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

Break Out the Good Stuff, And By That I Mean Root Beer: Celebrating the Top 19 of 2022

oops! all bearpuncher! compilation from 2022-2021

Happy New Year's Eve, bloggerfolk! 

Like Julie Andrews on a thundery evening, I'm here to bring you some of My Favorite Things from this year. But on this Eve, I want to do something different - a list! 

When I think back on 2022, it was a year of doing. And nothing comforts a do-er like me than a good list... Inspired by Patrick H Willems's kinda-chaotic-in-a-charming-way list from 2019, I've taken movies, books, major life turning points and crammed them into an categorically-sorted, yet in-no-particular-order list of 19 things I did this year. (For those wondering, I did try to find 22 things for 2022, but then the list felt too long... so a nice, awkward 19 it is.)

But first my yearly disclaimer: Anything I watched/read/did for the first time in 2022 is fair game, regardless of premiere date. I'd hate to exclude something impactful just because it initially came out a few years ago (as is the case with 99% of the books I read) Sound good? Let's go! 

Movies/TV/Games I Watched/Binged/Played

19. All the Stuff My Friends Made!

What a good year for friend things of all kinds! With so many graduating college we had a wealth of thesis films, but also comics, new short film projects, and production work. I wish I had space to link them all here, but several are on Pencilish's channel, Jon Densk is running several projects by himself, watch the Wingfeather Saga, and read Joel Guthrie's comic.

18. The Bad Guys

The directors of this movie always say they were making "Tarantino for kids," but that's because they don't have the guts to say they were really making "Lupin the Third for furries." This movie takes everything great about the Lupin films (snappy, pose-driven animation, 1960s heist soundtrack, literal waves of policemen) and brings them into a sunny LA setting. The story isn't anything special, but it's just a really fun movie to watch that wears its inspirations proudly on its sleeve.

17. Horned Cook, Gola

This is probably my top film of 2022, and it's not even feature-length. It's a Calarts short film. But what makes it so special is the way it invites you into the sensory world of the characters. Adam's animations are always so tactile, especially given the way he animates hands. He invites you to participate in the senses of smell and touch in a way no other animator can. The short has such a fresh, crisp feeling to it, like a cucumber salad. It's great.

16. Bee and Puppycat

Watching this show for the first time in 2022 felt like a lovely coda to the incredibly special and nostalgic era of 2010s animation. It calls to mind the gentle pastels and chiptune melodies of Steven Universe, Adventure Time, Animal Crossing, and Nintendo in general. While it captures that aesthetic moment exquisitely, its observations on being in your 20s and pondering your future still ring true a decade later. Nothing is presented too forcefully, the characters move through their emotions and problems at a slow and relaxed pace. The show begins to devolve into further experimentation and absurdity in the later episodes, but I personally enjoy the earlier episodes the most, when it's just Bee blundering around and Puppycat screaming "PRETTY PATRICK!!" in his adorable little voice.

The second season/new show(???) that released this year on Netflix isn't as good as the original webseries, but at least I didn't have to wait years for more B&PC content!

15. Disney Channel's Theme: A History Mystery

"Defunctland" has been a surprise contender for 2022's YouTube Channel of the Year, but narrator/director Kevin Perjurer is one of the best ones out there. His work is well-researched, nostalgic, and increasingly funny, and I think this is his magnum opus. It's an internet treasure hunt full of dusty old websites, nostalgia trips, and genuine heart. Kevin really has something beautiful to say here, but like a good mystery it surprises you in the end. The subjects are so well chosen and great to listen to. I wish there were more docs about these sorts of people, made with this level of craft.

14. Wingspan

An obvious, clear winner for Game of the Year - when rereading my journals I was genuinely surprised by the number of times I logged playing this game. It takes my favorite game mechanic (engine building/card combos) and surrounds that with birds and bird lore. Maybe not the game for everyone, but certainly the game for ME!

13. Bonus: Letterboxd, Honorable Mentions

This was the year I discovered Letterboxd, which meant I watched a LOT of movies. Letterboxd satisfies two primal needs for the cinema-goer: it broadcasts your movie opinions to the world, and it lets you know what your friends are watching without you. I hate how much time I spent on this platform, but it did make writing this section substantially easier. So... win? 

