I guess it's that time. My film is completed (though I hardly consider it done), it has been screened, and I have put my work out in front of some amazingly talented artists and professors. I wasn't happy with the way it was received, and I was frustrated that I didn't manage to correct big mistakes enough that they were no longer noticeable. A weak story, some lame animations and lack of performance - I knew that stuff already goddamn it. I never claimed to be a filmmaker, and it's not even something I wish to pursue after college. This semester has only solidified the idea that I HATE the film making process. That's it. Goodbye folks.
Yeah, I know. There's more to it.
I used to think that art of any nature came inherent to me. You can't be an artist without some kind of talent for what is visually pleasing, and I was coming from a major where I was the distinguished artist and mine was better than any other work the computer nerds could produce. I kept that idea close to me entering the film and animation major. I managed to hold onto it like a crutch until the beginning of this semester. Oh boy, here we go: I don't know shit about film or animation.
I don't understand film theory as much as I would like to, my traditional art skills have withered from lack of use, and fear of new and more difficult things meant I fell back on the thought that I already had a pretty good idea of what was going on. I still had a little bit to learn, I still needed to hone my skills as an artist and animator, but I was already almost there.
This film punched my workaholic perfectionist complex in the face. I couldn't move on to other parts of the film, I spent too long in my comfort zone, and I burned myself out before the film was even close to done. I've been working hard on personal growth over the past year. I struggle with people's perception of me and a need to be better than everyone else - so much so that no one even knows how deep those sentiments go because I'm able to hide behind a "cool" facade the entire time. Even now, admitting that I am seriously lacking in a lot of basic skills for an animator makes my skin crawl. I've managed to not give up and cry in my bed every time I don't understand something or something isn't working perfectly the first time, but B-cut caught me so off guard. I had given up, stopped eating or sleeping or talking to anyone, and the only solace was that I wasn't going to work on my film anymore. I managed to pick myself back up, but not without raw emotions and whiplash from the reality check.
Narcolepsy isn't an excuse, but I learned more about my working habits and abilities than anything else because of it. Most days I couldn't work past 8 or 9pm, because that's when my stimulants wore off in my system. I left the lab with all my classmates still there, working hard and continuing to work hard until all hours of the early morning. I tried so hard to be like them, but once I ran out of energy I could barely talk in full sentences and everything became exponentially harder. Why couldn't I be like them? Are they better than me because they can work longer? It's not a simple yes or no. I had to learn that I need to work smarter and manage my time more meticulously than everyone else. I mean, I did learn that. Learning HOW to do that is still a mystery. If anyone has those answers, hit me up. Existentially I had to face even tougher questions about myself. Why me??? Why was I cursed with this rare disability? How do I explain to people the hardships I face without seeming like I'm looking for pity or trying to brag that I worked harder than everyone else? I don't even know what I'm looking for when I explain that I feel like I pulled an all-nighter after 8 hours of sleep. I only have two choices: lay down in the dirt and give up or keep up with my peers even if I'm at a constant disadvantage. Does that make me a better or more skilled person? Will I ever be better than average if keeping up with average is so difficult already?
I stopped updating this blog too; I was working 12 - 14 - 16 hour days and just the idea of putting my feelings into coherent thoughts was exhausting. I probably should have been more active with my blog, it has become less of something to update other people following my progress and more to get my thoughts and feelings out into readable sentences. I had to get over the idea that an employer or client would see these rambling, frustrated, nonsense posts because it became more important to put my thoughts together. Maybe it will make me more attractive, show that I'm human and down to earth and can admit the struggles I faced during the process. A lack of self confidence was another trait I have been wrestling with; I could go on all day about everything that went bad with the film and never mention a single thing that went well. It's a theme of this blog that I don't want to continue. Projects and tasks can still be considered good even if it's not completely finished or absolutely perfect.
My film was... good. Okay. There. I said it. My fingers twitch, ready to list everything I hate about it; it feels like a physical challenge not to go into excruciating detail about everything that was wrong with the film. But the animations that were finished and polished looked really good - I don't want to be an animator, but seeing all the work I did with the difficult rig and the challenge of performance and depth of character was extremely rewarding. I painstakingly created believable animations with a flawed cat rig (but next time I'll listen to my professors and stay away from quadrupeds while I'm still inexperienced with them). My models weren't as polished as I wanted them to be because I didn't have the time, but they still looked pretty dang good!
I don't have the words to wrap up all the emotions, lessons, hardships, and successes I saw this semester. It's been an invaluable learning experience, and I'm taking away more than just a mediocre film as I transition over to game design. I face the summer with a sense of determination and excitement that I have never felt before - I'm not sitting around all day eating and playing video games. I'm already starting projects that will help me fill in the gaps of my knowledge and tackle my weaker production skills. I've been blessed with two jobs in my field - instead of hosting at Cracker Barrel I get to work on a mobile game and a voxel-style game for an indie studio. I plan to give everything I have, including the lessons I learned from this godawful film. I'm not sure who will be reading this in the future, but thanks for witnessing my (slow decent into madness) journey through the trials and tribulations of my first short film. Bye!
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