There’s that saying about a game of football — it’s a game of two halves.
That’s how I would sum up 2025.
It entered quietly. A stagnant start to the year. For those in my line of work, this isn’t entirely surprising. January is often relatively calm: enquiries and bookings for upcoming live drawing events usually begin to trickle in, but juicy briefs can be thin on the ground.
However, this initial stillness lingered for longer than was comfortable. January came to a close with nothing concrete on the horizon. February slowly ticked past. Each week, enquiries would float in… and then away again, silently disappearing into the ether.
The freelance anxiety of “What’s next?” is nothing new — it comes with the territory. For me, it fluctuates in intensity, but by February it had become a daily, persistent concern. What began as a gentle whisper gradually increased to a volume that was both disconcerting and distracting, rattling around my mind throughout the day.
Returning Momentum
Usually, these worries dissipate after the first job of the year lands. There’s a perceptible shift in energy: the cogs creak back into motion, the floodgates open, and work comes back to life. The joy of creating returns in earnest, bringing with it emails, Zoom calls, deadlines — and purpose. A to-do list replaces the omnipresence of stillness and questioning.
Thankfully, 2025 did eventually splutter into life. The second half of the year brought with it a familiar cadence, and despite the disconcerting start, it turned out to be a good year. As always, there were lessons learned and challenges to overcome. I think all years are rollercoasters — some more dramatic than others. Some are harder to pin down in terms of sensing what’s coming next. That was 2025. Perhaps due to the dubious start, I’m not sure I fully trusted what would be coming next.
Challenges and Growth
There were moments last year when even my tenacious spirit felt rattled, and my heart a little jaded. I firmly believe a rich, varied year that challenges us is just as valid as one that is professionally busy. There is growth in that — and growth is still a gain. Rarely comfortable, but needed, and lessons can be learned from being challenged; often, that’s where progress appears.
I’m not averse to stepping up or stepping forward. But we are human, after all. Endless wondering and worrying takes its toll. Big life questions start to flare up, and last year I noticed them appearing with a frequency that was genuinely startling. For the first time, I found myself asking — alongside many others (see Creative Boom article here)
“Is illustration dying?”
That’s an uncomfortable thing to admit.
Clearly, the landscape is evolving rapidly (see Design Week article on AI here), and so we must evolve too. Evolve or die, as the saying goes. New directions will be forged. Perhaps those paths will be harder to find or navigate at first, or maybe there will simply be fewer, leaner options. Who knows. But I, for one, am not about to throw in the towel just yet.
Choosing to keep going
To question a career built entirely on passion is both heartbreaking and terrifying. When I asked myself “What’s next?” I realised I didn’t actually know what I would want that to be. Every time I followed that loop to its end, I arrived at the same conclusion:
“This simply has to work.”
So that’s the attitude I’m choosing to carry forward into this new year. I won’t be playing it safe. Or quietly. Over the next twelve months, I want to make each one count. I want to look back and say — I did my very best.
Highs and Lows of 2025
I’ve allowed myself five of each. Stripping the year back to a lean list helps focus on what truly shaped the last twelve months.
Highs
1. Moving into a new studio — an ongoing love affair.
2. Drawing live at Westminster Abbey for the Royals. After such a job I’m really wondering if I will suffer from Live Drawing nervousness again.
3. Being signed by an Italian agent — PREGO!
4. Painting BIG — more space has allowed me to work at scale.
5. Visiting Japan — finally. (Although I did a lot of travel in 2025, all of it deeply inspiring.)
Lows
1. Losing my beloved dog, Oscar, in January.
2. Client ghosting. Just… no.
3. Missing out on a dream project that was fully developed and ready to launch — then suddenly pulled. What a shame…
4. Late payment that became very late. FYI: seven months is not okay. If you’re going to gush about how much you “LOVE” someone’s work, it’s worth remembering that studios, space, and materials are not free.
5. Being insulted at a live drawing event. There needs to be greater awareness of how creatives are treated and cared for in these environments. Some things are simply not okay. And as live illustration events continue to thrive, I think this needs to be addressed.
Final Thoughts.
From my many years of experience, one thing is certain: there is no such thing as a predictable year. Yes, there are traditionally quieter periods, and months that tend to kick off — but a lesson taken from last year is that even that is no longer guaranteed.
There is enormous personal and professional growth in not only making peace with this uncertainty, but in learning how to use your time well. Time will be the one thing you crave most when work is abundant, and the one commodity you can never claw back. There will also be periods when time feels like an unpleasant, overly familiar acquaintance you can’t seem to shake. That, too, is part of the journey.
How you approach it is what truly matters.
This career of drawing for a living — it is a deeply personal path, with unique paces, peaks, and valleys for each of us. Comparison will not help — it never does. Move into each year with a sense of wonder. And perhaps, when you wrap the year up, try an exercise like this one. Give yourself five highs and five lows, and reflect on what truly stands out.
“It will remind you not to sweat the small stuff. And of how very far you’ve come.”
Against twelve months of challenges, there will always be wins. Don’t forget that.
