I do these portraits: whether or not the person is going to be able to endure sitting there, being looked at, for that long. I certainly don’t know if I could do it.

My ADHD mind needs to be doing something.

And honestly, sitting down with somebody and drawing is how I hang out. It’s how I quiet my mind.

So it was a really nice afternoon.

I’m thankful I finally got the chance to catch up with Tyler, and I’m also really thankful that I’ve gotten to do so many of these studies now. I’ve been doing them consistently enough that they’re starting to feel like their own little practice—a reason to sit down with someone, look at them closely, draw them, and actually spend some time together.

And I think that’s pretty special.

Weekly Observational Study: The Ugly Part

Just finished up my weekly observational study at the diner, and I kind of ran out of things I wanted to draw on the table.

I had drawn a coffee cup, a sugar dispenser, some packets of jelly. I started thinking, Well, what more of the condiments can I draw? What’s going to be fun?

So I realized maybe it was time to start bringing some of my own props.

I was a little nervous about it. I didn’t want them to get on me for bringing something into the diner, but I decided to bring a LaCroix can.

There’s something really beautiful about the way light bounces off aluminum, especially the aluminum of a LaCroix can. You can see more of the actual metal than you might on something like a Coke can. The printing almost feels transparent in places, so the aluminum itself comes through. Light just dances across it.

But what I really want to talk about today isn’t the LaCroix.

It’s the ugly part.

While I was painting this, I felt something more strongly than I have during any of the other studies I’ve done here. There’s a point in the painting where the whole thing is just fucking ugly.

And the confusing part is that you’re actually doing everything right.

That’s one of the strange things about observational painting, especially when you’re doing color studies. So much of color is about context. You might be painting a beautiful reflection on the aluminum, but if you haven’t painted the top of the can yet, or the tab, or the hole where you drink out of it, that beautiful reflection doesn’t necessarily look beautiful anymore.

It doesn’t have anything to relate to.

The individual pieces don’t make sense until the whole picture starts coming together.

And I think there’s something really profound about that.

Because there’s a point in almost any endeavor where you’re doing the right things, but you don’t have enough context yet to see that you’re doing the right things.

And that’s where you start second-guessing yourself.

Am I doing this right?

Did I make the right decision?

Do I actually have the skills to do this?

Maybe this isn’t working.

And I think that kind of skepticism can pull you out of the moment.

Instead of listening to your intuition and continuing to do the work, you start watching yourself do the work. You start analyzing every decision. You start wondering whether you’re supposed to be here at all.

And that’s the point where fear can take over.

But if you can get through that part—if you can let go of the need to know whether you’re doing it right—you get to something else.

Trust.

And after trust, flow.

Your senses sharpen. You start seeing the colors more clearly. You start noticing subtle differences you couldn’t see before. You stop trying to force the painting into existence and start responding to what is actually in front of you.

And I think this happens in everything.

Basketball. Boxing. Writing. Painting. Building a business. Learning an instrument. Really anything you care enough about to become good at.

There’s going to be a part where your work doesn’t have context yet.

It doesn’t look good.

Nobody understands it.

Maybe nobody is paying attention.

Maybe even you don’t fully understand it.

And I think that’s where a lot of people give up.

We tend to frame our passions around the moments when we arrive. We imagine the finished painting. The championship. The book on the shelf. The followers. The abundance. The paycheck.

We imagine the destination.

But we don’t always prepare ourselves for the part where we’re standing in the middle of the fucking mess.

The part where we’re not sure.

The part where our work looks ugly.

The part where we’re putting pieces into place without being able to see the final picture yet.

Maybe that’s actually where the strength is built.

Maybe the practice isn’t just about learning how to paint an aluminum can.

Maybe these studies are a meditation on getting through the uncomfortable part without abandoning yourself.

Learning to tolerate ambiguity.

Learning to trust your intuition when you don’t have enough evidence yet.

Learning to keep going when the picture hasn’t come together.

Because eventually, if you stay with it, the context arrives.

The pieces start talking to each other.

And suddenly, what looked ugly ten minutes ago makes sense.

So maybe that’s what I’m practicing here.

Not just painting.

Persevering.

Having patience with the part of the process where I can’t yet see what it’s going to become.

Maybe you can practice that, too.

You’re Not Worth Much Unless You’re Selling It

You’re Not Worth Much Unless You’re Selling It

Am I worth less as an artist if there’s not a monetary value attached to what I make?

How come commerce and talent have become so inextricably bound?

I’m not saying I don’t want to make a living doing what I love. I do. I believe our passions can also be our careers.

But I also believe we contain multitudes far beyond what someone is willing to pay us. Far beyond how an algorithm responds to our output. Far beyond whether or not you can throw an advertisement on what I produce.

I refuse to let that be where the story ends.

I refuse to let a marketing strategy, or whether or not I made the front page become the final arbiter on my worth as an artist.

As long as I can remember, I’ve sold my art.

And, if I’m being honest, for almost as long as I can remember, I’ve tied my sense of worth as an artist to its income and its outcome, to the opportunities it created, the attention it received.

I’m tired of carrying that equation around.

That isn’t to say I don’t want to profit from my work. It isn’t to say I don’t believe in building a sustainable creative career. I do.

But I also think there’s something sacred that gets lost when every drawing, every painting, every idea has to justify itself with a dollar sign before it earns the right to exist.

Lately I’ve been trying something different.I’m taking a walk on the wild side. I’m trying to see again.