Honorable mentions to Sing 2 (a movie I'm pretty sure they made just for me, a diehard Sing 1 advocate), Everything Everywhere All At Once (the best multiverse movie) and Turning Red (which had a great soundtrack and visual look, but major story problems.) I also watched Spongebob for the first time this year, and now so many cultural references make sense... thanks Clay!

Albums I Listened To

12. The Complete After Midnight Sessions - Nat King Cole (Vintage Pick)

This is Christmas music for the rest of the year. This is a rare example of jazz violin. This is awesome.

11. Nisemono - Ginger Root (2022 Pick)

There's indie music, and there's funk-inspired-by-japanese-city-pop-from-the-80s-sung-on-a-landline-telephone indie music. Whenever I tell someone about GR's music I always feel like the most pretentious hipster, but dang does he capture well a forgotten era of kitschy synths, late night ramen, and anime reruns. For this album, he's built this whole storyline that connects his social media, music videos, and live shows all together - it's pretty great. 

Things I Read This Year

10. Animation Obsessive

Two years running. Guys. If you like animation you have to read this. Puts every other animation publication to shame. (And they featured Bearpuncher this year!) 

9. The Line Between

Certainly more in the high-art/concept world of animation, but one of the most open and insightful looks into the entire creative process, chronicled in newsletter form, as it happens. Although it seems to be more and more behind a paywall these days, there's still a lot of achieved content that's free and definitely worth reading. 

8. Only Like Five Actual Books

Not a great year for reading in general, as I largely gave it up to finish Bearpuncher. Of the books I did manage to finish, Deep Work and A Praying Life were probably the most impactful. Read A Praying Life, but just read a summary of Deep Work. 

Places I Went

7. Forest Fair Mall 

The perfect Venn Diagram of abandoned mall and Goofy Movie design sensibilities. A late 90's - early 00's time capsule, and it's about to be torn down :(

6. Lightbox Expo

Every year I think the hype isn't gonna be worth it, and somehow... it is. People say "right place, right time," and that's the way Lightbox has often felt for me. 

5. Ireland

Surprisingly... I never wrote a dedicated post about this trip. I had one in the works, but I never found the time to finish it. This was my first big trip in Europe, and I was honestly pretty intimidated. Never have I felt more American than when I was 4000 miles away from home! For the past few years I've had a goal of living abroad someday - I now know it would be more challenging than I thought, but I'd still like to have my Kiki's Delivery Service kind of experience, adapting to a new place and finding my place in it. 

Art I Made

4. Little Fanarts, 

3. Wingfeather Designs, 

2. Aquarium Drawings, 

but Mostly...

1. Bearpuncher

In 2022, I finished Bearpuncher as part of a 2.5 year journey that stretched from my school years well into my first year of post-college work. It kinda dominated my experience of this year, as I reoriented my schedule, carving out early mornings and weekends to find "the consistent dripping of drops of time that erode away the immovable rock," to quote Jake Parker. This was a huge goal of mine and it's a relief to have it finished, and see people enjoy it. Thanks everybody for making Bearpuncher what it is today!

. . .

Listing, watching, making, traveling, doing - I think this year definitely reflected my resolution, which was to "be prolific." What I meant by that incredibly vague mantra is I wanted to adjust my style and adjust my schedule to maximize my artistic output in 2022. I had come out of a 2021 defined by some big life changes but with not much to show for it. I was frustrated by how little time adult, post-college life afforded to creativity, and yet was so inspired by the lives of creators throughout history who (because they didn't have Instagram, I guess) still found time to write letters, paint, write, read, socialize in fancy parlors, etc. I wanted that. Parlors and all.  

It meant I'd have to change my priorities. "Being prolific" in one area meant streamlining and cutting back in many others. As much as this was a year of doing, it was also a year of stopping. I found the time needed to document the process of creating (like on social media, and even the Roost) took time away from actually creating. So I picked my priorities and largely withdrew from posting online. While working on Bearpuncher I hardly exercised, cooked, or read. Although I tried to preserve my social time unaffected, I'm sure there are some who would say it felt otherwise. 

