It Started With a Blank Page

(Or, How I Became an Artist — for Real This Time)

So here’s a thing I haven’t said out loud (or online) in a while:
Hi, I’m an artist. And I’m making something new.

After a long stretch of silence on this corner of the internet, I’m coming back — not with a polished portfolio or a grand unveiling — but with a story. A true one. One that I wasn’t sure I’d ever share.

Recently, I was invited by the lovely folks at Safe & Sound here in San Francisco — in partnership with The Moth (yes, that Moth) — to contribute to a series on resilience. I thought I’d send them a little something, and that story would end there.

Instead, I ended up telling this story, live, in front of an audience, and very (very) large cameras.

It’s about how I started to draw — not as a kid (though there were plenty of crayons and poorly drawn horses back then), but later. When I needed it. When I didn’t know what else to do. It’s about making marks on paper as a way of finding my way back to myself.

And now that story — shaky voice, earnest heart and all — lives in video form.
You can watch it here.

It’s vulnerable, and it’s real, and it offers a sneak preview of something I’ve been quietly building behind the scenes. Spoiler: it might just be a book project. (More on that soon… shhh.)

But for now, I’m sharing this as a beginning. A re-entry. A reminder that you can always start again — with one small story, one blank page, one imperfect line.

Thanks for being here. It means the world.

With so much gratitude,
Stephanie

Middle school teaching - Antiracism

Recently, I was struck by the tremendous gaps in my knowledge about civil rights and systemic racism. In my quest to deepen my understanding, I came across a graphic designed by Andrew M Ibrahim on Twitter.

Here is my adapted version of his graphic, aimed toward teens and tweens and their families. I hope that by illustrating a trajectory to anti-racism, we can all better understand the thoughts and behaviors necessary to reach equity.

Where do you see yourself in this process? What is this graphic missing? I’d love to hear from you.

Anti-racism for teens and tweens available for download.

Anti-racism for teens and tweens available for download.

A Brief Visual Lesson

Creating animations to teach complex topics has been a long-time dream. Using After Effects, this dynamic platform made it possible to simplify biology by presenting it visually, which makes my heart happy. Animation-making seems to combine my experience as a teacher, scientist, artist, and dancer in a unique way. Without further ado, here is a very brief (under two minutes!) introduction to evolution in the Antarctic!

Please leave comments below. Teacher and scientist friends, I’m particularly interested in whether you think this might be useful for you and your work!

Learning to learn

After 6 years of teaching and a partial lifetime before that of other experiences, I’ve returned to school as a student. For the last 6 months, I’ve been enrolled in a graduate program in science illustration. As I’ve learned, I’ve posted my victories - clinging to them for dear life - as I experience what learning is truly like with an adult frame of reference. Given how I witnessed my former students face challenges and thrive, I felt and feel uniquely equipped to excel in learning now. That though, leaves off the process and the struggle, as do my recent posts. I would be remiss - no negligent - not to help folks understand what it truly looks like to learn.

First, let me say, that learning in general, looks like this. That is a link, and I beg you to watch it. No really, please watch that video again and again every time you feel frustrated or confused or convinced that someone else must just be gifted. Learning is a process and it involves falling or failing (in this wee one’s case on your face) numerous times whether or not anyone else sees it. It also involves trying again without a prolonged episode of comparison, self-pity, or telling yourself you can’t do it. This baby giraffe is a star.

For me, the process of learning to illustrate has been humbling. As new media and techniques are introduced, I have felt over and over again like this long-legged sweet face-faller. I have also been incredibly blessed to feel at times the thrill of standing, often with the gaze of a benevolent giraffe onlooker in the form of a teacher, teaching assistant, or classmate. But then another new thing comes down that pipeline, and I return to naivety. At times, I overcompensate for this naivety with self-deprecation or overexertion, sometimes I flex my teacher muscles and imagine what I would advise a student to do and do that (hint: this often involves repetition), sometimes I just get into a groove and hope for the best. Sometimes I revel in the mastery that comes with having worked hard at something and getting ahead. Sometimes, I quietly and briefly walk out of the classroom and take a walk because I literally need air or a chai latte or a forgotten pencil before I can do anything else. I’m familiar with the perspective of this wee giraffe; at times I’m just getting my balance.

Here’s a very clear example of learning over time:

An example of repetition helping to increase mastery.

An example of repetition helping to increase mastery.

Illustrating realistically though is a unique thing to learn. It involves seeing things for what they are and transferring that knowledge to a piece of paper, or canvas, or computer screen. It is at its core, overriding the tendency for our brain to take shortcuts: a face is not an emoji, nor is a bunny head a circle and two ovals. It is important that our neural circuits are designed to make shortcuts. These are useful. It isn’t efficient for me to have to conceptualize every pore on your face in order for me to recognize you as friend, or self, or enemy. These symbolic representations are also though extremely limited and terribly inaccurate, and explain our tendency for bias and assumption. Drawing realistically then is a process of seeing for the first time. And when you miss the mark, well - the results are on the page clear as day. This process has reminded me over and over again how I might be mistaking things in my day-to-day life, as I fail to render them accurately on the page. In effect, in addition to learning to draw, paint, digitally create images, and animate, I am also learning how to see things, people, and interactions mindfully. If only there were a similar read out for when I fell short!

There’s more to say here, in that your goal may not be to be the very best accurate illustrator. Nor ought it to be. And, that sometimes more repetition, while leading to more mastery, may also deplete other areas of your life that are important, like loving your friends and family, going to the gym, walking your dog, and being a good human. But that’s for another post.

In summary, learning is messy and it’s supposed to be. Social media doesn’t always illustrate that (pun intended) so I wanted to here. Our brain is designed to accumulate new information, and we need to be patient with it and ourselves as we integrate that. We can’t ever expect to be perfect, but we can hope for an upward arc and surround ourselves with giraffe friends who care enough to say: hey, I think you can do it; you’re on the right track. I’m certainly grateful for mine.

Microscopic Revolution

One of my goals in science illustration is to make complex ideas accessible. Today I’d love to share with you my first pass at instruction through animation, with a brief - and I hope worthwhile - introduction.

As a person with a microscope tattoo, it may be no surprise that this tool amazes me. Simple in its arrangement of lenses and mirrors, the microscope allows us to examine and confirm the existence of the invisible. Without it, germs would still be the stuff of stories. Just over 400 years ago, scientists began to use handmade microscopes to make careful and painstaking observations of things through the lenses. Remarkably, Robert Hooke created the detailed drawing of a flea you’ll see at the end of this video in the 1600s!

If you’re understandably not fascinated by microscopy or its history, perhaps instead you’ll relate to the parallels between microscopy and the way we see things in our daily lives. Our own set of lenses - our unique set of experiences and hardwiring - permit us to hone in on and focus on particular things. Exposed to the very same headline or image, you and I may have unique views and distinct reactions. Perhaps by acknowledging that our expectations and beliefs change what we see, enlarging some things and masking others, we can free ourselves to see things more objectively or try on other lenses.

Without further ado, below you’ll find my first application of InDesign, and a short (silent) animation designed for students new to microscopy. The aim of this assignment was to explore some of the basics in the program - movement, and a glow through. Would love to hear what you learned, and what suggestions you have going forward. 

The microscope revolutionized science. But how does it work?