I’m breaking down the walls, throwing out the guardrails, kicking away the training wheels, and allowing myself to make work simply because something inside me wants to make it.

Art is my dowsing rod.

It has always been the thing that helps me discover what’s buried beneath the surface. It points toward meaning. Toward healing. Toward spirituality. Toward questions I didn’t even know I was asking.

It has always been so much more than a product, so much more than a consumer debt elimination tool.

This morning I sat in a diner for three hours, doing a still life. These were the thoughts that came to me as I walked out the door, these were the thoughts that stayed with me.

Maybe the value of our work isn’t something we discover after someone is willing to buy it.

Maybe some of its greatest value exists long before anyone else ever sees it, in the moment we get to share with it.

Because we live in a world today where every second is spoken for and every penny has its purpose.

What if our art was just for us for a few moments every now and again? What if we started rejuvenating ourselves with our art the way we invigorate all of our fans and patrons?

The beautiful thing is it doesn’t have to be a What if.

Seeing Things Different

Long time, no see. Long time, no talky.

I’m starting this blog back up because I want to start putting something into the world again.

For a long time, I tried to keep up with Instagram, YouTube, newsletters, you name it. I genuinely enjoyed those things, but I also have a pretty strong perfectionist streak. I found myself spending more and more time building the business I thought I needed, and less and less time actually making art. Looking back, that’s been a pattern for as long as I can remember.

This past year has been one of the most pivotal years of my life because I finally put my foot down. I slowed down, took a breath, and started asking what actually needed to change.

I’ve gone by SMH for the last decade. They’re my initials, and that name has served me well. But I reached a point where I realized I needed to stop asking how to grow that version of myself and start asking what comes next.

For the past year, I’ve been working with a mentor, trying to find the direction I was really looking for. I feel like I’ve finally started to find it.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned is simple: the art and the message have to come first. Before the algorithms. Before the social media strategy. Before the metrics. Before the business systems. Before the money. If I don’t protect the joy of making the work itself, none of the rest of it matters.

So I’m starting small.

For now, I’ll be sharing weekly studies simple drawings where I sit down and try to see the world a little more clearly. They aren’t perfect, and they don’t have to be. They exist because I made them.

Over time, I hope to share more here: thoughts from my book, newsletters, and whatever else grows naturally from this process.

More than anything, I just want to fall in love with making art again.

Thanks for stopping by. You’ll be hearing from me again soon.

Just did a drawing of Beebz from the game demon turf

Here’s my first original piece of the year and a neat little comic strip idea I had about the power of trendy marketing! A copy of this will be included with any purchase in the merch store while supplies last!

I Been Through the Mud and I Came out Clean

Have you heard the expression “no mud no lotus”? Basically we’re all gonna go through it before we find inner peace. After all a lotus only grows from the mud. 

  I been through it and you been through we’ve all been through it. but I think we gotta go through it cause there where plenty of times when I was outta line and I really needed a humbling. Times when I wasn’t respectful, times when I thought too highly of myself, I wouldn’t listen to nobody. 

So if the universe wants to spank me I will gladly bend over, I’ll humbly take whatever BIG UNI wants to dish out and I’ll call it schoolin cause I know I’ll be better for it. 

It’s been a long winding road with many bumps and I’m sure there’s a long winding road ahead. but it’s a road I’m ready to walk cause I know I’ll be better for it. 

xoxo SMH

Student of Life Part 1

I’m starting a new journal series, you can call It a short essay or a journal whichever you choose. I put out a little booklet at the beginning of the year called SMH Annual Vol.1: Enough To Share. 

  The book was all about what I had learned that year. When I wrote that publication I hadn’t really made an effort to put my thoughts together about it until the end of the year. I’m an artist that really loves being in the process So I figure it’ll help me to gather my thoughts leading up to writing the second volume.

  This year’s theme will focus around being a Student of Life. I always consider myself that, but I’m really feeling compelled to be a student right now. I started going to school for illustration last year and it’s pushing me in a whole new direction as an artist. It’s very focused on drawings principals I glanced over in high school and a whole new host of other lessons. 

  Vol.1 had this art direction I was really proud of, I worked for years to create this visual identity for myself. Been remaking my website with is in mind, making illustrations to post and sell. and what it seems like is I brought that style as far as I could given my current technical ability. So it feels like a logical conclusion for me to put a pause on the Cartoons for the time being to dip back into the well so to speak, see what there is to learn out there. 

It’s really, really fascinating honestly. To be a novice again, to have mentorship again, to be humble again. There are a lot of things right now happening around me that are giving me much needed fresh perspective. To continue on about the illustration itself, there are ways where I always knew the perspective was off, I always knew I was limited in some ways when it actually comes to my knowledge of anatomy. Certain things would just look goofy within the piece, it was the sorta thing I would hope people would glance over in my work and let the loud bright color distract them. Ultimately I feel as though they were inadequacies I was pretty insecure about. Obviously that is more than ok to have those flaws, I am just happy I decided to start focusing on fixing them. 

Obviously you’ll see a few drawing here I decided to share. This is the stuff I’m currently working on. Trying to push myself to work on the illustration principals I was taught for an hour or so each day and balance other projects I got going on. It all adds up and amounts to the schooling I’m seeking. 

Is this the life of an artist? It remains to be seen.

Xoxo SMH 

P.S here’s a link to 2023’s SMH Annual if you’re interested.

https://www.stephenmichaelhaas.com/shopsmh/smh-annual-vol1-enough-to-share-physical