It was a year of production, not exploration, of pouring out rather than drawing in.  Turns out, it's not easy to do that and a fulltime job and still maintain a balanced lifestyle. Who would have guessed! :P  With so much doing I got surprisingly bad at being - I felt guilty resting, and I was always thinking of the next task that needed to be completed. I liked the things I was making, but not the person I was becoming. I was homebound, pulled in several directions, always busy, under-rested, uncomfortable when routines were broken and expectations unmet. I often doubted if it was all worth it - was I just chasing personal vainglory, or caring for my audience and glorifying God? Thinking back on my resolution at the end of 2022, it actually seems kinda dumb. My resolution was just to... "work more???" What kind of resolution is that??!?

What's crazy is that it worked, somehow. The film got done. I found a way to make art in the margins of working a non-art job. I'm actually pretty happy with what I accomplished this year (like the things on the list above) but there's more to a year, and to a life, than what you can fit on a list. Some of my favorite moments of 2022 weren't action items, but simple acts of grace. Stuff like spontaneous movie marathons and trips to theme parks. All the conversations I got to have with my grandma before she passed. The winds that rolled through Nashville at the beginning of each season. Bearpuncher getting any views on YouTube.com. 

I'm proud of 2022, for reasons I can totally take credit for, and reasons I totally cannot. And I think that's just the way things are going to be... a back and forth of working and trusting, hard fought rewards and providential grace, breathing in and breathing out. 

I'm hoping in 2023 to apply this idea to making art - to find a more sustainable way to make things, rather than just be-prolific-at-all costs. Guys, I just can't do a year again like this for a while. I don't know if that means a work adjustment, or a expectation change or what, but I need to do something different... I have all this art I want to make, and things I want to learn, but I also want to have other hobbies, a more-than-shallow knowledge of important subjects, and the freedom to explore a bit more. Except from Bearpuncher being done, I'm sort of in the exact same place I was at the end of 2021, which kinda scares me. Yet I feel like this next year is going to bring something entirely different... and I don't know quite what yet. And that makes me excited.

So here's to the things we earned, the things we didn't, and all we learned along the way -

To 2023!

-dh

Harvest

My houseplants are in a horrible state. The ginger has grown far beyond my wildest dreams and put up dozens of stalks and flowers, all of which are in some stage of browning. A pot which used to hold thyme sits empty like a memorial to the plant it bore last summer. I've even come close to dehydrating my succulents. Plants, surprisingly, won't sit still like they do on my interior design Pinterest board. They shed leaves, twist upward, get moldy, and do all sorts of other things which require your care and attention. Care and attention that I'm much more tempted to spend on making art (or hanging out with friends, if we're being totally honest.)

Because of this, I've learned that I'm not much of a gardener.

Which is kinda ironic, since for the past few months I've viewed my artistic work as another sort of "garden." In my morning drawing sessions I snip a few branches, pull a few weeds, pour on the water.  I "tend" to the story, checking back in on it, encouraging it this way and that, watching the slow accumulation of time and effort grow it into something bigger. Bearpuncher has been the first time I've invested major time into one project, and it's surprised me that as you sit with a project for longer, it becomes more of it's own... thing. Like a plant, it wants to move a certain way, budding outward from the choices you made earlier in the process. For example, Bearpuncher purposely ends in an ambiguous, happy/sad kind of way, but it always begged for some note of hope at the end. I'd heard this from friends, and as I watched the final cut I could feel its absence. At the storyboarding phase, I was confused on how to add hope back to the ending, but now with the film more mature it was easy to see how to do it. So I created one additional painting (now one of my favorites in the short), and the film grew in an organic and beautiful way. 

Speaking of Bearpuncher, and this extended gardening metaphor, it seems like the harvest is around the bend. Me and my friend Clay have 99.9% finished the final visuals, the actual artwork/animation has been done for weeks now, and the audio is currently being designed and placed. The merch(!) has been designed, and sent off for production. Last year's poster has been dusted off and greatly improved:

Ever made wary by this project's tendency to take 3 times longer than expected, I'm still bracing myself for delays, emergencies, etc. But I'm ALSO bracing myself for things to go ok and for this film to go out into the world SOON. For it to be seen by you! For the fruits of the labor (the lumpy, well-loved, Appalachian fruits) to actually be enjoyed by real people. It's Going To Be Cool.

