I wrote about subtle successes due to the last one that struck me: Heaven’s Nest. Through creating this short 2D animation I relearned everything I knew about creative processes. I’ll use it as a case study.
The Context
It was December and I was exhausted.
I had spent the last few months exploring the possibilities on the future of animation – a very, very broad field.
I needed a vacation.
Then I stumbled upon December’s 11 Second Club. Hearing that excerpt, I sensed inside of me a very strong emotional response, beyond rationality. A physical impulse to create!
The year has been quite chaotic, with ups and downs I had never experienced before. To be able to create an animation from that emotional response was a chance to catalyze the mixture of all that I had been experiencing: animation and new technologies, studies of the body through physical theater, and my emotions at the moment!
The Process
That same day I tried to externalize what I felt hearing the sound file, letting my body lead explore what could then become scene. I did not worry about anything, just leaving a camera running. A flying gesture soon appeared, and I realized the character was a bird who lost its offspring.
Watching the video, I tried to feel the energy of the scene, and I also picked some poses that I considered important, that told a story.
From there, I did rough drawing to visualize how it could all be staged. Do note its draftsmanship quality.
I wasn’t concerned at that moment about the character, whatever it was – bird, human, or something in between. I was concerned with its, the intention of its movement.
I soon noticed that I was taking to long trying to make advances drawing in 2D. So I turned back to 3D and animated a bouncing ball¹ so I could define its timing and flow.
Then I began exploring the bird’s design. With some references, I’ve got to this:
My idea was using this project as a way to test a to test a water-colored animation style, trying to achieve a delicate lightness, as I had done before in an illustrated letter to a very dear person, who I’d like to honor here.
And I also liked the idea of working with paper and ink, and not screens and wires.
I finished the jobs I had, and as I prepared to finally dive into this project, a sore throat made me feverish and knocked me down. When I felt better, I had the urge to disconnect from technology, and traveled to the coast.
I spent those days studying birds - both from video and real life, including the fortunate sight of a woodpecker and a toucan. I used this time to also explore watercolor styles as well. It was also a time for watching references, especially the classic The Sword in the Stone (old owl Archimedes is still one of my favorite characters).
I returned home with only eight days left to the deadline. I began animating the bird’s body, but realized I was easily losing the focus – exploring the background, colors, lines, etc.
In the rush I had, I didn’t have enough time NOT to plan.
So I made a daily schedule, which went something like this:
- 25dez - improve body and feet; draw head 4s;
- 26dez - wings on 4s;
- 27dez - “beaksync”;
- 28dez - draw all on 2s;
- 29dez - painting - 6 min max. per drawing
- 30dez - finish painting;
- 31dez - render and upload
Some tasks were more difficult than I anticipated (eg. defining the wings’ movement), and to top it off, I got an ear infection, leaving me a couple of days behind schedule.
But I noticed that progress was being made and not on one day had I have to work to the point of exhaustion: I took breaks, watched movies, slept well.
On the 30th, however, the animation was at decent shape, but I figured I wouldn’t have time for painting. In the excitement of this final stretch, I didn’t sleept and just kept working. In the morning, the unpainted animation was completed.
Throughout the day I noticed it was wise to separate a day for rendering: dealing with so many layers, passes, and an absurdly high resolution was slow and laborious.
By 5PM everything was ready. I was satisfied, but not completely. The project included painting. The original idea was watercolor with no outlines, and all I had were outlines. So I got whatever energy was left in me and started painting.. But with 183 frames, each part of the bird took me around 40 minutes.
It was past 11PM when I uploaded the final version and left to some friends’ New Year’s party. And I was completely satisfied.
The Result
The feedback I got at 11 Second Club was not very good, and more than one person questioned whether it was rotoscoped (I wonder what would the original material be; I have yet to see such dramatic bird). Also, after some time away from the scene, I began to think that the outline animation had more appeal than the painted version (which originated some good discussions with fellow animators).
But I was very proud of having done this scene. All things considered, it was an achievement for me. I’ve done it all in eight days (plus pre-prod) and faced two diseases.
It was something that made me a satisfaction similar to the one I had upon completing Blackout, my first short film that preceded my studies in animation, and was done with a pleasant discipline that I rarely reproduced.
That’s when I thought ..
Why would projects that I “just did” happened while pretentious, calculated projects studied do not get off the ground?
I’ve produced less content in the years following my graduation in Animation Mentor than in previous years.
Maybe, from the point where I started to educate myself, my requirement levels grew. Meaning: I needed to be ready.
The projects I envisioned seemed huge, and required vast experience. So I’d first need to develop myself to be good enough. And then one day I’d feel comfortable to dive in. Would I really?
As it’s often said in entrepreneurship: If you’re feeling comfortable, you took too long.
I did not feel ready to make Heaven’s Nest. And I do not think it is a great achievement in 2D animation. Nor Blackout, as a short movie. Both have plenty of mistakes and great room for improvement.
But both happened, and were achievements for me.
So today I’m more concerned on completing “minor”, perhaps less pretentious, projects.
But those which call for this urgency, the ones which I feel I can not NOT DO.
And that’s not aiming lower - not at all.
It is having the conscience that one can only climb higher with the support of small successive achievements.
And in a way, that means enjoying more the climb.
Facing the unique challenge of each step - and celebrating its success.
¹ I’ll write more about this bouncing ball workflow in an upcoming post.