Around the time I started working on ‘Ant’ last year, my dog Jack died. His health declined rapidly for nearly three months before we finally said goodbye. It was easily one of my lowest points — I was working part time, doing freelance, struggling to finish my final Masters project, and dealing with health complications around my other dog, too. I was Jack’s main carer on top of that — monitoring his health, keeping track of, splitting, buying, and administering meds, helping him pee and poo, scheduling endless vet appointments, travelling up and down, watching my account balance dwindle, getting up in the middle of the night to let him out to pee, weighing up his quality of life and having to research and make arrangements for when the end would come (which is no easy feat in Sri Lanka when you’re a renter).
Suffice to say, I was doing a lot to tread water and not lose my mind. I needed to be there for my dog, I needed to not screw up at work, and I needed to make sure I didn’t throw all my hard work away on my course. Somehow, I passed with a distinction and gained a first class for the degree. Surreally, this was also the time I learned that my work had been longlisted for the World Illustration Awards. Two huge, incredible things had happened, and celebrating was the last thing I was in the mood for. A lot of the time I would just sit with my head in my hands, waiting for an emotional explosion that never seemed to hit.
Eventually, it was Jack’s time.
It was a gut punch that we knew was coming. We watched our other dog Twinky shrink with sadness when she realised her best friend was longer around, and teared up in the mornings at the empty patch of sun by the front door that he used to snooze in. He had been in my life for 14 years and suddenly he was gone.
The month that followed was sluggish. I knew I needed to get on with ‘Ant’, but I struggled to mentally put one foot in front of the other. My birthday came and went. There would be days where I would stare at a blank page for a few hours and then call it a day because nothing would happen. I left my deadlines late and rushed them, delayed them, and generally did everything that would normally annoy me, had I been on the receiving end of it. Luckily the author who I was working directly with was patient — it certainly helped that he was my brother-in-law! I’m not sure what the outcome would have been if I had been working with a stranger.
I think the most disorienting thing was no longer having anything else to do. I was suddenly left with nights I could sleep through, no more medication schedule, no more heavy lifting, and one dog that was slowly on the mend. I drew pictures of Jack a lot, frustratingly distorted at times. I made a comic of him in dog heaven, as I imagined him reunited with our other pups, Rosie and Suey. The three of them had been the original namesake of ‘3mongrels’ many years ago.
I stuck to Twinky like glue. I needed to have her near, and I was stressed about her own age and ailments. I think I was just overthinking things.
Two months later I took a break from everything for a couple of weeks to travel to graduation. It was a trip to the UK, so we made a holiday of it and I took a small, handmade sketchbook with me, along with my travel watercolour kit. Each time we sat to take in the view I would paint. I didn’t think about my deadlines or the new job I had just taken loads of leave from or anything else — just an empty head, a beautiful view and art supplies. It didn’t matter how these pieces came out — I just needed to exercise that creative muscle in a simple setting. Back to basics.
In a way it helped to unblock the stunted flow of my practice, and helped me realise how aimless my work had been since Jack’s passing. ‘Ant’ was the only thing keeping me on track, and I needed to work hard not to lose the momentum on it. I returned home inspired and ready to finish up the book.
Alongside ‘Ant’ progress I began experimenting with a new visual language. I brought in the looseness of sketching from life to my iPad and tried some digital ‘painting’, timing myself and not being too precious. Eventually, ‘Jasper’ emerged.
Drawn from a friend’s photo, I was happy with how vivid the colours appeared through the iPad, and the use of layers and two-finger-tap undo certainly helps too. ‘Jasper’ opened the floodgates to a natural progression of my visual language — one that might finally be applicable in the markets I was aiming for.
I wasn’t expecting to find a new level of visual language after pushing through my grief, but it’s happened somehow. I’m thankful for the opportunities that allowed me to push through and see the world anew. It’s now been a year since that difficult time — I feel more confident in my identity as an illustrator and I guess as a person overall. I went from treading water to diving headfirst into the next level of my practice. Whether I make a splash or not remains to be seen.
Having two dogs myself, it would break my heart to lose them. I could really feel your grief through the writing, but the way it ends finding a new visual language is so beautiful!! The Jasper illustration is done so well.