But what comes after the comes after the harvest? For the smart farmer, the soil is left fallow - to rest, not growing anything, just recovering its strength. I'm wondering if I should let myself be fallow. When I was deep into making Bearpuncher, I dreamed about the post-Bearpuncher future when I would take few months off from drawing, travel some, and engage all the other hobbies I had de-prioritized. But after two years of doing this, I'm reluctant to put down the shovel. I like doing this. I like the fruits that come of being busy. I like seeing quantifiable progress, and an identifiable purpose for structuring my days. I'm good at doing, not so much at being. It's hard to stop without feeling a little bit guilty; it breaks my heart to say "not yet" to my next project. With a pivotal career moment approaching, shreds of art-school hopes and dreams still in limbo, and the state of the animation industry only getting worse, it seems riskier than ever to just REST. 

Or maybe, riskier than ever to trust. To trust that God sends rain on the busy and the un-busy. To trust that I can find success without kneeling to the idol of productivity. To trust that a life spent exploring, dabbling, and aimlessly wandering is a well spent one. I want to reinvent my artistic process, to care for my health, and to not answer "busy" when asked how I'm doing. But ultimately what I need most is to prune back the Miyazaki tendency to only feel purposeful and satisfied when putting effort into an artistic task. Our God loves the things we create, but he loves us more. 

I still think about Mako Fujimura's guiding question, "what do you want to make today?" But maybe in a fallow time I can realize again the dazzling breadth of possible answers. I think I'll try making apple cider bread, more time for prayer, and maybe start sowing the seeds of my next project. I don't think I'll be sowing any actual seeds though, since my East-facing apartment windows seem unsuitable for sustaining much plant life. 

Hope this piece finds you well and settling into autumnal coziness. I'm already feeling very nostalgic for old stop-motion movies and memories of past Novembers... and Bluey's gonna be in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade this year!??! So excited. 

Also I'm going to be at Lightbox again, like tomorrow??! My last experience at Lightbox was a high-excitement, high-stress time, but I'm hoping that this one can be more relaxing and fun. If you're there, let's do a big high five (and I'll slip you some Bearpuncher stuff ehehehehhehe)

see ya!

-dh

PS:

A song about the simple things, one of my recent favorites

The lovely art of Jestenia Southerland, for lineless art inspiration

Whoops: I Had Too Much Root Beer and Forgot that 2021 Ended

some favorite pieces from 2021

Well, not exactly. 

But I am pushing the bounds of when it's appropriate to post a "2021 wrap-up!" 

For some reason, it's been really hard for me to summarize my experience of 2021. The year had several distinct stages, each with their own joys and disappointments. It was a very mixed bag of a year for me - one where many goals were achieved, but many dreams left unfulfilled. Although it's only a month distant, the year already feels fairly foreign to me. I was in school only a year ago! Hah. Weird to think about. 

But before I go and get too introspective, I wanted to share my favorite things I discovered in 2021. So in case you happen to be looking for something to direct your eyes (or industry awards) towards, here are my recommendations. As always, I'm not limiting this list to things that debuted in 2021, just things I watch/read/played for the first time last year. 

Movie of the Year: The Mitchells vs the Machines

This film continues the innovation and heart first shown in Spiderverse, establishing Sony's position at the forefront of the American feature animation scene. It's probably the funniest movie I've seen in a decade, with absurdly dumb, smartly utilized jokes that hearken to the directors' days on Gravity Falls. I was worried that I liked the movie only for artsy reasons (art-school protagonist, innovative use of CG reminiscent of watercolor mixed-media) but its multi-week tenure on Netflix's top ten speaks to its widespread appeal. In addition, my mom was recommending this movie to everyone she talked to, a rare and sacred honor. This movie knows how to flip between being as zany as possible during action-comedy sequences, and as real as possible during the family scenes. If it doesn't win the Oscar, I will flip. 

Show of the Year: Centaurworld

This may be because I don't watch a ton of TV any more, but I felt like this was a weak year for animated TV. Many good shows (Hilda, Bluey, Mao Mao:HoPH) were in their between-season hiatuses, with only Amphibia holding down the fort with its killer season finales. However, Centaurworld's first season stood out with an incredibly satisfying story set in an incredibly weird and song-filled world. Kimiko Glenn and Megan Hilty are just fantastic as the show's leads, providing such life to the character dynamics and the show's soundtrack. It's with great regret that I say that Season 2 falls vastly short of its predecessor and instead plays out like an awkward fanfiction dotted with decidedly un-catchy songs. I don't really know what happened there, but Season 1 is good enough, and self contained enough, to establish Centaurworld as a great offering from Netflix Animation and my pick of the year. 

