7 years ago, I created the dudes. The wormy whimsical characters living in colorful chaos. These dudes have tiny heads and unapologetically happy bodies. They dress funny and move freely. They’re thirsty for life and hungry for attention. I love drawing the dudes, and they love me back.

This playful style became a stepping stone to my career as an illustrator. It was the product of my UI design and startup fatigue. An attempt to break free from familiar and succeed in the unknown. It started as an experiment and ended up becoming what they call “a signature”. A style that makes illustrators instantly recognizable and unforgettable.

Now, I’m not saying I’m unforgettable (you tell me), but the dudes do tend to create a lasting impression when one sees my work. The shape is unique, charisma is there, composition is chaos, and my choice of colors provides that extra oomph. A combination that celebrates excessiveness from every angle.

I can draw dudes anywhere, at any time, on any surface. My hand and my brain are so intertwined with this style that sometimes it’s hard to imagine creating not dudes and not chaos. Not dressing them funny. Not moving them freely. Not moving them at all? I used to question if there’s enough creative capacity in me for something else. Other style. Other dudes? Not dudes?

Thankfully, my most recent role at Padlet proved that I am indeed capable. I took a 4-year break from my signature and focused on creating a different style from scratch + building an illustration kingdom system on top of it. The use case I’m going to one day write and password protect because the work I did at Padlet is mysterious and important.

When I first joined the company, I still created an occasional dude here and there, but very soon the full-timeness of Padlet (and parenting) removed all the space for free-styling. I didn’t have time for the dudes. I didn’t have thoughts for the dudes. I stopped seeing and dreaming in dudes. They were slowly fading away.

And I thought it wasn’t too bad. After all, I made that career move to prove to myself that the dudes don’t define me. Or own me. That developing a successful illustration style doesn’t mean that one has to create in it for as long as they live. And as much as I love the dudes and they love me back, I didn’t want to draw them till the sunset of my days. Or at least, not them alone.

One thing I’ve learnt about myself in 34 years of existence is that I’m great at settings things up. From zero to hero. From nada to todo. I come up with ideas, create the things, develop strategies, and accompany them all the way to the stage. I watch the peformance, read the reviews, revise and tweak, and do it enough times till I know that the thing is successful.

This quality applies to all aspects of my life, including illustration styles. I did that with dudes first. I did that at Padlet next. I’m proud and happy with both, but it’s time to create something else. And sometimes, the something else feels scary. Because it’s another attempt to break free from familiar and succeed in the unknown. So great for the brain, so bad for security.

It’s very exciting but also disrupting. It’s hard to control and takes time to establish. Speaking of control, I wrote all about it in my recent post on transitioning from screens to paper, which is a whole other shade of scary.

Ok, back to creativity crisis. I won’t lie, there’re days when I wish I could be a one-style illustrator who’s in love with it enough to keep on going. Stay with one thing, refine and elevate, don’t stress and enjoy the consistent branding. I simplify, of course, but it’s a fantasy of mine that I sometimes exercise to remind myself of who I am and what’s important.

To me, change is important. Always learning new things is important. Moving forward is important. Solving problems is important. Having fun is important. Creating a new illustration style checks all those things simultaneously. It’s a challenge to tackle and a joy in the making. Something that I started missing after 4 years at Padlet, and something I’m getting back to today.

That said, the dudes I once created still have a special place in my heart. Just because I don’t want to draw them till my hand is sore anymore, doesn’t mean that I’ll never ever draw them again. In fact, I just did earlier this month when I was figuring out how zines work and created my own.

My dudes will always be mine, nothing will change that. And together, we’re going to see where my creative brain takes us next. The something I’m over the roof excited about. Always excited. Can’t wait!