Other than some field sketches, I haven’t drawn anything in a year. I signed off Wild World on July 28, 2023, and since then it’s been all business.
It’s hard to believe a year has passed. The launch was an unrelenting rollercoaster. For 6 months I lived on adrenaline and instinct, afraid to rest in case it all overwhelmed me. I’d strived for this for years and I was determined to meet the moment.
Huge decisions to make, daily. Final proofs on a map I’d poured my heart into. The biggest print orders I’d ever placed. An email inbox bursting at the seams. My apartment transformed into a map factory. Live interviews to millions of people on radio and TV.
It was thrilling but I emerged exhausted, just wanting to retreat to the mountains. Instead, I’ve been busy with the demands (and opportunities) of a growing business.
During this time I’ve often felt driftless, unfocused, uninspired. The passion that normally infuses my work has been absent. And whenever I search for reasons, the same answer keeps echoing back: I’m not creating art!!!
I always wanted a successful business with my art, but that’s never what really motivated me. Making art is what motivates me. This business exists to support the creations, not the other way around.
Then I finished Wild World, and my core, anchoring sense of purpose for 3 years vanished. That most wonderfully clear of objectives – draw a huge map – was gone. And it left a vacuum.
So, to restore passion to my work, do I just need to resume making art? Is it really that simple? My advice to other artists here is usually YES. I know that the tidal patterns of one’s creative muse are mysterious and unpredictable, but artistic inspiration isn’t only a mystery. It’s also a habit. And like any other habit, it needs repetition to grow.
Show up and see what happens!
While visiting New Zealand recently, I finally broke through the stasis. Deep in native forest, far from phone reception, I began filling my journal with field sketches. The enchantment of creative captivation returned within 5 minutes of holding the pencils. I was euphoric!
So in this spirit, I’m now engaged in another exercise: drawing a Wild World: Europe cartouche.
Cartouche’s are the decorative emblems on maps and globes, often containing the map’s title, legend, scale, and publication details. I love drawing them – for a cartographer, they are rare opportunities to unbuckle from the dictates of geography. They’re canvases for testing ideas, all while evoking or summarising a broader story – not unlike an album cover.
Such is my enthusiasm that I usually get carried away. 2019’s North America: Portrait of a Continent cartouche took 150 hours to complete – it is North America deconstructed into a sprawling phantasmagoria, framing a physical map in the same projection.
North America took 5 years to complete, and I felt it deserved a significant cartouche. But mainly I was just having too much fun. The map was about to finish and I wasn’t ready to let go. So, one last soar across its expanse – from the Grand Canyon to Teotihuacán, the Empire State Building to polar bears.
After this I began Wild World. As that 3-year map unfolded, I began releasing prints of completed continents – something for people to enjoy while waiting for the entire planet. Each continent has a vast range of details, and it’s nice to enjoy them as standalone works.
Two continental prints were released, Wild World: Australasia and Wild World: North America. Each time, I drew a cartouche and placed it on the map – something special to give it its own identity. As usual, I would go all-in:
Then I completed Wild World, and its cartouche took a different path. I wanted to evolve beyond the established format – a map framed by Earth’s details – and go deeper. To completely blend a map with fauna, flora, and landscapes. To make them one.
And so emerged an illusion. A world map hidden amidst the negative space left by Earth’s wild places:
Look to nature, see the world. I love this blend of map and animals. It channels principles from Wild World: that nature is the foundational layer of reality. That the deepest character of a place is in its natural heritage. That anthropocentric maps can obscure our connection to the natural world. That we are one with the rocks, trees, and animals.
Look to nature, see the world. And there it is, in the open space between gorillas and condors.
Which brings us to the present day! As part of my creative rehab, I decided to draw a cartouche for Wild World: Europe. As with the other continents, it involves a wheel of icons from across its natural geography.
First a polar bear, the great hunter in the north, a nod to Norway’s Svalbard. Seljalandsfoss (an Icelandic waterfall) plunges behind a salmon, while a puffin looks across the Jurassic coast. England is no longer in the EU, but it will always be European in geography.
The Matterhorn anchors the next part, a peak that could be argued as the most recognisable in the world. Mont Blanc is the highest in the Alps, but the Matterhorn evokes so much mood and grandiosity. And the Edelweiss flower – a totem of alpinism – grows across the Alps and Carpathians.
What a joy to be drawing again! To follow little breadcrumbs through the forest as something new and beautiful emerges from the movements of your hand. A blank sheet of paper springs to life. I forgot how organic the process feels – it seems to happen without me thinking about it. Without question, this is flow state.
What a joy to be drawing again.
There is a fox and a badger – hallmarks of European fauna. And I drew an iconic amphibian left of the Matterhorn, a fire salamander. It’s good to have balance across the animal kingdom, it’s easy to get overly focused on mammals.
A fire salamander is on Wild World itself, curled up in France. In fact, all of these animals are on Wild World somewhere, including the Alpine ibex with its wonderful great horns. Few species evoke Europe’s mountain majesty more, and it frames the Matterhorn as one does on Wild World.
One must never forget the ocean, so I drew an oceanic manta ray. I love the unusual pairing of manta ray and Matterhorn, it evokes the soaring superhero of a fish that it is.
And finally, the Picos de Europa in Spain’s Cantabrian mountains. A monumental wall of rock, they introduce the Iberian Peninsula. Which I’m in the process of drawing! Next up is a European adder, and an Iberian lynx gazing to the Rock of Gibraltar.
Well, this is just too much fun. Of course I’ve been unhappy since I stopped drawing – quite simply, this is one of the things I enjoy most in life. I’ve missed how fun it is. Life is many things, but amidst all its complexity you must try to have fun. And for me, casting my eye across geography, putting a pencil to paper, it’s more fun than a kid has at Disneyland.
So I’ll keep on with this Europe cartouche and beyond, and always have pencils and paper near me. I love drawing too much. I love mapmaking too much. I love what it teaches me about this world of wonders.
Until next time,
-Anton
Wonderful ❤️
What a joy to be taken along the cartouche journey 😍