Just Start First, Worry About Tools Later
A couple weeks ago, I talked about picking up trad arts again with cheap store brand supplies. With the last pieces I made, I finally feel like I've come to a point where I genuinely like the results. It's a good feeling to have. I'm especially happy to discover how much I am enjoying acrylic paint markers and liquid chalks, two mediums I had never worked with before. I'm telling myself that I can get something nicer after I have used up everything I bought, and it's nice to compile a little wishlist as I continue practicing.
That brings to mind one of the advices I dispense again and again, like a broken record.
Just start first, worry about tools later.
I get it. Good tools are essential. Good tools can be lifechanging. But starting with good tools doesn't guarantee good results off the bat, a reality check or a slap on the face. If they ever get started at all. Many would be stuck at choosing what to start with, analysis paralysis holding them in place until time melts into forever. As a grumpy penny-pincher, it also pains me to see all the waste. Think about the unused ingredients going bad, materials going stale, equipment collecting dust. Your money is your money, but you could have used the funds for something you actually like, just an idea.
I didn't know I would like acrylic markers, liquid chalks, or heck, the assorted exotic spices in my pantry. Had I started with expensive, good quality ones, I would get scared off making kindergarten doodles or nonsense cooking guided by ancient Chinese ancestors. It would feel like a waste. With the cheap store brand stuff, I have a taste of what it would feel like (perhaps a pale imitation, but a taste nonetheless!). I have time to gauge if I want to proceed, and time to plan how to upgrade (if I choose to). With these art supplies, I know that I absolutely do not need artist range as a casual dabbler. I don't sell what I make, so lightfastness doesn't matter. My upgrade would be versatile midrange/student grade stuff, which is still better than what I use now but not too expensive to actually use.
Someone asked what kind of cardstock I used to draw my custom tokens. I laughed and flipped one. They were Pokémon Survey Ad cards I nabbed from my LGS, which just so happened to be perfectly blank on one side. Took markers like a champ. I do all my layout works by pen on a notebook my old company sent us one year. The same notebook holds my draft and nonsense. If I run out of pages, I have several more I got for free in business conventions. I have a brand of cheap pen I like since high school, so I ordered the pen by the dozens. I'd bought and lost many dozens over the years, and losing one doesn't make me feel bad at all (these pens, they always go missing after a while. I believe somewhere in the Blind Eternities is a space where Lost Pens reside). I can't say the same about my calligraphy pen. Losing one would make my heart ache.
See, thing is even the worst of tools could be serviceable, because the qualities that make them good may not be evident when you're just started. I'd started learning many things with the most rudimentary of tools, most often discovered via convenience: software already installed on my school lab workstations, supplies my parents bought, whatever brand was offered in the nearest shop... And only after I had brushes fraying, programs crashing, ink pooling that I knew what to look for when buying new.
The brain is a funny little thing. We may try to justify our obsession with 'starting right' as a sign of fastidiousness, of professionalism, but I believe it's actually part of our flight response. We like the idea of being good at something but don't want to confront actually doing it, so we do everything else but doing it. Thing is, a good artist can make something wonderful with even an off-brand pencil. There were literatures literally signed in blood. You're probably not going to give a Prismacolor to a kindergartener learning to color, and that's what we are at the beginning of doing anything. You can learn cooking with that crummy pan you took with you from the college dorm. You can write a full novel using nothing but supermarket loose leaf and pen. You can learn to program with the first IDE you can install.
Pick one.
Only when you've outgrown it you may change, and make a list of what you actually don't like from your current tools before you go shopping for new ones. Measure features against your very own practice. Is this relevant to you?
Try it. You might be surprised at how far you can go. Don't make everything aspirational, act on them. You can always drop it if the activity is not for you, and then buy yourself a good cup of tea with the funds you set aside.