Sarah Ruyle approaches illustration and animation as acts of storytelling, where color, texture, and instinct gather into dense, living worlds. Blobs, little figures, wizards, and overstimulating shapes become carriers of feeling rather than declarations of mastery. Process remains central: hesitation in a line, intention in a brushstroke, time spent shaping a frame. In an era shaped by speed and automation, this practice insists on the human mark — on the worth of making something slowly enough for it to matter. Art here becomes archive and experiment, humor and nostalgia, secrecy and invitation all at once.

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Art is often chosen as a medium for its freedom. Why do you personally turn to art, rather than another form of expression? 

My art takes the form of illustrating and animating. I think I am a story teller at heart, even when my work is non narrative there are stories that emerge from it, whether or not I mean to. Humans have a tendency to search for meanings and connections in a way that creates a story, and I like to toy with those feelings. Being able to share the silly ideas that form conglomerates in my brain gives me (and hopefully others) a satisfaction that’s hard to find in other forms of expression, especially those that aren’t visual. It’s more rewarding to see my conglomerates than to feel their whispers in my brain. I’m quite drawn to colors, textures and feelings, and the creation of them in harmony- drawing and painting help me satisfy that itch. Getting lost in little worlds that come into forms on a page is such a mesmerizing and exciting activity. Besides the very personal reasons that I turn to art,  I also find that it’s to share with others, and often digestible by most people to the point where everyone can take away at least something from a work of art, whether or not they like it. Because it’s so approachable in that way, I like to make things that people want to talk about, even if they’re not “into art.”

How do you reconcile the tension between raw, innate creativity and the discipline required to master your craft? 

I honestly don’t think I have a lot of discipline when it comes to “mastering” my craft, but over the years I’ve come to terms with it. Letting go of making something that is constrained to a lot of rules (or some greater consensus of “good” art that follows a lot of rules) has been very freeing to me. While I may not be very technically skilled at anything I do, what’s important is that I enjoy doing it and that I’m having fun. I’m not too concerned if people are impressed by my work, I mostly create blobs and little guys and ridiculous shapes and colors. I mostly care that people think my work is fun and (sometimes) overstimulating or even shocking. Even with technical skills in efficiency (such as editing or compositing) I often struggle to see value, because efficient doesn’t always mean good- and can often mean lazy. I strive not to be lazy with my work, though it has come to haunt me in the past. The “discipline” perhaps comes more from practicing and the consistency in which I work, which I find very important.

In recent years, especially with school, I find that I work on something that includes drawing or painting almost everyday and that usually comes out of me wanting to rather than me feeling the need to. People often say things like making anything at all is better than nothing, or create now and make it look pretty later, and these are things I keep in mind when I draw. I care about being creative or making work that feels satisfying to me- I have this belief that that’s what makes my work real and relatable to others. At the end of the day I don’t care about being “good” at art or what I do, I care about being thoughtful and imaginative. 

What do you think is the most meaningful role an artist plays in society today? 

I think this is an important question, especially with artificial intelligence on the rise, some people are starting to struggle and lose sight of what makes art valuable. The most meaningful role an artist plays is storyteller- documenting feelings and retelling them in creative ways that give those feelings more depth. I also think of an artist as an archivist in that sense, filling the world with tangible and visual language. I think art is made when people search beyond our waking world, and gives a myriad of different points of views. It inspires us not just to create even more, but also challenges you and everything around us. It’s like a huge expansion of our everyday lives, and it deepens and supplements our understanding of the world that can’t be explained by words or science. An artist not only translates but composes new feelings and ideas.

While AI can maybe echo some imitation of this in an instant, its “create on command” feature starts to become detrimental. I think it very much demeans the very nature of art and what makes artists so important, diluting our visual world and media with nonsense. I largely dislike anything to do with AI, especially generative, because process is such a huge part in creating art. There’s something deeply human about drawing and painting (or any other artform) because there’s a shakiness, hesitation and intention that comes with what’s being made. These decisions and intricacies are what makes “real” art. When you create, you make sure it’s worth making the more and more time you spend on it, or the more time you spend thinking about it. And when you make something that’s worth making, then it becomes something that’s worth being seen.  

How important is it for viewers to understand the intended message of your work? Does ambiguity add value, or do you seek clarity in your expression?

My work has a lot of intention, but I don’t usually expect the viewer to understand. I like keeping things to myself, to be the only person who knows what my work means sometimes. I guess I can be kind of secretive in that way, but I just don’t always like to elaborate. I like when people really look carefully at the things that I make, and notice more and more things the more they look. That’s what makes my work rewarding to other people, so why should I rob them of that by being clear all the time or giving explanations or context to everything I do? It also doesn’t bother me when people understand my work differently than I do- different projections of my work gives me new ideas even when I don’t expect them. This is not to say that I think all art should always be speaking for itself without any context at all, like a lot of people believe, I just think that the lack of context can create a new layer to my work that makes it more interactive to the viewer. I like when art or stories really make you think, in a disturbing or completely new way. Or art that makes you fantasize or daydream. If it’s not doing that, I find it rather boring and I can imagine many others do too.   

Do you feel a personal connection to your subject matter is essential? How has this connection shaped your work? 

