Stirring Ideas to Life: Sirin Thada, Catapult Artist for May 2019

By leaving her job as a lawyer and taking a leap of faith to become a full-time illustrator, Sirin Thada says, “I was finally honoring a part of me that had been there all along.”

As part of our Catapult Artist program, Nicole Caputo, Catapult’s creative director, sits with May’s #CatapultArtist for a conversation on art, creativity, and the artist’s life.

What a month May was for our Catapult Artist program! We were absolutely thrilled when Sirin Thada agreed to be featured during the magazine’s celebration of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month. Her beautiful work sent ripples of excitement through inboxes and our all staff meetings as we shared her textured, joyous, layered art—each one was more considered and thoughtful than the next! Hearing about how Sirin got started and came to this life as an illustrator is an inspiring look at perseverance, dedication, and so much heart.

Nicole Caputo: Can you tell me a bit about your start as an illustrator? When did you know you wanted to be one and what inspired that and how did you begin? Were you creative as a child? Take us all the way back.

Sirin Thada: I’ve been in love with drawing since I was old enough to hold a pencil! But I had no idea what an illustrator even was until very late in my journey. Growing up in the suburbs of Baltimore, I was that introvert who always had her nose in a book and never left the house without a sketchbook and pen. I love my parents, but they had drilled into me from an early age that I had to become a lawyer. And, being young, feeling lost, and not knowing what else to do with my life, I did just that: I moved to New York City to do a dual degree through Columbia Law School and the Graduate School of Journalism.

Looking back, moving to the city also marked the beginning of me forging my own path. I graduated, passed the bar, became a lawyer at a big firm. I paid off my debt. I saved up money so I could quit, much to the horror of my parents. I spent the next couple of years just living life and trying my hand at lots of different things, like fashion design, swing dancing, rock climbing. I began to meet so many other professionals in creative fields and discovered another world I never knew existed.

Meanwhile, I had never stopped drawing. Drawing was my other half, my BFF who was always there for me, through thick and thin. When Tumblr was born, I started sharing my doodles regularly. Thanks to Tumblr, commissions started to roll in. The actress Olivia Munn was one of my first collectors and I’m eternally grateful for her kindness, generosity, and support. But I knew I was still a long way off from making it as a professional illustrator. I spent the next several years working full-time during the day managing a boutique and, at night, teaching myself art history and graphic design basics, diligently reading up on the field of illustration, experimenting with different techniques, taking classes in Photoshop and Illustrator, facing lots of fears and anxieties about money and freelance life, and of course drawing and painting every day with self-initiated projects.

Freelance work continued to roll in thanks to my amazing clients. I often collaborated with other talented writers, designers, artists and illustrators.I was delighted to have my creative circle grow with such awesome people. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for their friendship, support, and kind referrals. I met my husband, the love of my life, and, while we were still dating, he encouraged me to get onto his health insurance so that I could make that final leap. When I finally quit the day job and the security I had for ten years, I knew with all my heart that things were starting to fall into place. By taking that leap of faith, I was finally honoring a part of me that had been there all along.

Looking at your studio, I am really excited to hear a bit about the mediums you use and what your execution looks like from the start of your process to final pieces.

For editorial illustrations, I always read the art direction first. Then, I absorb the essay a couple of times, observing my reactions as a reader, scribbling notes in the margins. And finally, I mildly stalk the author online, to get a sense of who they are. To me, creating the illustration is about having all of these perspectives in my pot and stirring them to life.

Once a concept has been finalized with the art director, I start by laying out the composition with pencil on paper, and then I use watercolor to paint in certain elements. Then, I scan this into Photoshop as my base layer, upon which I digitally collage in more colors, patterns and textures. There is a spontaneity and luminescence to paint that just can’t be replicated digitally, and those are the qualities I adore the most. I’ve been obsessed with mixing my own paints too, as it makes the process feel even more magical. I love being surrounded by my little glass jars of powdered pigments, scooping the bright colors out with my antique demitasse spoon, and stirring in the binder solution.

I also have a treasure trove of painted scraps, discarded old works of mine, and other ephemera I’ve collected. Sometimes, I glue them directly onto the base watercolor painting; other times, I just scan them in and then digitally collage them with Photoshop. Finally, I play around with colors and layer effects in Photoshop until the balance of the composition feels just right.

Take us through us a typical work day.

The joy of freelance is that no two days are ever alike! I do like to get up early, around 6:00, and start my morning with a few rounds of sun salutations and a short meditation session. Then I treat myself to an oat milk matcha latte with a little honey. I read the news, check email. If a piece is due that day, this is when I give it a round of final edits. I find that there is nothing better than a night of rest, a chance to let things seep into my subconscious, and then waking up with fresh eyes the next morning, to give a piece that last go.

