Below is a screengrab of the vector paths that make the figure in the world card:
A question that I get a lot when people are asking me about pretty much anything I've drawn is "How big is the painting?" I don't think it's anything bad about the average question-asker that they think all art revolves around paint. I just think it's a simple ignorance, and usually, not their fault. I usually explain that there isn't an existing painting and that the design was done on my 13" macbook. Some of them go "AH!" and ask me more. Others go "oh." and I can tell some kind of magic was disillusioned. They aren't convinced there's much talent behind using machines to aid the task.
...actually I kind of hate painting....
I've turned down chances to do murals, portraits, prayer-candles, and a few other gigs for the simple matter that I don't paint. I don't think the side of an up-and-coming restaurant is the perfect opportunity for me to trial and error color-mixing on a large scale with something that dries faster than I can think. I've had some fun with watercolor in the past, but usually, that's to flesh out a doodle I've been working on. I have to say that if I'm not sketching (usually in ballpoint pen or mechanical pencils, both of which are considered artistic no-no's) I'm probably working with vector art.
I love it. It's not easy, either.
I would advise a critic of digital artwork to sit in front of any computer-aided drawing program with the intention of drawing something. It will become very obvious very quickly that there is nothing the computer makes easier without making something else harder. The same principle applies to using a computer that applies to using oil paint, or sculpting, or water color, or making a mosaic out of skittles - experimentation and discipline.
If I hadn't been bored out of my mind laying out point-of-sale artwork for beer companies, putting chrome flames on vehicle wraps, or typesetting country club newsletters, I probably would have never branched out into using the same programs to create original imagery. (I'd probably have a boat-loan by now, too, so I think that's a bullet dodged as well.) After a while, people would actually hire me to do the drawings instead of the layout, but I discovered I was far happier doing art for my own ideas. My point is, without years of working with certain programs, I wouldn't have the technical understanding to draw a rabbit man upside down eating an apple. More importantly, I have to give it a feel.
This is the desire for experimentation that anyone who wants to do something has. The oil painter has to figure out where the threshold is crossed when they are no longer smearing expensive goo and are creating an image, and the same goes for me as well as the guy with a million colored beads and a hot glue gun. The discipline comes in when you have to start over, go backwards, or go outside and get a clear head. That's the part that doesn't let us stop until we know it's good.