Category: Internships Blog (Page 1 of 2)

Reading the materials for our ethics unit made me rethink how I treat other people’s work. The Dr. Seuss v. ComicMix case showed how quickly a project can cross the line from inspiration into infringement. Even when the work seems playful or transformative, the courts can still rule against the artist. Seeing how much detail the lawsuit focused on—composition, lettering style, and visual “feel”—made me more aware of how small choices can become ethical problems. It reminded me that illustration and design are never separate from intellectual property law.

The Scientific American article on digital manipulation also stayed with me. It explained how easily images can be altered and how difficult it is to tell what is real. That raised questions about trust and responsibility. If my work can influence how people understand an event or a person, then I need to be honest about how I construct an image. Even in my own projects, I’ve taken liberties with reference photos in the past without thinking about how those changes affect meaning. The article made me more cautious about the choices I make when I work digitally.

These readings pushed me to look at my own habits. When I was younger, I sometimes used images from online searches without credit. At the time, I saw them as harmless placeholders. After learning more about authorship and ownership, I see how that approach disrespects the original creator. The Fairey “Hope” poster case reinforced that point. Fairey treated a news photo as raw material, but the court saw it as infringement. It forced me to face the fact that intent is not the same as permission. I now understand why clear credit, proper sourcing, and original work matter in a professional setting.

Working on Esperancita’s Mostly True Memoir has shown me that ethical design practices don’t always look the same across different types of internships. Because this is a fully illustrated graphic memoir, we never use stock photos, third-party images, or real trademarks. Every visual element is drawn from scratch. So instead of worrying about licensing or permissions, the ethical focus becomes how we handle reference images. I’m almost certain Sara has studied historical photos of her family for reference and inspiration, but not to just post as is. Nothing gets copied, traced, or inserted directly into the artwork. This approach aligns with the AIGA guideline that designers should avoid infringing on others’ property rights and use reference material responsibly.

Confidentiality is another major ethical factor in this internship. I didn’t sign a formal NDA, but we still follow the same standards outlined in AIGA 1.3, which says designers must treat certain work and client information as confidential. The memoir is personal and still unpublished, so Sara has made public on her website only the progress work she feels comfortable showing right now. There are other images from that memoir that are not publicly available and cannot be used, reproduced, or otherwise represented under any circumstances. This has shaped how I write these posts—focusing on what I’m learning rather than revealing narrative content or showing artwork that isn’t ready for the public.

Even though this internship doesn’t involve corporate branding, photo sourcing, or trademark use, there are still important ethical expectations. The work requires sensitivity to cultural accuracy and respect for real family history, In that sense, the AIGA standards apply just as much here as in a traditional design setting—just in a way that fits the nature of an illustrated memoir rather than a commercial studio.

Even though I’ve posted about different aspects of my internship and shared updates throughout the semester, I don’t think I’ve provided a full overview of the structure and focus of my internship. My internship this semester is with illustrator, author, and educator Sara Gómez-Woolley, who is currently developing her long-term illustrated memoir, Esperancita’s Mostly True Memoir. Unlike a traditional company-based internship, this experience is built around a mentor–mentee structure. Sara created an opportunity that aligned with my interests and growing skill set and shaped the internship around the real needs of her project.

Sara works as an independent artist, so her “studio” functions as a small, private creative practice rather than a corporate design firm. Her work spans children’s books, comics, visual storytelling, and long-form sequential narrative. The memoir I’m assisting with documents a Colombian family’s immigration journey in the 1940s, blending history, illustration, music, and memory. Her project has spanned over a 10 year period that requires detailed research, visual consistency, and typography that supports the emotional tone of the story.

My role has focused on hand lettering, research, and technical skill development, mainly in Adobe Creative Suite. Alongside the lettering work for the memoir, Sara asked me to strengthen my proficiency in InDesign and Photoshop, since both programs are essential to the production workflow of an illustrated book. Part of the internship has involved completing tutorials, practicing layout structure, and understanding how each program fits into the larger publishing process. This combination of lettering and software training has given me a much clearer view of what it takes to support a long-form illustration project from both an artistic and technical perspective. It also means I’m contributing to work that will ultimately exist in a published book, which is a rare opportunity at the undergraduate level.

Even though this internship doesn’t fit the typical structure described in our course guidelines, it has given me insight into how independent illustrators balance creative work and long-term project management. It’s a concentrated environment with real responsibility and it’s helped me understand what a professional illustration practice looks like behind the scenes.

Last week, I received news that my proposal for World War 3 Illustrated 2026 issue wasn’t accepted. I took it harder than I expected. I didn’t get emotional or anything, but I definitely ruminated over it for the rest of the week. I wondered what it could have been that made them reject it. You see, it wasn’t really the technical side of it all that is bothering me—it was the idea that the concepts themselves might have been rejected. Since my concepts feel personal, it was difficult not to feel like the rejection reflected something about me.

I talked about it with Sara, and she helped me understand the situation differently. She reminded me that rejection is a normal part of the industry, and that I can’t possibly know the reason behind their decision. It may have had nothing to do with the concept or the quality of the work. She encouraged me to remain professional and send a follow-up email thanking them for the consideration and letting them know I’d be interested in trying again next year.

Writing that follow-up helped me shift my perspective. Instead of seeing the rejection as something personal, I’m learning to approach it as part of the process; something every working illustrator has to navigate. This was a difficult moment, but it taught me an important lesson about professionalism, resilience, and keeping the door open for future opportunities.