If my schedule permits, I go to yoga class around mid-day, then back home for another late afternoon session of work. My husband and I always make sure to have dinner together—it’s our time to catch up and reconnect. Nights are spent on my personal projects, reading, or sometimes working. Before I go to bed, I check in with my daily, monthly, and quarterly to-do lists, to make sure I can hit the ground running the next morning.

And of course, if I’m on a tight deadline—which happens from time to time—all that goes out the window. Then, it’s me at my desk in my pajamas, hair in a messy bun, hooked up to an IV of coffee.

We were so excited to have you as our artist for AAPI Heritage Month. Can you tell us a bit about your background and about your experience illustrating for the pieces featured this month?

My dad had just finished medical school in Thailand, when he learned about opportunities for doctors to immigrate to America. He was fascinated by the American Dream, that anyone who worked hard enough could achieve success. My mother was not as keen on leaving behind all of her relatives, but she was loyal to my dad, and so upon approval of their application, they set off for America with just one suitcase of belongings.

Thai last names are notoriously long, so “Phruithithada” got legally shortened to “Thada.” Eventually, my parents settled in the suburbs of Maryland, where my dad established his own private practice, and where my brother and I were born. In fact, a lot of my dad’s classmates also moved to the same area, so we became our own extended family. We celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas together with huge potluck feasts—roasted turkey and stuffing side-by-side with larb and kao moo dang. No matter that we were all Buddhists—Christmas became a part of our new life in America, a time simply to be grateful and merry with our loved ones.

Reading the pieces for AAPI Heritage Month was deeply moving, and, of course, made me reflect on how my own experiences were similar or dissimilar. Parts of my own story resurfaced in my memory, parts I hadn’t thought about in a long time. I had heard a little bit about the suffering of my grandparents and great-grandparents at the hands of Japanese soldiers during World War II, but there’s no one from that generation left today to answer my questions, and very little of that history is recorded.

There is so much I don’t know, and won’t ever know, about my family history. While working on Christine Hyung-Oak Lee’s column and reading how her immigrant parents planted Korean plants in their garden, I remembered how my mom also grew her own garden in the backyard, full of Thai peppers, Thai basil, and other herbs that, back then, weren’t available in any of the grocery stores. I recalled my own experiences with racism and discrimination as a child—and how, rather than feeling rightfully angry, instead I felt guilty, embarrassed, and ashamed of myself.

Back then, I often wished my name had been Stacey. Or Alex. Anything but Sirin. “Is it pronounced like ‘siren’? It’s so weird. Who would name their kid that?” I overheard a girl say this; she was in the row in front of me, speaking to her friend, as she singled out my name on the piano recital program with her finger. Today, I am so grateful for my name, with its Thai and ancient Sanskrit roots. It translates roughly to splendor, glory, radiance. It’s like a little gift of linguistic and cultural history. I’m happy it’s mine for life.

If you were to give advice for people who are not working as illustrators yet, but would like to be, what would it be?

Take time to explore yourself, your needs and limits, what motivates you and makes you feel fulfilled. Do you need to maintain a certain lifestyle in order to be happy? Will your ego allow you to have a day job while pursuing your art? Are you prepared for the ups and downs of freelance income? What kind of art do you find joy in creating? What existing commercial markets do you think your art could fit into? Are you able to accommodate other people’s design input, or is it important to you to have absolute freedom when it comes to your art?

Illustration as a career choice is not for the weak-willed. In the beginning, you might not always have the answers, and you might not always feel sure of yourself. You have to be open, patient and very persistent in trying many paths. But I do believe that at some point, you absolutely have to know you want it. That has probably been the hardest part of my journey so far—crystallizing my intention, and being completely fearless about it. It took me many years, with lots of twists and turns, but all paths brought me here. I truly believe that once your intention is crystallized, everything will work out, because you will find a way to make it work. There are many different ways and paths to being an illustrator. You just have to be brave and persistent enough to find your own.

Any books, films, art or anything else that has really moved you lately?

I’ve been surrounding myself with books more than anything else lately. A few of the reads I’m currently relishing: Lost Inwood by Cole Thompson and Don Rice, The Essential Yoga Sutra by Geshe Michael Roach and Christie McNally, All You Can Ever Know by Nicole Chung, Wilderness Essays by John Muir.

And the question I always ask our artists: What do you do to refuel your creative tank?

I get my ass outdoors! Whether it’s a day hike, or simply a walk through our neighborhood park, I love feeling the sun on my skin, breathing fresh air, soaking in beautiful views, and getting my body moving and the blood flowing. When I’m out in nature, admiring the diversity of life and remembering how ancient the earth is in comparison to us, it does wonders for revitalizing my soul, and putting everything into proper perspective.