How Failing Inktober Led Me to One of My Best Drawings

middle man

I remember creating this drawing for Inktober 2024 — and quite a few things happened along the way.

First, for those unfamiliar: Inktober is an art challenge. It was created by Jake Parker in 2009. Artists are encouraged to draw and share one ink drawing per day throughout October. They use the hashtag #Inktober. It’s a great way to improve technique, build an artistic habit, and connect with fellow creators.

In 2024, I made the decision to (almost) fully commit to ink drawing. It’s a discipline like any other, but with its own quirks and constraints. The challenge was literally called INK-tober. So, I figured it was the perfect excuse to leave other media aside. This allowed me to dive deep into mastering ink.

I began working exclusively with ink. First traditional ink on paper, then digital ink. Photoshop’s immense flexibility lets me emulate any kind of ink or tool I can imagine.

Inktober requires a new drawing every day, so speed is essential. So is inspiration — you can’t draw what doesn’t come to mind. I planned to have two or three drawings ready before October started, just in case.

About five days before the challenge began, I found a reference image that inspired this drawing. I decided to try a different technique for rendering the skin. I knew the effect I wanted — but not how to achieve it.

I started with the basic structure: large shapes and a few key lines, softly suggested. But I couldn’t figure out how to bring the image to life. I got stuck for days. Every solution I tried felt too familiar. I spent hours just staring at the half-built image. Some remnants of those failed attempts are still visible near the top of the head.

I’d start and stop, again and again. Eventually, I gave up on the idea of posting daily. My Inktober plan fell apart.

But once the pressure was gone, the drawing finished itself. I regretted not completing the challenge, but I’m proud of the result. It’s one of the most accomplished pieces I’ve made.

And honestly? One drawing per day… it’s an impossible challenge.



🎨 A Brief History of Artistic Drawing: From Fire to Touchscreens ✍️

KimJungGi displaying his ink signature: large scenes, without a prior sketch.

Artistic drawing is as old as humanity itself. More than 30,000 years ago, someone traced with charcoal in the Chauvet Cave (France) or Altamira (Spain). They created the silhouettes of bison, hands, and deer. They didn’t call it art—but they were drawing the world.

In ancient China, masters like Gu Kaizhi (4th century) used brush and ink on silk to depict human figures. They illustrated landscapes with a unique poetic sensibility. Meanwhile, in Japan, centuries later, artists like Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849) emerged. He explored drawing as a form of printing. His famous Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji reflects his contemplation in art.

In the West, drawing became a pillar of artistic education during the Renaissance. Leonardo da Vinci, through his anatomical studies and machine designs, transformed drawing into a tool of knowledge. Michelangelo, on the other hand, sketched figures with almost sculptural power, preparing the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel.

Later, Rembrandt mastered chiaroscuro with pencil and ink, while Ingres displayed elegant precision in his portraits. In the 20th century, artists like Egon Schiele and Pablo Picasso broke away from academic norms. They demonstrated that expressive lines could be more powerful than perfection.

Today, drawing has migrated to the digital world. Artists like Kim Jung Gi (South Korea) amazed the world with their prodigious visual memory. They created complex scenes without preliminary sketches. Artists from every corner of the planet now share their work on social media. This restores drawing’s place as a universal language.

🖼️ Drawing isn’t dead. It has simply changed its skin. And it keeps telling our story—line by line.

Famous quotes

old tree in pampas

I want to leave you with three famous quotes from three enlightened people about art.

Without art, life would be a mistake.
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

What is art, if not a way of seeing?
Thomas Louis Berger (1924-2014)

If it is absolutely necessary for art or theater to serve any purpose, it will be to teach people. It can highlight the existence of useless activities. It is essential that such activities exist.
Eugene Ionesco (1912-1994)

As you can see, the first and third are practically the same. Ionesco is more resigned; Nietzsche forgets that it is in human nature to correct the mistakes he finds.

When the Imagination Goes Blank

face in red color

Image and imagination are opposing concepts.

It happens rarely—but when it does, it’s unforgettable.
That eerie feeling that you’ll never again come up with anything to fill a blank page.
And every creator—musicians, writers, visual artists—has felt it at some point.
At that moment, you’re convinced there’s no way out.
It seems like you’ve reached the end of your creative mine, drained of all precious stones.
In my case, drawing portraits from pure imagination should protect me from that.
But it doesn’t.
Even when I use public domain photos as loose inspiration, the void still creeps in.
Sometimes I forget how to draw a nose—or curls, or eyes—and I wonder if I ever knew.
The only remedy I’ve found?
Grab the pencil and start drawing—without thinking.
You begin with a vague idea, and that idea evolves as the drawing grows.
Step by step, the focus shifts. Even the meaning of the image can transform.
It’s movement that defeats paralysis.
So if you feel stuck, don’t wait for clarity.
Start with chaos.
The hand moves, and the mind follows.
That’s how the image comes to life—and imagination returns.

I Just Draw

Thinking draw

Some people ask me what I do. I say: I draw. They ask: What do you draw? Drawings. It sounds like a joke.
Then I pull out my phone, show them my website. Their response is always the same: “Oh.”
As if they’re saying, “Right, I get it.” But I bet they don’t. Next comes the classic: “Are you an illustrator?” And I say no. I just like drawing. So I draw. Before that, I did photography. At first, plain photography—vernacular, just recording what was there. Then I shifted into surreal photography. Then, briefly, digital painting.
Until finally, I landed in drawing.

Whether drawing is a form of art is up for debate, I think.
If a banana taped to a wall sells for millions, there’s plenty of room. Drawing should be acknowledged as art. I’m sure it’s not that simple for critics, who must theorize, analyze, and classify.
But that’s not my concern.
I just draw. I do what I want.
Let the world figure out how to label it.

If you want to understand what I do, don’t ask me. Go see it.
Visit my website and decide for yourself.