Finding Peace with Opportunity Cost
illustration process
It's been ten months since moving from beautiful, lush, hilly, down-to-earth Tennessee to Florida, a bit more fast paced, flat-land, where the seasons are not leaves changing but people changing, from all over the world visitors charm the streets, beaches, and city. After experiencing many winters (six years of winters to be exact) tornadoes, and being snowed-in, I 100% understand, now, why Florida is so attractive. I have a whole new perspective on it and a whole new appreciation for why it can feel like a paradise.
Which brings me to my reflection on opportunity cost.
There's a sacrifice woven into every single decision we make.
Moving is just one example. I’ll no longer drive through quiet country roads with crisp autumn air as I revel in the wonder of multi-colored leaves falling. At the same time, I do have the new opportunity to sit and contemplate the meaning of life on a sandy beach while watching the sunset kiss the vast open sea. The waves crashing near my toes reminding me that I'm one tiny piece of the infinite universe above, around, and through me. I can sit and watch the waves for hours, it makes everything feel ok again. The waves near the shore are like a physical representation of the fact that everything will always come and go. Forever.
illustration process
Opportunity cost is also something I've experienced as an illustrator, designer, and artist. I use three separate words to describe each function because they're very different practices and skillsets. There's overlapping elements but each one requires years of practice and provide different opportunities.
When I was an art student, digital technology for art was still quite new (at least to me anyway). I didn't have the financial means to afford any of it so all I could rely on was pencils, brushes, and paper. As the technology renaissance swept across the planet, art was no exception. All of a sudden, there were shiny new tools that could make beautiful work in half the time. AI gives me Déjà vu.
Yet here I am, in 2026, feeling like a dinosaur some days, because I'm still mixing the same four pigments over and over again. Day after day. Year after year.
Reds + Yellows + Blues + White
Beach Day Mode - process
Beach Day Mode - illustration process
I know that I've lost many opportunities because of the way I make my work and the "look" it gives. It's a bit imperfect, unpolished, and highly textured. Over the years, I've worked to find ways to incorporate digital tools within my process to stay current in my knowledge.
I tell myself, “readers can't tell the different right? It’s all about the story, the content of the matter.” I hear from others, “nobody really cares how the work is made and most people can't tell the difference.” So does it even matter? I tell myself these same things over and over again. Sometimes these thoughts freeze me and I stop working, afraid to do the wrong things that will lose me jobs.
But here's the interesting thing. We can't fool our spirit. My spirit pulls me back to working with my hands for most of the process every time. Of course I experiment and have fun using new digital tools and sometimes that's the best option for certain printing processes. At the end of the day, our inner being knows what we really need and why we need it. Which means that if we do want to listen to our spirit's voice it also means finding a way to become at peace with the opportunity cost. For me as an artist that means waiting for the right folks to resonate with my work at the right time. In a way, it's just like finding love isn't it? The right people love us for what makes us different.
Here’s the scanned final of the current illustration I’m working on. Next steps are to clean up the strange ickys that the scanner always adds and add finishing touches. Sometimes I like to tweak the colors and really bring the narrative to life through the mood. Color is after all the heartbeat of an image. It determines the mood.
