Secret Workshop: Out of Season

This post is thanks to our Workshop Crew members. Thanks Crew! To join the team (and see the top-secret art I reference in this post) sign up here!

this post features images of hayao miyazaki. i am not an old man. yet.

It’s Spring. It’s the blissful time here in Nashville when the murkiness and violent ochre of fall is almost entirely forgotten as the trees burst into pastel pinks and darling greens. There’s some agro-hipster (dare I say ancient) part of me that longs to live alongside the seasons, and thus for me Spring is typically bright and fresh, the celebration of the new, the joyous, the adventurous. Now’s the time when I rewatch the Studio Ghibli catalog, or replay Zelda games. It’s probably the time when I’m the least nostalgic.

While the coming of Spring has brought great enjoyment to my heart, it has brought great difficulty to my work. My current project, CURIO, is really more of an autumnal creature. CURIO needs to be a bit murky, most definitely nostalgic, steeped in things almost forgotten - absolutely not pastel, not current, not fresh. You may begin to see my problem. My heart is off in Ghibli-land, but CURIO demands it be in the exact opposite place. What am I to do? I could quit CURIO and follow my every seasonal whim. But that would mean working on 4(+) short films every year, never finishing any of them, and for a lot of reasons probably feeling very confused. I don’t really want that. So my alternative is to work out of season, against the very inspirations my heart is drawn to, and return to whatever increasingly dull-seeming, out of season project sits currently at my desk.

Normally I can push through this kind of thing, but this week I’m working on CURIO’s color script. (The color script defines the color palette and lighting for the short, which essentially set the tone and vibes for the whole production.) I can muscle through linework, I can muscle through character design, heck, I can even muscle through animation if I need to. But color has always seemed different to me. Color is the most emotive part of the animation process, and the most ineffable. When I seek out color I’m relying almost solidly on gut and vibes. There’s no formula for setting the colors of a project. I need to feel it.

But I don’t feel it this week.

I arrive at the desk and this quote weighs heavily in my mind:

Show up, show up, show up, and after a while the muse shows up, too.
- Isabel Allende

So I show up. I pull together reference images, looking for color patterns like stars in constellations. What I’m doing is almost scientific. Almost like an autopsy. All these inspirations were things I cherished last fall, things I still think are worthy of reference and imitation - yet the luster is gone. It’s partly the season, and partly being in the stage of production when there’s still much work ahead and not much currently on the page to encourage you.

I show up. I try out some different color combinations, eyedrop hues from screenshots, etc. I wonder how people work on Christmas projects during the summer. I mourn the loss of the “perfect” version of this I would make, the version made when my mood more matches the project. But I can’t wait for fall, can I? Who feels Christmas-y during the summer??

I show up. Thankfully, color’s not the only thing I’m working on this week - I’m also planning out the main BG painting for the short, and while inspiration would be nice for that too, it doesn’t feel as crucial for this kind of work. I alternate between the two tasks. Thirty minutes on color, thirty minutes on linework, tea, donut, watch a bit of Kiki’s Delivery Service, clock in to my studio job.

Finally, a spark. Not on color, but on the BG painting. It’s just an idea, a little story/design solution for something I’ve been turning over since Monday, but it’s so surprising that it excites me. I still don’t know my way with the color direction, but this is exciting. Suddenly the project has some luster again.

And that’s just kinda how it goes. It’s weird. You’d think that working on personal work and your own story would always be fun. But it’s still a challenge. However, I feel like it was a bit unfair to call this whole process an autopsy earlier - I think it’s really more like faith. Faith to trust a direction and rediscover why you chose it in the first place. Faith to just keep going. Faith to trust that a product that captures even 70% of the grandeur you saw in your head is still better than keeping it all up there, where it can’t be shared and enjoyed. It’s not an autopsy, it’s charging through what looks languid to find that living soul at the heart of the idea, the soul that captured your attention and sent you down this road in the first place. I almost feel like I’m talking about a relationship at this point, but that’s still another act of making, and thus requires just as much faith. (Probably more!)

If Bearpuncher was any indication, this struggle to find CURIO’s motivation won’t be solved in a week. But in the meantime, I’ll do my best to keep putting in the hours, making… something. Just something is good.

Crew Members, read your extra email to see what that something is! Bloggerfolk all, thanks for your readership! What are you making this week? Whatever it is, I hope the muse is right there with ya (and if not, just show up anyways).

best,
-dh