We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Celia Tang a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Celia, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?

Overall, I am, yes! My greatest joy about being an artist isn’t necessarily creating the artwork. Instead, it’s meeting other artists and seeing what goes on in their brain. I enjoy learning what makes them tick and what gets them excited. Every artist, no matter what kind, brings something new to the table because anything someone creates is an amalgamation of one’s own personal experiences, preferences, and interpretations of the world around them. Often I leave interactions with other creatives with a deeper appreciation for something I hadn’t recognized before.  The human aspect of the artist community is what I love, and I’m not sure I can get the same thing elsewhere.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your background and context?

My name is Celia Tang, and I’m a Chinese-American fantasy illustrator for books, board games, and video games. To me, creating fantasy artwork isn’t only about making cool pictures with mages and dragons. At its core, it’s about figuring out the intricacies of each magical setting. What kind of magic is there? How does it shape the lives of the people inhabiting the world? What do the environments and its creatures look like? Are there even dragons at all? There are infinite unique stories waiting to be told. My job is to capture and enhance those stories through my illustrations.

Have you ever had to pivot?

I’m a result of what I like to call the “pre-med to artist pipeline”, which is where one attempts a bachelor’s degree in medicine before making an 180 degree switch into a creative field. I spent two years studying to become a physician assistant, and was admitted into a dual-degree BS/MS program that would kick me directly into a master’s program after my third year of undergrad. Surprisingly, my parents hadn’t forced that career path onto me as I was genuinely passionate about medicine.

Art has been a hobby of mine since I was very young. My middle school pastime was imagining characters (with magical powers, of course), weaving together a story, then bringing them to life through my drawings. During my first two years in college, I couldn’t stop thinking about improving my artistic skills, and soon the itch to practice drawing greatly outweighed my desire to become a medical professional. I knew that I wanted to create art full-time, but like many people, I didn’t know what career paths were available to artists, other than graphic designer and the infamous “starving artist”. It wasn’t until I joined an artist community on Discord that I learned about careers in the animation and games industries, and suddenly becoming an artist felt a lot more achievable.

I was sick to my stomach leading up to the phone call with my dad. Growing up, my parents would chastise me if they found me drawing in my sketchbook instead of studying, even if I completed my homework and had free time. But to my surprise, my dad instead told me, “If this is what you want, if you’ll work hard, and if it’ll make you happy, then you should do it. Being happy in your life is the most important thing, not money.” I immediately burst into tears.

The following year, I transferred to art school and haven’t looked back since. I’m immensely lucky to have my family’s support, especially coming from an Asian-American household where creative careers are often looked down upon. My younger self never thought I could be an artist full-time, but here I am! I’d like to think that little me would be proud of where I am today, and I hope I never take my journey for granted.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

Much of my art journey is spent fighting with the little demon in my head. Finding the confidence to share my artwork, allowing myself to experiment and have fun, and taming the voice in my head that tells me I’ll never be good enough. As a perfectionist, I want my first attempt to be my best and only attempt, and my brain isn’t so kind when it fails to meet my standards. It’s exhausting, and there’s little that I can do to stop it. In fact, most if not all creative people I know struggle with imposter syndrome. The saying “you are your own worst critic” is amplified twofold when it’s hard to detach my self-worth from the quality of my artwork.

The reality is that I’ll never be satisfied with my art. I can say with certainty that ten years from now I still won’t be happy with it. Even the most experienced artists believe their work could still be improved upon. A part of me dreads the never-ending imposter syndrome, but another part of me wouldn’t give it up for anything. After all, contentment leads to stagnation. In order to improve, I first need to recognize that I can do better. Half the battle is redirecting the self-criticism into motivation to practice and experiment. So instead of silencing the negative self-talk, I try to work with it and transform it into something that can push me forward.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://celiatang.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/yewberries
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/celia-tang-bb0220233/
• Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/yewberries