This post takes you through my whimsical illustration process, step by step, from rough sketches and color exploration to final digital artwork in Procreate.
It’s an inside look at my creative workflow as an illustrator, showing how each piece evolves from concept to completed art.
Someone asked me recently: “Where do your illustrations begin?”
It’s such a simple question, but it made me pause. Because the truth is, my illustrations don’t start on my iPad or even in my sketchbook. They start in the quiet spaces between other things: washing dishes, walking to the market, those drowsy moments right before sleep when the mind wanders freely.
That’s where the ideas live. In daydreams and “what ifs” and images that appear unbidden.
The Beginning: Catching Ideas Before They Disappear
Ideas are slippery things. They arrive suddenly, a flash of a character’s expression, a color combination, a scene that feels complete in your mind for just a moment before it starts to fade.
I’ve learned to catch them quickly.
I keep a running note on my phone where I jot down anything interesting: “sleepy cat in oversized sweater,” “girl reading to stuffed animals,” “rainy window with tea and books.” Some are single words, some are terrible sketches done with my finger on the screen, some are just feelings I want to capture.
Not every idea becomes an illustration. Most don’t, actually. But writing them down does something important – it tells my creative brain that these moments matter, that I’m paying attention. And somehow, that makes more ideas come.
Why I Don’t Start With References
Here’s something that might seem backwards: I deliberately avoid looking at references when I’m in the idea phase.
It’s not that references are bad – they’re incredibly useful, and I’ll explain when I use them later. But at the very beginning, I want the idea to come from somewhere internal and unfiltered. I want to discover what my imagination offers first, without being influenced by what already exists.
There’s this particular joy in the process of image-building that happens purely in your mind. You’re playing with possibilities, combining elements in ways that might be unusual or imperfect but are authentically yours. A character starts to develop personality. A scene begins to tell a story.
I love that process, the way an illustration slowly reveals itself in your thoughts, like a photograph developing in a darkroom.
When I jump straight to references, I lose that exploratory phase. I start solving problems with other people’s solutions instead of discovering my own. And while that’s faster, it’s less… mine, somehow.
So I sit with ideas. I let them marinate. I imagine them from different angles, try different compositions in my head, play with color palettes mentally before I ever put pencil to paper.
Moving to Paper: The First Physical Sketches
Once an idea feels solid enough, when I can see it clearly enough to explain it to someone else, that’s when I reach for my sketchbooks.
I keep several small notebooks scattered around my apartment: one by my bed for late-night ideas, one on the table in the living room, and one that always lives in my bag for when inspiration strikes on the go. They’re nothing fancy, just simple sketchbooks that fit comfortably in my hand.
This is where the illustration truly begins to take shape.
The Magic of Rough Sketches
These first sketches are always rough. Messy, even. Lines that overlap, proportions that are definitely wrong, elements that I’ll completely change later. But there’s something about putting pencil to paper that makes an idea real in a way that mental imaging never quite achieves.
On paper, I’m solving the basic problems:
- Composition: Where do elements sit in relation to each other?
- Proportions: How big is the character relative to their environment?
- Flow: Does the eye move naturally through the image?
- Story: What’s the focal point? What feeling am I trying to convey?
I’m not worried about details here. Just the bones of the illustration – the foundation that everything else will build upon.
Sometimes I’ll sketch the same idea three or four different ways, trying variations. Maybe the character faces left instead of right. Maybe the scene is closer or further away. Maybe there’s an element I hadn’t originally considered that suddenly feels essential.
This exploration phase in my sketchbook is forgiving. Mistakes cost nothing but a few minutes and a bit of paper. Ideas can be wild and experimental because the stakes are wonderfully low.
Why Traditional Sketching Still Matters
I could sketch directly on my iPad – Procreate has excellent sketching tools. But starting on paper feels different to my creative brain.
Paper doesn’t have an undo button. Every line is a commitment, which paradoxically makes me more free. I’m not fussing over perfection because perfection isn’t possible here. I’m just thinking through the illustration with my hands.
There’s also something about the physical act – the scratch of pencil on paper, the ability to rotate the sketchbook, the way I can see multiple attempts on the same page – that helps me think more clearly about what I’m creating.
