About a year ago, i was working on a project I have always dreamed of doing, but found myself "not ready yet" for a long time. So in celebration of my first ever published illustration work, here is a little behind the scenes of my artwork in the self-development book Ignite Your Inner Spark by Alpa Kapadia Teli.
Illustrating a book is a deeply rewarding and enriching experience, especially when the subject matter resonates with you on a personal level. In September of last year, I had the opportunity to work with a trainer and coach, Alpa Kapadia Teli, who was writing her very first book Ignite Your Inner Spark.
This book focuses on discovering your true self through deep inner work, rather than superficial changes. As someone who’s always fascinated by self-help content and personal growth, this project felt like the perfect alignment of my passions and skills. Here today, I want to share with you my journey, insights, and practical tips for creating illustrations for a book (from someone how has just started out in this field 😊)
How the Project Began
The collaboration started when the author reached out to a group of coaches for an assignment. My mum was in that group and picked up her request - thinking that it was for a graphic design requirement she passed on the information to a fellow designer who eventually ended up recommending me for the job, which turned out to be illustrations. What a full circle moment.
She needed hand-drawn diagrams and illustrations to better convey her ideas and concepts. It was her first book and my first experience illustrating one, so we were both stepping into new territory. The aim of the illustrations was to serve as visual aids that complemented the text and enhanced the reader's understanding.
Scope of the Project
We agreed on a package of 20 illustrations. The variety of illustrations made it particularly interesting:
Recreations: Some illustrations were adaptations of existing images, some were stock images, some were previously AI generated images that were collected for this book.
Original Concepts: Others required brainstorming and building visuals from scratch.
Quote Designs: I also worked on re-drawing quotes to go along with the text of the book.
Infographics and Tables: These added structure and clarity to the book's content, and help guide some of the activities mentioned in the book.
Creative Process
Starting Point
My process for tackling the illustrations was rather intuitive. I began with the pieces that felt easiest, or resonated the most with me. For example, one of my favourite illustrations from the project was the buttress tree roots, and it was also the first one I completed. This approach of following what "called out to me" kept the momentum going and helped tackle creative blocks.
Grouping Similar Illustrations
Since the author was on a semi-strict deadline, I had the flexibility to choose the order of my work. I often grouped similar-looking illustrations together and worked on them consecutively, which helped maintain consistency and efficiency.
Style and Design Choices
Visual Aesthetic
After discussing with the author, we decided on a clean, monoline style for the illustrations, and the paper the book was going to be printed on was already slightly textured. Overall, we avoided textures to maintain simplicity and cohesiveness with the book’s cover design and overall tone.
To add depth and interest, I incorporated different opacities of black and grey in select illustrations. This decision proved effective, especially because the book was printed in black and white, and the grey tones added character without increasing production costs.
Challenges in Conceptual Illustrations
Some illustrations required creative problem-solving, especially when visualizing abstract ideas. For example:
Meaning-Making Machine
Illustration: Representing the complex process of how memories, beliefs, stories, etc are formed and how we assign meaning to them.
Whole and Hole Self: Depicting the idea of self-completeness and addressing internal voids.
These illustrations took the longest to conceptualize and finalize, as I needed to ensure that the visuals conveyed the intended messages clearly and effectively. I used Pinterest to gather some inspiration for how I wanted these visuals to look first, and then I went to my drawing board and tried to visualize how I would like to understand these concepts.
I trick I used here was to act as though I was explaining the concept to a child, how simplified and visually engaging can I make this> I tried to use visual metaphors wherever possible and keep the illustrations direct.
Key Takeaways & Suggestions
Having done this for the very first time, there are certainly some thing I learnt about myself and the process. Here's what I picked up:
Get to know the content inside out: Spend time reading and understanding the book before you start illustrating. Visualize, in your mind, the concepts you are trying to illustrate. The better you grasp the concepts, the easier it will be to translate them.
Build a strong connection with your client: Talk to the author regularly. Ask questions, share drafts, and make sure you’re aligned on the style and tone they’re envisioning through and through. This back-and-forth is may feel like a lot, but it is key to creating illustrations that truly complement the text.
Work smarter, not harder: Start with the pieces that excite you or feel easiest. This not only builds momentum and the confidence you need to keep going, but can also give you initial easy wins and fresh ideas for tackling the more challenging parts later.
