Clarisa Berrios of Midtown on Life, Lessons & Legacy

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Clarisa Berrios. Check out our conversation below.

Good morning Clarisa , we’re so happy to have you here with us and we’d love to explore your story and how you think about life and legacy and so much more. So let’s start with a question we often ask: Are you walking a path—or wandering?
Wandering. Always wandering…I often have my head in the clouds. Structure is important, but sometimes I feel restricted. I need the freedom to follow what excites me. Everything is interesting; I’ll pick up a hobby, art medium, or book for a while and then set it aside. I know it will be there when I need it again.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a storyboard artist currently working in animation. I’ve worked on series such as Archer and Hit-Monkey, as well as a few unannounced projects I can’t say too much about. Everything I’ve worked on has challenged me as an artist. Storyboard artists don’t just require drawing skills; they need to know filmmaking principles. Hundreds of drawings are placed in sequence to communicate a story, which is then used to guide the rest of the pipeline. It’s no easy task, and that’s why I love it.

Okay, so here’s a deep one: What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
Fear. It kills the cognitive process, which is essential for creativity. When I try to recall my younger self, the version that came before the anxiety and uncertainty, I see glimpses of a bold and assertive child. My mom can confirm that I was certainly fearless. Yet, life has a way of digging itself under your skin.

Fear is an important emotion; it communicates what’s unpleasant or dangerous to us. I might be bold, but if someone reacts poorly, then that awful pit in my stomach tells me to be more careful. But that pit doesn’t go away, so cautiousness turns to timidness, turns to panic as a response to everything. It takes time to understand the roots of the issue. So what am I really afraid of? I’m afraid of judgment. I’m afraid of failure. I’m afraid of being hurt.

That kind of anxiety eats away at the art-making process. It’s the most debilitating feeling to lose your courage and ability to trust your intuition. Storyboarding requires a lot of creative problem-solving, and you have to allow yourself to come up with “wrong” solutions. I’ll pitch a shot idea, an action, or a different way to approach a scene; sometimes it’s a great solution, and other times it just doesn’t work. When fear closes in on me, I have to remind myself that failure is a natural part of the creative process. Only when I embrace this can I find success.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Art as a career path has always felt tricky. I had a professor look at a room of 20 hopeful students and say only three would be working artists. Harsh. Although I think that’s true of any career, you never know where you end up.

I’ve always loved to draw. To me, schoolwork was optional, but creating was essential. I was continuously building stories in the margins of my notebooks. Storyboarding was a compelling career choice, but at the time, I would have needed to attend art school, which is notoriously expensive. Instead, I opted for Georgia State University’s art program, hoping I’d figure something out in the realm of animation, but like I said, I’m a wanderer.

I loved expressing my ideas through painting; all my fear, heartache, and fury could be channeled into a canvas. For a while, I felt satiated, but in the aftermath of graduation, I realized painting could not replace what storyboarding offers me—a challenge.

I dug into every available resource, blog posts, online courses, how-to zines, instructional videos, portfolio reviews; everything. I was never the best artist; I was just obsessed. And terrified. What if I wasn’t good enough? Is this worth it? I constantly battled against these worries. At times, I lacked any confidence, but I found support in my community. My friends and family always cheered me on, no matter what. So, I kept pushing, and somehow I broke in.

Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
Many industry professionals hope we can regain some normalcy during these uncertain times, myself included. We are scared of change, but the thing to remember is that change is inevitable. The streaming bubble has burst, and artists now compete globally for what few openings there are. It’s a bleak period for everyone on the job market; we all want some assurance that things will get better. It’s never a sure thing how it will settle, but definite change and growth are happening right now. It’s not going to be the same, so you have to be willing to adjust to a new “normal.”  I think nostalgia holds us back.

Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. If you knew you had 10 years left, what would you stop doing immediately?
If I had 10 years left, I’d stop procrastinating and accomplish more personal projects. I tend to work faster with a deadline. Lately, I’ve been toying with ideas in my spare time, developing stories and characters. I want to challenge myself to make short comics and share them with the world. All these characters, stories, and images are floating around me; I won’t be satisfied until I pull these ideas down and allow them to take shape.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.clarisaberrios.art/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sea_bearrart/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/clarisa-berrios