Plus, if I’m being completely honest, it gives my eyes a break from screens. When you work digitally as much as I do, these analog moments feel like breathing.
Transition to Digital: Where the Illustration Comes Alive
Once I have a sketch I’m happy with, or at least one that feels like the right direction, I photograph it with my iPad and import it into Procreate.
This is the moment when the illustration shifts from concept to creation.
Setting Up in Procreate
I bring the sketch photo into Procreate and immediately drop its opacity way down, usually to around 20-30%. It becomes a ghost image, just visible enough to guide me but not so prominent that I feel locked into every decision I made on paper.
Then I create a new layer above it and start the actual line work.
This is where my illustration process becomes more deliberate and refined. I’m making choices about:
- Line quality: Is this a soft, organic line or a clean, graphic one? Thick or thin? Confident or sketchy?
- Refinement: The proportions that were approximate in my paper sketch get corrected. That hand that was too small becomes properly sized. The table that was wonky becomes level.
- Evolution: As I draw, the illustration often changes from my original sketch. A character’s expression might shift. I might add an element I didn’t originally plan. Sometimes entire sections get reimagined.
This is what I love about digital illustration, nothing is permanent until you decide it is. I can try something, hate it, and undo it without consequence. I can duplicate the whole illustration and try a wild variation without risking the original.
The Refining Process
Creating the refined line work is probably the longest part of my illustration process. I’m zooming in and out constantly, checking proportions, making sure elements relate to each other properly, adjusting until things feel right.
I’m also thinking ahead to color at this stage. Sometimes I’ll adjust the line work to create areas that will hold color well, or add small details that I know will look beautiful when I add shading later.
Adding Color: When the Illustration Starts to Breathe
Once the line work feels complete, I start thinking about color.
This part always feels slightly magical to me – how the right color palette can completely transform the mood of an illustration.
Choosing My Palette
I rarely plan my colors in advance. Instead, I start playing with possibilities directly in Procreate, creating small swatches and seeing what feels right for this particular illustration.
I’m considering:
- Mood: What feeling should this illustration evoke? Cozy and warm? Cool and dreamy? Bright and energetic?
- Harmony: Do I want analogous colors that blend softly, or complementary colors that create vibrancy?
- Character: What do the colors say about the character or scene I’m illustrating?
Sometimes I nail the palette immediately. Other times, I’ll get halfway through coloring and realize it’s all wrong, and I’ll start over with completely different choices.
This is where having everything digital saves me. I can create multiple versions with different color approaches and compare them side by side. I can adjust hues globally with a few taps. I can try that wild color idea without fear.
Building Up the Illustration
I work in layers… many, many layers, building up the illustration gradually.
First, I lay down flat base colors. Everything gets its basic color assignment.
Then I start adding depth with shading and highlights. This is where the illustration starts to feel three-dimensional, where light and shadow create form and atmosphere.
As I work, new ideas often emerge. Maybe this scene needs a window in the background. Maybe the character should be holding something. Maybe there’s a cat that wasn’t in the original sketch at all but now feels absolutely essential.
In one of my recent pieces, the raven and the little mouse appeared completely unexpectedly at a later stage, somehow, it just felt like they belonged there.
I add these elements as I go, letting the illustration guide its own evolution.
When I Turn to References
This is when references become invaluable.
If I’m drawing something specific – a particular type of flower, a vintage teapot, the way fabric folds – I’ll look up photo references to make sure I’m capturing it believably. Not to copy, but to understand.
How do the petals actually connect to the stem? What’s the shape of that teapot’s spout? How does that material drape and fold?
References help me ground the illustration in reality, even when I’m creating something whimsical or stylized. They’re the foundation of believability that lets the magical elements feel convincing.
But I’m selective. I look, I learn, I close the reference, and then I draw from understanding rather than copying directly. This keeps my style consistent and the illustration feeling cohesive.
Final Touches: Adding the Magic
The illustration is essentially done, but it’s not finished. Not yet.
This final phase is where I add what I think of as “the magic” – those small touches that make an illustration feel alive and special.