Of course! Why are you even making art if you don’t feel a personal connection to what you make? Besides, artists are usually selfish in that way and usually will gravitate towards creating based on their own needs or interests. I feel deeply connected to nature and fantasy and that very often comes through in my work. I think it’s only fitting that I explore what fascinates me most, as do other artists. This connection makes my work more magical to me, or puts a magical filter on the way I experience nature and everyday life because I’m thinking about all these fantastical things. My films take me a very long time to make, and because of that I get to know them quite thoroughly, and I feel a lot of back and forth between my current project and my everyday life. My art informs me, and I inform my art. They’re like friends, really, the things you make- you spend time with them and you give to them. The longer you spend with them the more you know about them, the more you understand them. And often they will give back what you give to them. For me I think it’s that magic, I get magic out of the films I make, which I can then use to make more films. 

Under what circumstances do you think art risks becoming pretentious? 

In all honesty, I may not be the most knowledgeable about this topic, but I do have a lot of strong feelings and thoughts that are often hard to articulate. I like to believe that art can and should be made by anyone and consumed by anyone. I think the fine art/gallery world is generally not for me, because there are too many big words and so over analyzed and over explained. Art should be accessible and true to people, but too often we are given limited points of view because of the need for external gratification, by gallery owners and those with a lot of cash in particular. I want to know what artists are really thinking! Because we are all human we all have relatable experiences- and often artists try so hard to be unique that they risk being much too obscure, isolating themselves. True, if you do have a unique vision that you want to share with the world then all power to you, however trying too hard to be that “struggling misunderstood artist” won’t serve you or your work well.

There is nothing wrong with being like everything else, even if it doesn’t sell well. I know that art museums can and are important, but too often in these environments the curation becomes corrupt, especially with censorship or for monetary value- or for pushing certain narratives over others. They can cause artists to turn on, or even worse, look down on other artists. Especially in this contemporary world, I think people should have a deep and very personal understanding of what they enjoy in art, and shouldn’t feel pressure to like things just because they’re popular or famous, or in an art museum. I think art becomes pretentious when someone else is telling you what you should or shouldn’t like. Curate based on your own interests, taste, needs and challenge yourself to be open minded. 

Do academic institutions still play a vital role in shaping artists today, or has self-taught creativity disrupted this tradition? 

I’m someone who’s had the privilege of going to art school and I’ve been having tons of fun. I think that self-taught creativity is very important and very possible, however art school helps you connect with other artists and creates a wonderful space to grow. You not only learn technical skills that sure, you could teach yourself, but how to critique and collaborate as well. A lot of my communication skills I learned from school and talking to the artists around you. Usually these institutions also give you your own mini studio space as well, and you’re surrounded with a lot of people- like minded or not, you encourage each other. Connections is also a huge thing, a lot of my favorite artists are the peers, teachers and friends I made while in school. I wouldn’t say self-taught creatively has “disrupted” any traditions, but have supplemented them, providing more opportunity. I don’t think art is at all impossible for those who teach themselves, I know quite a few successful artists who were self taught- but it does give you a nice head start. It’s not for everybody, but it certainly worked for me. 

How do you envision the evolution of your work in the coming years? 

More filmmaking, I hope- especially narrative ones. I want my animations and illustrations to only get busier and denser and more full of life, and I want to create more stories that stick with people. My storytelling skills need a lot of improvement, currently I work very abstractly but because I’m still in school I try and take classes in writing in addition to all my art classes. It gives me a lot of space to experiment that I won’t really have access to in the future. I want people to remember my work when they see it. And I think a good story can really grip an audience. While non narrative animation was something I bounced around in for the last couple years, I think I’m ready to retire that part of my practice or at least put it back on shelf for now. Nostalgia is something I also want to explore more in the future, as well as homesickness. My current project is about wizards and feels very self indulgent- while it is challenging me I only hope to challenge myself more and more.

However I think the subject matter feels very dear to my childhood and the influences old cartoons and Dungeons and Dragons have had to me and my work. My current film is sort of a love letter to that, I think I have to make this film to get it out of my system- it’s been festering inside me for a long time. The last little thing that I like to explore and want to further explore is humor- I don’t really think I’m very funny, or maybe it’s that my humor is too specific to get a reaction out of an audience. But I’m hoping to understand comedy more and employ it subtly in my future work. I know this sounds like there’s something or someone I’m trying to please, but it’s really not. I think I’d just like my work more if it didn’t take itself so seriously all the time. 

What are your long-term aspirations as an artist, both personally and professionally?

Personally, I would mostly just like to create more- and increase both quantity and quality. Currently I’m a grad student in Experimental Animation at California Institute of the Arts, so I would like to finish up my masters. But after that my goals are mostly just to make more independent comics and films, and maybe my own printing press or animation studio. Though realistically I will have to be employed at some point, I eventually want to be my own boss. I always tell people that I really don’t like being told what to do- my best work comes from breaking rules and poorly followed directions. In terms of working professionally, Small scale is usually where I lean- anything too big becomes too corporate and loses soul. I don’t care to be famous, but I hope that whoever stumbles upon my work can at least think to themselves, “Dang! She sure did have a lot of fun.”

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Across films, comics, and layered animations, Sarah Ruyle builds spaces where ambiguity is welcomed and explanation is optional. Nature, fantasy, childhood memory, and subtle comedy weave through work that values imagination over polish and sincerity over prestige. Art schools, peers, and collaboration offer structure, yet independence remains essential. The future points toward busier frames, stronger narratives, and small-scale independence — work made not for fame, but for the joy of making and the hope that somewhere, someone pauses and feels the spark of a world fully alive.