Date: November 14, 2025

While working on the lettering for Esperancita’s Mostly True Memoir, I started to recognize a skill I never fully acknowledged: I genuinely enjoy hand lettering, and I’ve developed a real ability for it. It wasn’t a single breakthrough moment; it was a gradual process that I only noticed once I looked back at what I’d been producing. I’ve been drawing letterforms since childhood without thinking of it as anything special. Taking Prof. Maria Giuliani’s Advanced Typography class pushed me technically in ways I didn’t expect, sharpening my control, my eye for rhythm, and my understanding of how much intention goes into shaping every stroke.

This internship made that growth even more visible. Working on lettering for a real illustrated memoir and for other coursework showed me how far I’ve come and how naturally I gravitate toward this niche. It feels like I stumbled into a direction I didn’t know was available to me, and now I’m beginning to take seriously the idea that hand lettering and typography might be a true professional path. This realization has been one of the most meaningful parts of my internship so far.

Date: November 13, 2025

One of the biggest things I’ve been learning through this internship is how important clear communication is, especially when I’m juggling multiple projects at once. Between my classes, Senior Project, WW3 pitch, and internship work, things became extremely overwhelming. I realized I wasn’t always letting Professor Woolley know when I was struggling or falling behind.

Last week, I finally reached out and explained what was going on. Professor Woolley was extremely understanding, and we had a productive conversation about how to reorganize my workload. She helped me figure out what to prioritize and what could be shifted around, which immediately took a lot of pressure off.

This experience showed me that being honest early, rather than trying to push through silently, leads to better outcomes for everyone. I’m learning how to communicate more openly, ask for clarification when I need it, and share progress before things pile up. It’s a skill I know I’ll need in any professional setting.

Date: November 12, 2025

This week I spent time looking at 1940s lettering references to better support the typography for Esperancita’s Mostly True Memoir. Since the story takes place in that decade, I wanted to understand the visual style of the period instead of just guessing at it. Most of my research focused on mid-century sign painting, brush-script titles, and magazine layouts from the era. A lot of the lettering had a smooth, confident rhythm—tapered strokes, clean curves, and a balance of flair without becoming overly decorative. Studying those details helped me understand why Professor Woolley responded well to the brushed, flowing version of the title treatment.

This reference work gave me a clearer sense of how to approach the next iteration of the lettering. It helped me think more intentionally about authenticity, readability, and how the letterforms support the tone of the memoir.

Date: November 11, 2025

Today I worked on my pitch for the 2026 issue of World War 3 Illustrated, which will focus on “Animal Rights, Planet Wrongs.” Since I was featured in the 2025 anthology, Professor Gomez-Woolley thought it would be a good idea to work the WW3 Illustrated anthology into my internship—which I think is a great idea.

My concept is a relatively short fictional editorial sequence that critiques influencer culture and performative activism around animal rescue. I’m going to be proposing eight pages and I’m working on 3 three thumbnails so far:

1. A parody magazine cover showing an overly-cheerful influencer hugging a clearly sad cow.
2. A close-up of the cow, breaking the forced narrative.
3. A mock luxury ad for a handbag brand made from “the finest free-roam leather,” revealing the hypocrisy.

These sketches helped me clarify the tone and pacing. The idea fits the issue theme because it addresses the way compassion gets commodified under capitalism. Working with Professor Gomez-Woolley this semester has helped me think more intentionally about visual storytelling and sequence, which I applied directly in these thumbnails.

Next, I’ll finalize the written pitch and send it to the WW3 editorial team.

My creative routine during this internship shifts depending on what part of the project I’m working on, and we are still somewhat at the beginning stages of choosing the hand-lettering treatments for Professor Sara Gomez-Woolley’s graphic novel Esperancita’s Mostly True Memoir — a deeply personal story that demands both craft and sensitivity. After the I submitted the first iterations of the proposed lettering we should go with, I noticed I’ve developed a sort of rhythm over the past few weeks.

I usually brainstorm ideas for type by reviewing references from either Pinterest or similar sites, and pasting visual inspiration into a working board. For this project, I’ve had everything 1940s hand-lettered signage, to snippets of period sheet music. Once I had a sense of the tone, I sketched a few quick ideas for letterforms in pencil, sometimes just loose gestures to find a flow. From there, I whip out some grid paper so that it can help orient and compose things on the paper for me. This is where structure takes over: alignment, kerning, consistency, and testing how the type interacts with the illustrations and rhythm of the page.

I’m thinking about trying some of these ideas digitally, but I still feel most comfortable working analog—taking a break, coming back, printing drafts, and annotating them by hand. That pause helps me spot what’s working and what feels forced. The process is iterative, not linear. Every round of refinement teaches me something new about how lettering can carry emotion, movement, and even memory.

This semester has tested every part of my time management and focus. Between my internship with Professor Gomez-Woolley and 3 demanding courses: Advanced Strategies in Illustration, Character Design, and Senior Project Research, I’ve realized I may have taken on more than I can comfortably handle. Each class asks for deep creative and technical energy, and balancing them with internship hours has forced me to rethink how I organize my week.

At the internship, I’m learning the value of structure. Managing typography for Professor Gomez-Woolley’s illustrated memoir project has shown me that design isn’t only about vision, it’s also about discipline and pacing. That same discipline is something I’m trying to bring into my academic life. I’m learning how to break large assignments into smaller milestones, scheduling time for rest, and learning when to stop perfecting and move forward.

My biggest strength is persistence. Even when I’m stretched thin, I don’t give up on the quality of my work. My biggest challenge is overcommitment and saying yes to too many creative opportunities at once. But I’m learning that growth also means knowing your limits. As the semester continues, I’m aiming to streamline my workload and find a rhythm that keeps me both productive and healthy.