“We Should All Draw Without an Eraser” | Christine Ai | TEDxUNSW

The first line is always the hardest. Imagine this, you're in a luxury boutique, music playing clear, guests with champagne in hand, the scent of gardenia fills the air, and then there's you. You're sitting in the corner with a brush poised in hand, hovering over a blank piece of paper. Someone laughs, a camera flashes, and you realise you're in a room filled with people, waiting, watching you to turn that blank piece of paper into something beautiful. There's no sketch to trace, there's no control Z. When you're illustrating live, hesitation shows. The pen knows when you don't trust yourself. In that moment, you need to decide, do you freeze or do you breathe and trust that next line? That was me four years ago. I was 28 when I first started illustrating. Before this, I used to be a lawyer. I was doing that for six years. I worked in a law firm and I remember those days. I was surrounded by contracts, precedents and rules. There was no word that went unreviewed, no comma that went unapproved. Perfection was not optional, it was the job description. But between the footnotes and the fluorescent lights, I realised something, that I could change my future. I was living a life that I could edit. And you know what, then COVID struck and I started illustrating. I did it for fun at first. I remember watching the Met Gala one year and I saw this beautiful Versace dress, Kendall Jenner was wearing it. I wanted to draw it. I posted it online thinking nothing of it. And then the next morning, I woke up and it blew up. Kendall Jenner had reposted my work and what happened was the rest of the world saw it. I was receiving DMs from international brands, some of them saying, oh, are you in Sydney? Do you do live illustration? Honestly, at the time, I didn't know what live illustration was. I honestly didn't know who to talk to about it. And I didn't know how to reply. Opportunities were opening up for me everywhere. And I, at that point, realised I had a choice. I could keep doing what I was doing, accepting that paycheck, comfortable job. Everything was fine. Or maybe I could take this chance. Maybe I could see where this ride might take me. So I also thought, hey, there are plenty of lawyers out there, you know, brilliant ones, actually. I'm, you know, all right. But yes, I had that choice. So I left. But not because I hated my old life, but because of the chance that I got to create. I could experiment and I could be in the present. So somehow I went from my briefcase, and I traded it for a paintbrush. I went from writing legal advices in silence to live painting portraits in the middle of a Prada store. And I went from office cubicles to marbled floors, mirrored walls where guests clink glasses. And I treated that space like my own personal art studio. Honestly, it was felt like a dream moment. Soon I was being flown across Australia with Dior. And then to Milan Fashion Week, one of the most renowned fashion weeks of the season. But no matter where I was, whether underneath chandeliers or under the Italian sun, one thing remained the same. Every performance started with blank canvas. I needed to lay down that first line. When I first started illustrating live, I honestly prepared everything. I prepared the pens I would use, how long each sketch would take. I even tried to guess what people would be wearing. When I'm talking about which pens to use, I'm talking about 0.05 millimeters for facial features, 0.1, 0.2 for rest of the body. Yeah, I had it down to a T. That might be part of the lawyer in me trying to organize my life. I also tried to time the sketches, look through the lookbook, hope that they would choose, you know, look 32, 43. Draw that look, time it. But the truth is, you can't prepare for everything. At an event, something, anything can happen. The lighting changes, the guests move, the guests go somewhere, you can't even find them, you can't see them. You might forget that precious 0.05 pen of yours at home. Definitely happened before. Or maybe someone just bumped your elbow. Also has happened. But I remember at my first event, I was illustrating a lovely lady and, you know, that that one curve was too sharp. Her elbow tilted off and I thought that's it, that's ruined. And I panicked, you know. That day, I remember the paper that I was using, 300 GSM, incredible paper, looked expensive. It had felt on one side, embossed felt, mind you, and I had overheard that marketing had just received it flown in from Milan that morning. My heart sank. But you know, before I could actually do anything, put my hand up, ask for another sheet of paper, she said to me, the guest said, oh, that's so me. My heart felt so much better, firstly. And then I said, oh, okay, I'll just keep drawing. All right. So that day, I realised something, that she wasn't looking for perfection. She was looking for a connection, a connection with me, the artist, and to be seen in that moment. That's what I think live illustration is about, being able to capture the moment while you're in front of the guest. And I think that day, that changed how I saw my own art, and probably how I saw myself. So now, when I illustrate live, it's almost meditative. The noise, it fades. And the lines, they're less about control now. And they're more about trust. This is from a recent event that I've been doing with Dior. Each line now becomes quick, committed, and they're irreversible. And strangely, that brings peace. Because you're not thinking about much else. You're just being in the present. You're not thinking about, oh, I need to, I need to edit that thing. I need to erase it. You're just thinking about your next honest line. And it's funny, I think more and more people start to think about how they're going to present themselves. They edit themselves. How we like to portray ourselves online, what we say, what we do. But life, like art, there's no undo button. We only ever have this moment to make something beautiful. And I'm not saying that I'm perfect. No, not at all. I'm saying that, of course, not everything goes the way you're planning. At another brand event that I went to, I have another story. I was painting this gorgeous woman, she was wearing a beautiful dress, and I made a mistake. I dropped a splash of pink ink onto her dress. Oh, don't get me wrong, not her actual dress, but the drawing of her dress. And again, my heart stopped. I thought, you know, at this stage, it's okay, I can just start again. It's only on paper this time. Ordinary-ish paper. And before I could apologize, she said to me, oh, it looks just like a rose. You know what I did? That's exactly what it became. And so I turned that so-called mistake into something beautiful. That original splotch of paint was now the center point of that piece, of that artwork. And that accident taught me something that day, that I now carry with me. That sometimes the moments we try the hardest to hide are the ones that make our work unforgettable. Those are the things that make us human. So I'd like you now to do something with me, if that's all right. I want you to close your eyes just for a moment. And I want you to think about something that maybe you've been hesitant to start, something that might be sitting in the And it could be a risk you've been wanting to take, or a experiment you wanted to start, maybe a drop that you wanted to apply for, or a project. Feel free to open your eyes. Maybe you've told yourself that, oh, Kai, I'm not good enough. I can't do that. Or I'm not ready. I'm, I need like five more years before I could even think about that. But the truth is, we all start with an unsteady line. That artist, the blank canvas, or that entrepreneur with a blank business plan. Or maybe you're a student with a blank future. That fear of getting something wrong, that's universal. I've certainly felt that myself. So I want you to, this week, make that first step. Take that small step. It doesn't have to be big. And also, you don't need to know the full picture before you make something beautiful. Because trust, it doesn't come from knowing where you will go. It comes from beginning again and again, until you realize that beauty is not in perfection. It's in courage to begin. And the truth is, our greatest works and our boldest decisions often happen off the record. In those quiet, messy moments that nobody sees. That's where growth happens. That's where you stop tracing someone else's line, and you start creating your own. So I want you to leave today with whatever your canvas looks like. Remember, you don't have to see the whole picture to create something beautiful. You just need to trust your next line. Thank you.