Note 2: Aquaman, King of Atlantis is a STRONG runner up and since I don't think it got enough love, I'm plugging it here. 

Book of the Year: Watership Down

You can find my full review here, but this was easily my favorite book I read this year. It has such a well-balanced sense of scale - both in the physical setting and worldbuilding. Nothing feels too sprawling or extraneous, so the author gives you permission to care about each detail he provides. And these are details you're gonna want to care about - daring escapes, bunny politics, prophecies of doom(!?!) The adventure is grand, the in-world fables are highly enjoyable, and the characters are rabbits. What more can you want from a book?

Game of the Year: Villainous

Whaaaaat??? A Board game as a game of the year??? Luckily for me, I wrote this category vague enough that I can do this. Try and stop me. You can't. 

Vindictive arguments with incredulous (and imaginary) readers aside, I got so much enjoyment out of this well-illustrated game based on Disney's more nefarious cast. This game succeeds due to its balance of story and complexity. Each character/player has a different win condition based on the villain's cinematic plot. As Cruella, you'll have to search out and capture puppies across various locations. As Scar, you'll knock off Mufasa (and then enough of his allies) to secure your rule over the realm. As Prince John, you simply need to collect enough "beautiful, lovely taxes! Ah ha." All these various systems are housed within a streamlined core ruleset - uncommon for an asymmetrical game like this. Learning the different villain plots is the most complicated part, but there's enough similarities between them to make this game easy to pick up without losing any replayability. 

Newsletter of the Year: Animation Obsessive

(2021 BONUS CATEGORY!!!)

This year, as part of a general move towards the analog, I got really into newsletters as a preferred social media. (I even tried my own! Sorry for putting it on hiatus, guys) If you have an email, and are interested in animation at all, I recommend subscribing to Animation Obsessive. They provide some of the most well researched dives into the craft of animation (weekly!) This is some intelligently written stuff, nearly academic and yet instantly approachable. They cover animation of all types, from all places, and dang do you feel cultured after reading it. At times when I don't feel like an artist or I lose my faith in animation, I read AO, and instantly I'm back in art school - informed on what's new, a bit snobby, and ready to make something.

***

For me personally, last year pivoted around my graduation from college, and all the rippling effects and changes and responsibilities that come with it. And boy did I complain and fumble my way through it. Complaining and fumbling, people. After a leisurely summer of working on personal projects while housesitting, I got a major case of lifestyle whiplash in October, when I got my first fulltime job, first apartment, and the very, very minimal amount of free time that accompanies such responsibilities. There's a lot of college luxuries that I found myself wistfully gazing back upon: free time during the sunlit hours, a focus on creating personal art, and the ability to travel to name a few. I've now gained a great respect for grown-ups (especially those with kids??? how??), a great nostalgia for the easy days of college life (wow, that was early), and a great case of sleep deprivation (uh oh). 

I spent the beginning part of 2021 preparing to leave Nashville, and the second half coming to terms with staying here. This spring I said a lot of goodbyes. I was saying goodbye to the people who I had walked with for the past four years - professors who built me as an artist and the friends who'd built me as a person. I had a lot of lasts. Last Caricature Show. Last Five Minute Film Festival. Last college class. Yet the despite the sadness that accompanied this departure, I felt like it was time. Like the Elves, Frodo, and Gandalf, my time in my old world had come and gone. I didn't recognize most faces on campus anymore. My skills were ready to be tested out there at An Animation Studio, where I would begin the next phase of my education. I was ready to drift into campus legend as "that weird guy who always had long hair and sandals" and go tread those sandals elsewhere. During all of the covid-time I had been building up a mighty thirst for adventure, and no place seemed too far away. I'd go to LA, Brisbane, Kilkenny - whatever it took. I was going to "make it," and hopefully draw some new coastlines, pay with new currencies, and create some new stories along the way.

