MADA’S WORLD: TRACING GIRLHOOD THROUGH LINES, COLORS, AND COLLECTIBLES
For this artist, reconnecting with her younger self starts with the quirky, colorful characters she draws—each a love letter to the Saturday mornings spent glued to the TV. Cartoons weren’t just entertainment; they were a world that shaped how she saw everything. Though she tried animation for a while, the rigid structure of the industry left her feeling boxed in. Returning to drawing for fun felt natural. Now, her work feels like a time capsule of her childhood and a celebration of girlhood. Offline, her friends keep her grounded, while her online illustrator community inspires her to push creative boundaries. Whether she’s diving into identity or capturing the joy of collecting trinkets, Tyler Mada’s art is all about staying authentic and creating freely.
How did creating whimsical characters help you connect with your younger self? Are there specific memories or emotions you revisit while drawing?
I think my characters come from my love of cartoons! I used to watch a lot of shows with my dad on the weekends or sometimes after school. We watched Powerpuff Girls, SpongeBob, Billy and Mandy—pretty much all of Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon. Honestly, I didn’t do much else except watch cartoons. I wasn’t into reading, and I wasn’t very sporty, so I didn’t play outside much either. Cartoons were just my thing.
When I got older, I found anime, and in high school, I started watching it religiously. That’s what made me want to go into animation. But like a lot of schools, the program kind of took the fun out of creating. I stopped drawing for fun for about a year or two after graduating. Now, when I draw, I feel the same happiness I did watching cartoons on the weekends. It’s not about any one specific memory—it’s more about that overall feeling of contentment and joy.
In what ways does your digital community differ from your real-life connections? Has it influenced your art style?
I feel much more comfortable in my digital community. I have a bit of social anxiety, so talking to people one-on-one can leave me at a loss for words. Online, I can take my time to gather my thoughts and express myself clearly, which makes it easier to connect.
My real-life friendships, though, are deeper. These are people who’ve been in my life for a long time, and I really cherish them. But they don’t share my passion for illustration or anime—we have different interests. Online, I’ve found a like-minded community of illustrators and small business owners who get what I do and offer advice I can’t get offline.
That said, my real-life friends give me honest, unbiased feedback about my art. They aren’t super into illustration, but they enjoy artwork and aren’t afraid to tell me when they like or dislike something. Online, people are usually more supportive, but I’m not necessarily asking for opinions there—I just post what I love. So, while my art hasn’t been influenced much by either group, it’s nice to have both worlds for different reasons.
Are there specific themes or aesthetics that resonate with your personal identity?
I’m not sure yet—I’m still figuring myself out! Lately, I’ve been thinking about my collecting habits and how they make me feel. I’ve always been a big collector of objects and trinkets. My childhood bedroom was full of little treasures, and now that’s spilling over into my apartment.
I’ve been trying to explore what my girls mean to me and why I like painting them. It’s still a work in progress, so I don’t have all the answers yet.
If you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self about navigating the creative world?
Honestly, I’d tell myself to finish my first two years of college and then drop out. The degree wasn’t worth the debt—but the friendships I made in those years were. Those connections have been the most genuine and helpful in my creative journey.
I also wish I’d figured out earlier that illustration, not animation, was my true passion. Animation made me second-guess myself because I was drawing what studios wanted instead of what I wanted. It took away my authenticity. I’d tell myself to trust my instincts and just make what I love—people connect more when you’re authentic.
How has your perspective on girlhood evolved, and what aspects of it do you revisit most in your art?
At first, I wasn’t consciously focused on girlhood. It was more about creating authentically. Now, I think I’m more interested in the shared experiences of women and the community that comes with that. We have so much in common, from our favorite shows to little keepsakes, and I love sharing those passions with my followers.
Right now, I’m really into the nostalgia of collecting. I’m very sentimental, and I love keeping trinkets like keychains, stickers, and other small things. It’s been fun bringing that sense of nostalgia and calmness into my work.
What rituals or practices help you reconnect with your inner child when you feel disconnected?
I rarely feel disconnected from my inner child, but when I’m anxious or uninspired, I know I need a complete break. That means turning off my phone, notifications—everything—and just spending the day in bed watching shows.
I’ve realized I never just watch something anymore. I’m always multitasking, like drawing commissions or answering comments while a show plays in the background. Letting myself fully rest and do nothing helps me recharge when I feel overwhelmed.
Have you found any unconventional sources of inspiration outside of art and fashion?
Not really—I’d say art and fashion are still the big ones for me. But I’ve been experimenting with film photography since I got a new point-and-shoot camera. I love how candid and nostalgic it feels, especially since I can’t delete or redo the photos. It’s been refreshing to let go of perfection and just accept the outcome, even if it’s not what I expected.
What lessons have you learned from rejection, and how have they shaped your journey?
Rejection isn’t unique—we all go through it. The only thing you can do is keep going. Sure, you might have an ugly cry in the car, but then you pick yourself up and move on. Sometimes it’s even fun to prove people wrong and show them what they missed out on.
How has your idea of community evolved as an artist? Do you think the internet has changed what “community” means?
I used to think community had to be local—family, neighbors, or people close by. But the internet has changed that for me. Now, I see community as like-minded people, no matter where they are.
For me, that’s people who love shoujo manga, cute stationery, and silly memes. I wasn’t a big fan of posting online at first, but now I enjoy being active and connecting with other artists. It’s been great to share encouragement and build those relationships.
You emphasize creating art for yourself. How do you balance authenticity with building a brand?
It’s definitely a balancing act. I’m always asking myself: Why am I making this? Who is it for? It’s easy to get caught up in creating for likes or followers, but if it doesn’t make me happy, then it’s not worth it.
I’ve learned to trust my taste. If I create something I love, I trust others will love it too. Every product I make is something I’d want for myself, and that authenticity resonates with people. It’s easy to worry about whether people will like what you create, but I think staying true to yourself is what makes people connect with your work.