Think about practical constraints: Always keep production methods and costs in mind. For instance, if the book will be printed in black and white, find ways to add depth using shades of grey rather than relying on colour, like I did for this book.
Take creative liberties (but communicate them!): Don’t be afraid to experiment and add your own touch, that is what your client has come to you for. Just make sure your client is on board with these decisions.
Be patient with abstract ideas: When working on conceptual illustrations, give yourself enough time to brainstorm and experiment. It’s okay if it takes a few iterations to get it right. Take your time in visualizing, journaling, talking through these ideas, or doing whatever you need to truly and deeply understand these concepts.
Stay organized: Group similar illustrations together and work on them in batches. This ensures consistency and saves you time switching between different styles or themes, especially if you are like me and have difficulty in getting your mind to adjust to change.
illustrating Ignite Your Inner Spark was a fulfilling journey that allowed me to merge my love for art with my interest in personal growth. It taught me valuable lessons about creativity, collaboration, and problem-solving.
For anyone looking to step into the world of book illustrations, I hope these beginner insights provide inspiration and guidance, especially if you are starting this journey yourself.
Whether you’re recreating existing visuals or crafting new concepts from scratch, remember that your illustrations have the power to bring stories and ideas to life. And that is something to cherish :)
you can check out the book here ~
Good luck and I will see you soon! Byeee <3
- nessart16
- Aug 18
- 4 min read
Welcome to The Roses in August, the eighth blog post in my 2025 Calendar Blog Series. Over the remaining months of this year, I’ll be taking you behind the scenes of each month’s illustration, sharing stories, memories, and reflections that continue to shape my creative journey.
For 2025, I created a collection that bridges my childhood art with my current skill level - I’ve revisited some of my old oil pastel drawings and watercolour paintings, recreated them digitally, and added reflective thoughts, messages, and affirmations that connect what they meant to me then with what they mean to me now. Each month is crafted with care, representing both the season and a personal story.
this month, i thought i’d switch things up and begin with the artwork itself. this is an oil pastel drawing i made back in one of my art classes, a simple study in learning to draw from real life. our teacher had placed some roses in front of us. no vase, no fancy setup, just roses as they were. the task was to really look, really observe, and then draw. and so i did.
what’s funny is, i don’t think the roses in front of me had thorns. but in my head, roses always have thorns. that’s what i’d learnt in school. so i drew them that way. i remember feeling a little self-conscious when i noticed the other kids hadn’t done that. maybe some did, i don’t remember.
technically, i guess i “failed” the assignment because i didn’t capture what was actually in front of me. but what i did capture gave me something else to take home. in terms of the actual art though, little ness went all out. I left the background hazy and unfinished (so artsy, right?), pushed the shading, and created what i thought was a very professional composition. whether it was “right” or not, i felt good making it.
this month’s theme is, at its heart, a letter to my younger self. a reflection on something i still struggle with today... accepting every part of who i am.
we all have pieces of ourselves we struggle to love. the quirks, the habits, the features we try to hide or paint in a kinder light. but i believe the real work of life is not just to tolerate these parts, but to fall in love with them. truly.
it’s easy to admire a rose when the thorns have been stripped away. “oh, such a smooth stem!” but rarely do we stop to wonder, what are we removing when we cut them off?
the truth is, thorns, or, more accurately, prickles, are not really flaws. they’re vital. they keep the rose safe from being eaten. they help it climb and reach for sunlight. they’re a part of its survival. and yet, when roses are harvested or gifted, the first thing we do is strip them away, as though they don’t belong.
isn’t that something we often do to ourselves? we hide the parts that feel “too much” or “too sharp” because we worry they’ll hurt someone else. but those very parts are what make us whole.
as a child, with my habit of naming everything around me and looking at inanimate objects as “people”, i would often wonder what the rose thought of its own body. did the petals say, “i make you beautiful”? did the stem say, “i hold you up”? did the thorns say, “i keep you safe”?
not every part is equally admired, but every part plays a role in making the rose a rose. and when i think of myself, i realise it’s the same.
i used to feel so self-conscious about my broad shoulders, my height, my long fingers, my slanted teeth. i felt frustrated at the little twirl my hands do when i get nervous, or the way i feel discomfort so deeply in a room that i couldn’t rest until everyone else felt at ease.
but with time, i’ve started to see those very things differently. i love that i care so deeply. i love that i feel deeply. my anxiety is my body trying to protect me. my height and shoulders make me feel powerful and strong, and, honestly, i look pretty great in a blazer. my long fingers and big hands have allowed me to create every single thing i’ve ever dreamt of making.
these quirks, these “thorns,” are not faults. they’re part of my design.
we are all roses in this vast, tangled garden. or maybe you’re not a rose at all.. maybe you’re a sunflower, a lily, a cactus, a lemon tree, even a rafflesia. whatever you are, you are you because of every part of you. the celebrated petals, yes. but also the hidden thorns. the pieces you love, and the ones you’re still learning to accept.
