Once again, I find myself in that familiar season—searching for work while continuing to pour my energy into my art. It’s a balancing act between the practical and the passionate. Charlee, my partner, suggested I pick up a book to help take my mind off the constant pursuit of creative opportunities. I usually gravitate toward books that teach me something—recent reads include Mastery by Robert Greene and Design Thinking for UX Beginners. But this time, I agreed to shift gears.
We headed to Barnes & Noble, where I had a $25 gift card burning a hole in my pocket. I started in the fiction section, hoping something would jump out. Nothing did. I wandered over to the manga shelves, on the hunt for Kaiju No. 8 Vol. 9, but no luck. Eventually, I gave in to the inevitable pull and headed straight for the art section.
That’s where I found The Art Thief by Michael Finkel. I’m now on Chapter 9, fully immersed in the wild world of Stéphane Breitwieser and his equally compelling girlfriend. It's a strange, fascinating read, an exploration of obsession and delusion.
While standing in the checkout line, something unexpected caught my eye. Behind me, on a display shelf filled with quirky white hippo-like characters, was a sign that read: MOOMIN. The display was filled with books, plushies, water bottles, even socks—all branded with this mysterious aesthetic. I didn’t know what kind of animals they were, but I was intrigued. Naturally, I snapped a picture.
Who was this artist behind such a unique visual language? Were they still alive? Did their career follow a traditional path, or did they, like me, take the long way around?
That’s when I discovered Tove Jansson, the Finnish lesbian artist born in 1914 who brought the Moomins to life. What a pioneer. Creating such a whimsical, enduring world in her time must’ve required immense courage and clarity of vision. Learning about her life, watching interviews, and seeing how her creations expanded into toys, books, and cultural mainstays gave me a deep sense of comfort. I took that Barnes & Noble display as an omen. A message from the universe, saying:
"Keep going. Keep creating. Keep applying. Others have, just like you are now."
And so I did.
About a week later, I ran to Walmart to pick up a stapler for my sticker pack packaging. As I reached the checkout line, another sign found me—this time in the form of a Life Magazine cover featuring The Smurfs. The headline read: "The Joy of Being Blue." I made a beeline straight for it.
Inside was a detailed timeline and biography of Peyo, the illustrator behind the blue-skinned characters who, like the Moomins, had become pop culture icons. Another omen. Another nod from the universe. Another reminder that creating meaningful, whimsical, lasting work is a worthy pursuit.
And so I continue:
To write.
To draw.
To imagine.
To advocate for myself.
With gratitude for the inspiration, the strange signs, and the creativity I carry.