Description:40 episodes in. I talk about how this podcast stopped trying to be a “real” podcast and became what it actually is: a long voice note from the park. About consistency, judgment, portfolios, style, and why I’m done pretending.

Links:• Support on Patreon (Balboa Park tier – €3/month): https://www.patreon.com/graphicjournalclub/membershipPlease subscribe from a browser, not the app (especially on iPhone), so the full amount goes to the creator.

Where I was:Recording on my bike and then walking in Parc Charruyer, La Rochelle.

Hello, and welcome back to Balboa Park.

This episode was recorded while walking through Rome at sunset, after spending a few inspiring days in London. It starts with something as simple as changing the profile picture of the Graphic Journal Club… and somehow turns into a reflection on artistic identity, illustration, tattooing, social media, and the pressure of staying “on brand.”

If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re creating because you genuinely want to, or because an algorithm expects something from you, this episode might resonate.

In this episode

• From London to Rome: why walking has become part of the way I think and record these episodes.

• Why I never studied Fine Arts, and how choosing illustration shaped the way I make images today.

• A regret I’ve carried for years: feeling like I never learned to make art simply for the sake of making art.

• How visiting the Tracey Emin exhibition at the Tate made me question the difference between technical skill and emotional expression.

• Why I replaced the Graphic Journal Club profile picture with one of my rough daily self-portraits.

• The constant feeling that I still have to “prove” I know how to draw.

• How illustration school and years in tattoo studios trained me to create work that serves a purpose rather than work that simply exists.

• Technique versus expression: knowing how to polish a drawing… and choosing not to.

• Why I often realize I’m creating for tattoos, for clients, for products… but rarely just for myself.

• From photocopied zines to blogs, and from blogs to Instagram: how sharing artwork has changed over the years.

• The pressure of staying “on brand” online, and how algorithms quietly influence what artists feel allowed to create.

• Why I think creating for Instagram can sometimes become harder than creating for clients.

• A reminder that maybe I’m overthinking all of this… but also that these questions seem worth asking.

• The conclusion I’ve come to: I don’t want to choose between tattooing, comics, illustration, graphic journaling, or personal work.

I want all of it.

I’d genuinely love to know what this episode brought up for you.

You can always reply, leave a comment wherever you’re listening, or come join the conversation on patreon.com/graphicjournalclub , where you’ll also find the Graphic Journal Club, live Zoom sessions, behind-the-scenes sketches, self-portrait challenges, and the growing community around this project.

Thanks for walking with me.

See you in the next episode.

Hi my friend

Yesterday I spent an entire day wandering through the Tate Modern in London. I went to see the Frida Kahlo exhibition, then Tracey Emin, then Ana Mendieta.

I left overwhelmed because of a question that kept following me from one room to the next.

What makes some artworks feel so intensely alive?

In this episode, I walk through London while trying to answer that question.

I wonder whether being an artist is simply about making art, or whether it’s about something much more uncomfortable: allowing yourself to fully experience life, even when it hurts.

What if the real difference isn’t talent…

…but the courage to let your heart break?

It’s probably the most vulnerable episode of Balboa Park I’ve recorded so far. At one point I even forget the second thing I wanted to tell you because I become too aware of how exposed I feel.

Maybe you’ll recognize yourself in that feeling.

If you’ve ever kept yourself safe, protected your emotions, questioned whether you were a “real artist,” or simply wondered why some works move you to tears while others don’t, I think this conversation is for you.

🎧 Listen to Episode 38 and, if it resonates, I’d genuinely love to hear from you. Just reply to this email. Knowing someone is listening means much more to me than likes or statistics.

The self-portraits are below 👇

Yesterday’s museum visit inspired me to draw several self-portraits. I’m sharing them with you below this email.

Rather than choosing one, I decided to keep them together. They feel like different fragments of the same day.

☀️ Summer Drawing Room

If you’re looking for a quiet space to draw with other humans this summer, remember that the Summer Drawing Room is open on Zoom.

a shared room where we make things together.

🗓️ August 16🗓️ August 23🗓️ August 30

🕡 6:30–7:30 PM (Paris time)

👉 Zoom:https://us02web.zoom.us/j/87521981091

Meeting ID: 875 2198 1091

❤️ Patreon is becoming my real home

You might be receiving this through Substack because, a few years ago, I stopped using Mailchimp. I simply didn’t want to keep paying for another newsletter service, so Substack became the easiest solution.

But the more time passes, the more I realize that this horrible platform isn’t really where I want to build my community.

Patreon has slowly become the place where everything comes together: this podcast, the Graphic Journal Club, live Zoom sessions, behind-the-scenes sketches, challenges, conversations, and all the things that don’t really fit into social media.

If you’d like to support my work (or simply keep following it in one place), I’d love to welcome you there.

Whether you’re a free member or a supporter, Patreon is where I’m putting my energy from now on.

👉 Join me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/graphicjournalclub

Thank you for walking through museums, cities, doubts, and ideas with me.

and before we say goodbye this is the quote from Andrea Gibson I was talking about in the audio:

I don't want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there's gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts

See you on Patreon,

Nicoz