This is how I build worlds with Illustrations

Hello folks,

Welcome back to another update on The Thousand Arms.

This month felt significant in that I presented the project publicly for the first time at Eyemyth Festival, and somewhere between that presentation and returning to the table, something shifted. It might have been the positive response from everyone. But the work has started to feel a lot more real.

After the presentation a few people came up and spoke to me about their relationship with addiction. And it was insightful to say the least. One of these gentlemen have agreed to meet me over the next week. (More on that when it happens)

But as far as the visual development goes. The art keeps revealing things about the world, and about me (that I didn’t consciously plan for), and my skills. I feel a lack of ability to really experiment and translate the concept at this point.

Not that, that is a problem. But it’s annoying.

Side notes
— 1/ I’ve also started posting parts of the worldbuilding process on Youtube. For now, there’s no voiceover (Audio issues, et all). Though, I have a feeling that even with the audio working and the content might still be incoherent. haha

— 2/ I have sent this illustration for a test print on an oversized teeshirt. Fingers crossed. Will update on that next week.

Now, let’s begin.

Illustration is for undisclosed chapter — ‘Now Half Ashes Burn’

When I began working on this illustration, I thought the problem was simple; how do I visually capture a moment of collapse without making it look dramatic for the sake of drama? I started by tightening the composition, centering Satori behind the glass, controlling the lines, keeping everything balanced. But the more I controlled it, the more lifeless it became. So I loosened the structure — introduced fracture, distortion, movement. That solved the stiffness, but created a new issue: chaos without intention. Am I illustrating a scene, or was I building a psychological state?

Let’s find out.

Here, I began with a simple thumbnail of Satori hidden behind a glass. In the earliest sketch, he was holding a guitar. And though, it felt poetic it also felt a little excessive.

I liked Option 01, but it was felt a little too stable for what the image demanded. It had the feeling of a book cover; composed, centered, polite. Ordinarily I would have gone for that sort of composition, but here I wanted to something more dynamic.

The Thousand Arms is not polite.

In worldbuilding, I have come to realise that the first instincts are often too safe.

From the base sketch, I overlaid the idea of a fractured image. A broken mirror. Thematically, it made sense. Satori isn’t whole. His world isn’t stable. Fragmentation feels honest in his context. His thoughts and his image are broken. (This is where worldbuilding becomes visual language. I am not just designing an image. I am trying to design a metaphor for a system. ‘Symbols’ if you will.)

Moving on, I explored multiple broken mirror patterns. Design is often about restraint. Most variations didn’t work. Some were too decorative. Some too chaotic. The closest one to feeling “right” was still not entirely resolved.

But iteration matters, you know. Over the years, I have come to realise that concept art is less about talent and more about exhausting possibilities. haha

Once I locked in a grid, I began adding rough forms. I told myself I would respect perspective.

I did not!

At some point, intuition overruled geometry. That’s something I’ve learned repeatedly in visual storytelling, structure drives confidence, but emotion drives direction. And to accept that has taken me a long while.

At one point, I considered making Satori a puppet. If alcohol controls him, maybe he literally has joints. Maybe he’s being manipulated.

It’s a compelling idea I think. But visually, he started resembling Pinocchio. That diluted the worldbuilding and introduced a cultural reference I do not want. I think this goes into the complicated nature of symbolising ‘alcoholism’. It is so easy to refer to it in negative connotations, but at the same time, it is a human being going through experiences. And one of my goals with the project is to look at it in as impartial a light as possible. To detangle the person in a way that alcoholism becomes a symptom and not outcome (More on this in another post).

As the details evolved, I loved the swirling fire erupting from his hands. But the empty space on the right side kept bothering me. Negative space is powerful, but this wasn’t intentional. It felt unresolved. Like the composition had stalled.

I shifted the flow of the composition move left to right. Even though it opened another space on the right, the energy feels more directional. More dynamic.

I tested flat colours. I liked where the palette was heading. Very ‘heaty!’
But the itch to explore continues since this is the exploration phase. The world of The Thousand Arms is messy. Drunk. Fragmented. And this might not be where it was at.

It was here that I went down the rabbit hole of exploring woodcut etching and pen and ink drawings that I shared before. So next I started trying a different style altogether.

This is a total experiment and mostly I am unfamiliar how to make this work. Though, I like this, and the image above a more then the final image I have right now.

The etched linework give the image a lot more energy and instability. The kind of “drunk line” energy I’ve been chasing in the art direction. This might be a stylistic and philosophical choice going forward.

At this point I reintroduced the broken mirror overlay but the composition changed immediately. The illustrative device makes the image feel less illustrative and more psychological. And chaotic. But in this version I have controlled it badly. And that is a learning for me. I think instead of making the fracture enhance the image, it has muddied the concept entirely.

Speaking of worldbuilding, here is another detour along the journey. I removed the mirror and tried layering smoke to close the white space.

It obviously failed in my opinion. The visual feels stiff. Flat. And overworked. There’s a point in the concept art process where adding more reduces tension. I think this is an example of crossing that line. haha

Here I tested multiple broken glass variations and aspect ratios. The illustration isn’t just for the story. It needs to function as a Chapter header, Thumbnail, T-shirt print and Digital asset. And in that it needs to work.

Now to close the current version. I sharpened the composition so everything points toward the glass. But the hands have almost disappeared. This has become a different image from where I started. And though I love evolution, and serendipity and all that. This here is an example of drifting in search of light.

I’m torn. Do I go excessive? Saturated? Chaotic? Or stay restrained in the red-yellow zone?

I don’t know yet.

And, ladies and gentlement, that uncertainty is the essence of being an artist!

I deviated heavily from the original thumbnail. Had I stayed with that initial broken-glass etching, the outcome would be completely different. Ironically, I still prefer aspects of that early sketch. It captured the “drunk line” quality more naturally. But all in good time.

I’ve given myself until the end of June to experiment with the aesthetic as I draft the book. Once I have a bank of explorations, I can step back and identify the emerging system.

Right now, I’m also tempted to explore a painterly style. It’s tougher for me. Slower and less scalable. And tougher to print for cheap.

But I am going to try. If nothing else, I might become a better painter in the process.

For now, this is where the world stands. Alive. Fragmented. Still arguing with me. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.