But just like an awkward partygoer, I found I had said my goodbyes a tad too early. As the year went on, I struggled to leave town. A few key things were holding me back. One was my commitment to finish Bearpuncher, my thesis film. While in school I had bitten off way more than I could chew and had prioritized lifestyle rather than making art, which left me with plenty still to do. However, I had made a commitment to finishing it, which felt like something I could do given that I had no job offers coming in (second reason to stay). Although I got really far in the interview process at DreamWorks, my applications remained fruitless. This barren ground would later blossom into a position working at Shining Isle, which has been an incredible experience. Less than six months out of school, I now find myself working in animation, which is incredibly uncommon. Even more uncommon is the studio's location - just south of Nashville. This has left me free to stay in touch with all my good friends, and to continue being blessed by the community we've been building here (third reason to stay). I'm writing this now in my first apartment, nary two blocks away from campus. I can even hear the Lipscomb bells ringing out on the hour (which I do not begrudge, I'd always like to live in a place with bells.) Despite all the obvious goods of this familiar location, I remained haunted by the fact that it felt decidedly un-adventurous. What was I to do with the courage I had been building, an appetite that called out for the strange and new?

I guess what I learned this year is that for as much as I idolized the idea of the adventure of life, I don't get to be the person who draws the maps. Instead, my role is to chart the best course within them. For as much as I admired the Fellowship, courageously carrying the ring to Mordor, I had forgotten that Frodo never asked for such a quest. Sure, I wanted an adventure, one with excitement and challenge and risk, but ultimately one that built the skills I already wanted to learn, took me to places I already wanted to go, and satisfied the ambitions I had already set in place. But I'm not sure adult life, or adventures work quite like that. 

Looking out a the beginning of 2021 I was unsure of the "terrain" of my life. Where would I be living? Who would I be working for? And my college friends - would we be able to stay in touch? And although I've now found the answers to those questions, they didn't all come from me. They came from covid restrictions, community blessings, application rejections, job offers, and ultimately, God's plan. 

Now looking out on 2022, I've scouted out the terrain, but now need to decide what route I'll be taking. I know what I'll be doing this year, but what do I want to do? Are the grand ambitions I coddled in college worth keeping around? What am I willing to give up to be an artist - and is it worth it? 

For despite the big, existential questions that usually resurface when writing for my blog (or watching tick, tick... BOOM!), my day-to-day life in 2021 was actually pretty fantastic:

• I practiced hospitality now that I had my own space
• I learned how to cook all kinds of new things
• I have several artists in my life who could make great mentors and help me learn
• I have a fantastic community of artists and non-artist peers who encourage me every day
• I learned what it takes to get hired in animation
• I joined in on the sea shanty trend, an ashamedly non-hipster move for me
• Also started listening to a lot of musical soundtracks
• I'm officially in the time of my life where I get to attend a bunch of weddings, and even co-best manned in one
• Had a big Italian phase this summer after watching Luca
• Had a big Lord of the Ring phase this fall because I want to live in the Shire
• I ran my best 5k ever, placing surprisingly well in my age group
• Went on big, adventurous trips to the Smoky Mountains and the Virgin Islands
• Spent months primarily working on personal work
• Polished my swing dancing skills alongside a live big band
• Got really into board games
• Ate tacos on Mondays
• Played trivia on Tuesdays
• Got to the final round of internship interviews for a LA studio
• And then actually got a job in animation, for a studio that admires the good and true and beautiful

It's tough to reconcile the everyday goods with the big-picture worries. It's going to be weird to pass from a year characterized by transition, potential, and instability into one that promises to be predictable, defined, and stable (at least in my personal life. The world at large is still pretty wack.) I'm still not used to it, still just as bad with commitment, but I'll keep on fumbling my through it. I'm thankful for where I'm at, excited to see what's next, and ready to keep on learning. I may have finished my formal education, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I still have more to learn than ever. 

To learning, to fumbling, to good cheer and the friends that walk with us.

To 2022!

-dh

New Sticker Design!

just a little fowl humor for ya

Hi all! 

Big news! I have set up my first online store with my first little product - a new sticker design! If you want to see it RIGHT NOW and don't need the lengthy backstory, you can jump right to it here :)

https://danielhaycox.gumroad.com/

BEGIN LENGTHY BACKSTORY: Last spring I took an ornithology class which changed my life in a lot of ways. It started an interest in birdwatching, told me more about the bird's digestive system than I EVER wanted to know, and perhaps most importantly, informed me that the scientific name for the Robin (and other thrushes) is "Turdus."

