Tristan Tzara once wrote that art ought to be a private affair, and that “intelligible” work was the product of a journalist. He meant this as an insult, of course. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Tzara, it’s that he held disdain for anything he associated with the bourgeoisie, journalism included.

It’s corny, but true: I’ve been drawing for as long as I’ve been able to hold a pencil, and for just as long I’ve insisted that drawing would only ever be a hobby. I suppose in some ways, I thought a lot like Tzara did — that making art for others, having it serve a purpose beyond myself, would taint the pure enjoyment and catharsis I got out of making it.

So it feels a little ironic that I’ve spent the past year illustrating for, well, journalists. But what I can say now with certainty, over 200 illustrations later, is that Tzara was wrong about journalism.

My time at The Varsity this year has been unimaginably special, thanks in no small part to the incredibly dedicated and thoughtful people on Masthead who I’ve had the immense privilege of working with. A special thanks to the Visuals team — Chloe, Erika, Brennan, Aksaamai — it’s been a joy to learn from and work alongside such skilled and passionate creatives.

I’d be remiss not to thank my wonderful Associate Illustration Editors, Emma and Dowon, for their diligence and care. I wouldn’t have been able to do my job as effectively without their support.

And to everyone who contributed illustrations to Volume 146: thank you. You helped make the paper come alive with your creativity and enthusiasm. 

I still firmly believe in the intrinsic value of making art purely for yourself. But The Varsity has shown me the enjoyment that lies in illustrating something beyond myself — illustration that connects, communicates, and gives new dimension to the written work it accompanies.

So yes, Tzara was wrong. Student journalism is sincere, driven, and imbued with purpose. The Varsity has allowed me to experience that firsthand — what journalism can and should be — and to see the power illustration can have when it becomes more than just a hobby, a part of something bigger than itself. I’m so thankful to have been a part of it.