Obsessed With This Pokémon Card

I started collecting Pokémon cards for the first time in an effort to bond with my son after three years of battling his mother to have visitation with him. Pokémon video games were what we bonded over ever since he was little and I handed him all of my old Game Boys and Pokémon games. As he got older, I would buy him the new consoles and games, and Pokémon’s new releases always seemed to coincide with his birthday.

After reconnecting following what I call our “lost years,” I learned he was now deeply interested in collecting and playing the Pokémon Trading Card Game. I had been playing the video games for almost 30 years but never had the desire to collect cardboard-and-ink impressions of my favorite characters. It just wasn’t my thing.

But now, in a desperate attempt to reconnect, I decided to look into it and give collecting the cards a chance. I will warn you that it can easily become an obsession bordering on gambling addiction, but that’s not what this story is about.

This story is about my first card show with my kids this past weekend—and what the one card I had to have more than any of the others taught me about myself.

Why People Collect

Each of these cardboard rectangles is actually a reprint of an artist’s Pokémon-inspired artwork. The range of styles and intensity varies wildly, and many collectors are interested in collecting the ones that have the highest perceived resale value or status. Yes, I said status. Like all things that can be collected and command a higher perceived future value, Pokémon cards are prizes for rich and famous people who like to collect things, seal them behind museum-grade acrylic cases, and then lock them away.

However, the vast majority of collectors do it for the fun of chasing down the latest and most attractive versions of their favorite Pokémon. In my case, I found myself drawn to the artwork.

This caught me off guard because I have never been an “artsy” guy. And while writing and performing standup comedy are artistic endeavors that I have embraced, this has been a more recent phenomenon in my life.

I’m in a post-divorce and sober era, discovering for the first time in my adult life who Jesse Lee truly is.

The Card

My instant obsession with the Pokémon card pictured above, by artist Miki Tanaka, added a piece to the puzzle.

This was not my first purchase of a Miki Tanaka masterpiece. I had picked up versions of the artist’s work on 50-cent Pokémon cards that caught my eye recently at the local collectibles shop. I call his unique style: “derpy art cards”.

I was actually looking for more examples of Tanaka’s work when I came upon the Ditto card.

You may be saying, “But I know enough about Pokémon to know there isn’t a Ditto pictured here. These are all Numel.”

And that is correct. But Ditto is a shape-shifting Pokémon that can resemble any Pokémon it desires. So why did this artist choose to create an image in which Ditto becomes a Numel?

This is the question the artwork begs me to answer—and, even more importantly: What does this say about me?

What I Like About This Card

What immediately caught my attention was the card’s warmth and whimsy.

There’s no dramatic battle, hyper-detailed rendering, intimidating Pokémon, or flashy spectacle. Instead, you get rolling hills, flowers, mountains, a tiny cottage, and a field full of slightly goofy Numel—one of which is Ditto pretending to be a Numel. It almost looks like an illustration from a children’s picture book.

I look at this card and smirk and chuckle because it feels like a silly, inoffensive inside joke. The kind of visual gag that rewards looking rather than demanding attention. It is charming rather than trying to impress you through intensity. That suits me perfectly.

Other Aspects of the Artwork That Resonate

Atmosphere over technical spectacle. The perspective and rendering are deliberately uncomplicated. The pleasure comes from the feeling of the little world. Ditto chose to resemble a Numel and reside in a space that is simple and peaceful.

The sincerity. The artwork isn’t trying to look “cool.” It’s almost aggressively uncool—and completely comfortable with that. It is charming without being self-conscious about it.

Visual environments you can mentally inhabit. This isn’t merely a portrait of a Pokémon. It’s a place. You can imagine the weather, the quiet, the cottage, and yourself wandering through that field. That’s a somewhat different aesthetic preference from collecting primarily for characters or impressive illustrations.

What This Card Says About Me

I never thought much about Ditto as a favorite Pokémon, but now I feel a kinship with its ability to adapt, transform, and place itself in peaceful surroundings.

The most interesting contrast is that the card depicts this transformation, but the artwork feels extremely secure and settled. Ditto can become anything, yet the whole scene communicates contentment: Nothing particularly exciting needs to happen here for this to be enjoyable.

So, if I had to summarize the psychology of my preferences, I’d describe my attraction to this card as whimsical + nostalgic + peaceful + subtly humorous + unpretentious.

And these things are incredibly high on my list of personal values.

Turns out there’s a lot you can learn about yourself from silly rectangles of cardboard and ink.

Do you have a favorite Pokémon card? If so, what do you think it says about you? Tell me in your comments! 😊