I think that's wonderful. I love any bird (except cowbirds), so I hesitate to call them a rude name. However, Robins really do seem to fit it. They're one of our most common birds, and aside from their huge migration in the spring, seem relatively unremarkable. They are a frequent cause for disappointment while birding, especially when you're expecting a rarer species. They are, in a word, Turdus. 

Anyways, I though the name had enough intellectual, juvenile, and incredibly specific humor to make a successful sticker, so I drew it up, got it printed... and waited several months to figure out how to sell it. But despite having the least amount of free time I have ever had, I say there's no time like the present. And I owe it to these old projects to actually get them out into the world. I even have a whole artbook in this awful limbo. Now that I have a storefront, maybe I can start getting these kind of things out there!

Ok, so maybe that backstory wasn't quite so lengthy. But I wanted to make sure you guys got the news first and were able to snag one if you're interested! 

your fellow wayfarer, and bird-merchandise hawker,

-dh

I Have a Job and a Place! Wow!

 So... things have been happening... and after a summer of wandering, unemployment, and a side of freelance, I am happy to announce that I have a job! In animation! And also an apartment! All in the same week! And if I'm using perhaps too many exclamation points it's because I'm fairly sleep deprived and probably the most busy and frazzled I've been in months! 

Some context: over the summer I'd been doing scattered temp work and test assignments for a new show called The Wingfeather Saga. It's a fantasy adventure show based on a series of books I loved as a kid, and crewed by a team full of familiar and friendly faces. And now many emails, several sketches, and brief stint PA-ing later, I'm a Production Associate for the design team! Still kinda figuring out exactly what that means, but right now it's been a bunch of meeting scheduling, asset organizing, and macaroon eating. I'm told this last task will not be a permanent part of the job :(

I'm not getting to do much art in this role (yet), but I'm hoping to be able to sneak in a few designs when our team gets overbooked. Wingfeather is made by a pretty small studio with a lot of artists in production/admin roles, so there's a chance that could happen (which would not be the case at a bigger studio.) Of course, my PA responsibilities come first, but it would be a delight to point at the screen, declaring loudly to the whole audience gathered in the theater: "I DESIGNED that MUG!!!" (To which, they would jubilantly respond, "SHHHHHH.") I guess after more than a week of having no time to draw I'm chomping at the bit to figure out how to bring that discipline back into my life. The really cool thing about being in production is that I am getting a really good sense of how people are hired and how to make yourself competitive as an artist. I also get to sit in on all the art review meetings and soak in all those notes and knowledge. Now I just need to figure out how to put all that into practice, in a schedule that now has drastically less free time.

This is my first ever 9-5 (8-5 in this case) job, and so it's been a huge adjustment to pivot away from the self-styled living of a freelance/mostly unemployed artist to a schedule that is largely already set each day. Adults, how do you do this? How do you accomplish all the many things you get done in the hours from 6PM-12AM? Because I have not figured that one out yet. So far, I've figured out how to hang out with friends and occasionally make dinner. But reading? Practicing music? Watching TV even? No idea. This maaay be because I also got an apartment the week before I started my job, and dang do you need a lot of things for an apartment to function. I thought you just need a table and sofa or something. But it turns out you need at least: silverware, wifi, a real mattress, floor lights, and a shower curtain (all of which I did not have upon moving in. I will not soon forget that first night...)

However, each day, my apartment is getting a little more livable, and I'm getting a little more capable at my job. This is a picture from my first day ever working in The Industry and it DEFINITELY captures the fact that despite having a job, you might still be just as clueless, awkward, and amateur as you were in school (or in my case, more so.)

boy does this guy look ready for an exciting career

I remember reading somewhere that as you advance through life you'll often go from the very top to the very bottom of the ladder. High school seniors go from ruling the school to being freshmen again in college. I had gotten really comfortable being a college senior, but this is my freshman year of studio work. Things aren't going to go perfectly, my ego will be crushed quickly, and my footing may be shaky. I definitely feel like the nerdy freshman I was four years ago, and four years before that. But through the process, I'm rediscovering a bit of that freshman zeal and eagerness that I had ashamedly forgotten as a jaded senior.

So here's to going back to school - I'm just glad my new classmates are the best (and that there are sometimes macaroons.)

-dh