Some drawings don’t begin with a shape.
They begin with a word.

“Splendiferous” showed up first—one of those words that feels oversized, a little ridiculous, and full of energy. The kind of word that almost demands a character big enough to hold it.
So the drawing followed the word.

The eyes came in large and reflective, catching light like they’re seeing something wonderful just out of frame. Big eyes do something unusual in a drawing—they make everything feel more emotional, more immediate. There’s no hiding behind them.
Then the mustache. Wide, curved, and slightly dramatic. It adds weight to the face, something to balance all that openness above. Features like that aren’t just decoration—they’re anchors. They keep the character from floating away.

The nose stretches forward just enough to feel exaggerated without breaking the structure. That’s the edge you’re always walking in cartooning—push things far enough to be interesting, but not so far that they fall apart.

And then the color.
Muted tones, soft transitions, watercolor doing what watercolor does best—spreading, blending, and occasionally making decisions of its own. It’s less like painting on the paper and more like working with it.
The word sits underneath the face like a quiet introduction.

Splendiferous.
Not perfect. Not serious. Not restrained.
Just fully itself.