In his book on creativity, legendary music producer Rick Rubin wrote, “Living life as an artist is a practice.” For PureHoney artist of the month Abigail Ervin-Penner, that practice is a lifeline. The Lincoln, Nebraska-based illustrator spends 4-10 hours a day drawing what she calls “monster girls” — not as a dalliance, hobby or side job, but as a means of navigating both her internal and external realities. “Illustration and poetry are what drag my soul in every direction,” Ervin-Penner tells PureHoney. “They pull me out of any abyss I find myself in.”
A formerly “super devout Catholic” who turned away from the faith, and a college dropout whose health issues derailed her pursuit of a fine arts degree, Ervin-Penner describes an existence of seeming opposites: A “nurturing artsy family environment” at home, on the one hand, with a loving husband who helps manage her career; and “crippling mental and physical illnesses” on the other, in a field where economic precarity is the norm. These conflicting dynamics, in combination, “drive me to keep creating,” she says.
Stylistically, her prints, posters, and clothing feature deceptively cute monsters depicted in bright colors with delicate tracery and borders paired with poignant text that feels both whimsical and deep. In one work, disembodied, devilish monster heads float above a reptilian pink creature with eight eyes, and above the words “I was scared until I became fearsome, too.” A woman’s face — maybe the artist’s avatar — peeks out from inside the lizard creature’s mouth, suggesting more a woman in a costume than a monster finishing its meal.
The foundational texts for Ervin-Penner’s style are gothic children’s books or empathetic storytellers like illustrator Oliver Jeffers. “My biggest inspiration in terms of my illustration style is definitely Maurice Sendak, she says, referencing the acclaimed writer and illustrator of Where the Wild Things Are. “I’ve always identified with Max, just a kid trying to break away and be wild. But my illustrations of monsters and ‘monster girls’ have more to do with the monsters that reside within.”
This is perhaps the key to Penner’s popularity: her work is less spark and more grind. She isn’t creating daily to achieve perfection; she’s subsuming her personal demons in more palatable figures. In ancient mythology, the naming of a demon gave you power over it.
“I struggle with anxiety, depression, truly crippling ADHD, along with a slew of physical illnesses (spondyloarthritis, vasovagal syncope, EDS, etc. etc.),” she says. “These illnesses tend to make me feel less than human. And I know that I am not the only person in the world with them, so I like to draw something that everyone can relate to, regardless of identity. We’ve all got monsters.”
“Truthfully, I would not consider myself a ‘successful artist,’” she says. “After talking with my friend Brian [Coate], a painter in Lincoln, Nebraska, the most pressing issue for artists is that people don’t want to pay for art. It’s not a new revelation, it’s a story as old as time: ‘The Starving Artist.’ I am successful in the way that it is my only income, but even now, I’m taking odd jobs and doing the most random shit to make ends meet.”
Penner’s artwork falls within a growing genre of the aesthetically cute image with teeth. Flowers, doll-like figures, and cozy interiors set the stage for pithy and vulnerable quotes like “You cannot frighten me, I am my own horror.” With 83,000 followers on Instagram, her aesthetic is well-received but she cautions that “having an established following doesn’t mean you’re making money.”
She has thoughts sometimes of putting aside the constant pursuit of follower counts, e-commerce traffic and maximized visibility to engage with people more intimiately. She loves working with bands, and names Julien Baker as a wish-list collaborator: “Everything about her songwriting and lyrics just grabs my heart and rips it out of my chest.”
“I have this dream of doing a show of all these self-portraits I’ve done and reading a small book of poems I’ve written,” Ervin-Penner says. “I think it would take like 30 minutes total but it would be so amazing to share my words and the way I view myself, selfishly, to see if there’s anyone else who could tap me on the shoulder and be like, ‘Same, girl.’ ”
View and purchase her work at abigailep.com
@abigailepenner on Instagram ~ Kelli Bodle