Stay tuned for September's story, and if you haven’t yet, check out my
2025 calendar collection to bring these illustrations into your home!
- nessart16
- Jul 31
- 4 min read
Welcome to The Lake in July, the seventh blog post in my 2025 Calendar Blog Series. Over the rest of this year, I’ll be taking you behind the scenes of each month’s illustration, sharing stories, memories, and reflections that continue to shape my creative journey.
For 2025, I created a collection that bridges my childhood art with my current skill level - I’ve revisited some of my old oil pastel drawings and watercolour paintings, recreated them digitally, and added reflective thoughts, messages, and affirmations that connect what they meant to me then with what they mean to me now. Each month is crafted with care, representing both the season and a personal story.
Sometimes, I have a hard time trusting that life has better plans for me. You can work and plan and imagine a very specific future in your head and still have no idea if that’s truly where you’re meant to go.
So many times, I’ve set my heart on a plan. I’ve convinced myself that it’s the only way something could work. But then, life steps in. Circumstances shift, plans fall apart, doors close and I’m left wondering why.
It can feel disorienting, like being pulled off a path I’d already committed to in my mind.
But when I look back, most of the time, those redirections weren’t detours, they were guidance.
In the moment, I couldn't always see it. I was too attached to what I thought should happen. But with hindsight, I realise now I was being rerouted toward something better. Something more aligned. Something I couldn't yet imagine. And now, I can’t help but be grateful that some of the things I once desperately wished for… didn’t work out.
This is a lesson I keep learning. Again and again. You do your part. You show up, you do the work, you paddle. But after a while, once you’ve put in the effort, you can lean back. You can float. You can trust the water to carry you.
Because the lake... this life, this universe... has a current of its own. It’s moving you, slowly and gently, toward where you’re meant to go. You may not know the direction. You may not even understand it. But the lake knows. It’s always known.
And yes, it’s uncertain. And yes, that surrender can feel scary. But it can also be beautiful. To just look up at the sky, to breathe, to let go, and just… float.
The illustration for this month has its own version of this story.
It was a turning point in my art journey, though it didn’t feel like that at first. I remember sitting in art class, working on this oil pastel piece, and feeling completely disconnected from what I was making. The drawing felt unfinished. There were awkward white spaces and it just didn’t look or feel right, and I was frustrated.
I could have left it there. But something nudged me to try again. With a little encouragement from my teacher, I gave the exact same drawing another go. She demonstrated to me first, and then I tried again on my own. I approached it differently this time, with more attention, more curiosity, and maybe a little more heart. And somehow, it clicked. It turned out to be one of my favourite drawings.
What’s funny is, that pattern repeated itself. I redrew this same piece again when I worked on the digital version. The first time, I didn’t like the style. I had pictured a very specific flavour that I wanted to bring out in the drawing, but it just wasn't sitting right with me. I was starting to feel like the artwork wasn't something I'd create, like I was trying to be someone else. So I redid it. I approached it with a different lens, and followed my intuition and tried not to "make it turn out a certain way". And once again, it turned out better.
It felt like a reminder and confirmation of the message of this month: sometimes, things don’t work out the first time. Or even the second. But each version is part of the process.
Sometimes, the redirection is the lesson.
the first attempt and the second attempt (digitally), left to right
So this month’s message is this: Trust the lake.
Do your part. Put in the effort. But when it’s time, allow yourself to stop paddling. Allow yourself to float. To be led. Because maybe the current knows something you don’t yet understand. Maybe it's taking you somewhere better than you ever imagined.
Not everything you dream of will happen exactly the way you want.And that’s okay. Because sometimes what doesn’t work out is what makes space for something better. And like my little oil pastel painting, sometimes the second, or third, or even fourth version of something is where the real magic lives.
Stay tuned for August's story, and if you haven’t yet, check out my
2025 calendar collection to bring these illustrations into your home!