Adjusting the Overall Image
First, I step back (metaphorically – I usually just zoom out) and look at the illustration as a whole.
Does the contrast feel right? Sometimes I’ll discover the whole thing is too muted or too bright, and small adjustments to the overall levels make everything suddenly snap into focus.
Are the colors working together? I might adjust saturation, shift hues slightly, warm up or cool down different areas to create better harmony.
Is there a clear focal point? If not, I might darken or blur areas that are competing for attention, or brighten the area I want viewers to look at first.
These global adjustments are subtle but powerful. They’re the difference between an illustration that works and one that really sings.
The Details That Bring Life
Then come my favorite finishing touches – the tiny details that make an illustration feel magical:
- Texture and sparkle: Small highlights that catch the light. Subtle texture overlays that add richness.
- Atmospheric elements: Maybe tiny particles floating in the air, or a soft glow around light sources, or the suggestion of movement.
- Whimsical additions: Little sparkles, dots of light, small decorative elements. The kind of details a child might notice on their third or fourth time looking at the illustration.
- Droplets and splashes: If it fits the scene, these organic elements add spontaneity and life.
I work on a new layer for these final touches, often using brushes with interesting textures or particle effects. I’m adding just enough to enhance without overwhelming – seasoning, not the main ingredient.
These details are subtle. Many viewers might not consciously notice them. But they feel them. They’re what makes an illustration feel finished and polished rather than merely complete.
What This Process Teaches Me
Every illustration I create teaches me something new about my own creative process.
Over time, I’ve learned that I need that wandering idea phase, I can’t rush straight to execution without losing something essential.
Rough sketches have taught me that they save time later by letting me solve problems when mistakes are still cheap.
My best color decisions usually come intuitively rather than analytically, a reminder to trust my first instincts more often.
And those tiny details I add at the very end, almost as afterthoughts, often become my favorite parts of the finished piece.
Most importantly, I’ve learned that my process doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. There’s no “right way” to create an illustration. The right way is whatever produces work you’re proud of while keeping you creatively fulfilled.
My Process Is Still Evolving
The process I’ve described here is what works for me right now, today. But it’s not set in stone.
A year ago, I worked differently. A year from now, I’ll probably have evolved again. I might discover new tools in Procreate that change my workflow. I might find that I want more preliminary sketches, or fewer. I might develop a completely different approach to color.
That evolution is part of what I love about being an illustrator – the constant growth, the endless learning, the way each project teaches you something you can apply to the next.
For Those Curious About Collaboration
If you’re an author or publisher reading this and wondering what working with me might look like, this is it, this is my process.
You’d be involved at key stages: seeing rough sketches before I move to digital, reviewing line work before I begin color, providing feedback on color palettes and composition.
When a project is client-based, I can also start working with references from the very beginning. While I always stay true to my own style and never copy existing artworks, I completely understand that every client has a vision of what they’d like to see. That’s why I use references thoughtfully and remain open and attentive to your ideas and expectations, making sure your story and vision are truly heard and reflected in the final artwork.
But you’d also trust me to do what I do, to let ideas develop, to sketch and explore, to add those finishing touches that might not have been in the original plan but feel right for the story.
The best collaborations, I believe, happen when the author provides the vision and story, and the illustrator brings technical skill plus creative interpretation. Not illustration-by-committee, but genuine creative partnership.
If that resonates with you, I’d love to hear about your project.
You can view my illustration portfolio to see examples of my digital and whimsical art, or reach out via my contact page to discuss potential collaborations.
The Joy of Creating
At the end of the day, what I love most about my illustration process isn’t any particular technique or tool. It’s the simple joy of starting with nothing but an idea and ending with something that exists in the world.
Something that might make someone smile. Something that might become part of a child’s favorite bedtime story. Something that captures a feeling or tells a tiny story or just adds a bit of whimsy to someone’s day.
That transformation – from invisible idea to visible creation – never stops feeling a little bit like magic.
And I get to do it over and over, each illustration a new adventure.
Thank you for reading and for being here, it truly means a lot.
You can follow my creative journey on Instagram; your support helps me keep creating cozy, whimsical illustrations and sharing the magic of art with the world.