(the password is "sunny")

Below is the animation test that started it all, part of a jam called PUSH IT 4000 I did with a few of my friends from school. The character was short-lived so I decided he deserved more screen time. 

Eggs are good. Legs are even better. Put the two together and you've got a spicy little meatball. Why does the egg have a penis? It's a symbol of freedom: being naked, floppy, and ready to explore an exciting new world. This egg's world, however, is not ready to receive him quite yet. It's a tragedy of ephemeral vim.

initial sketches and storyboards

The egg is egg-shaped. The man is bread-shaped. The hands are hungry. The conspicuous influence in these characters' designs reveals that I, too... am hungry. 

I loosened up my drawing style a lot for this project, referenced unconventional sources, and treated each character as a presence instead of a body. My previous film, Monk of Milkweed, is a serious piece of art with a fine story structure and strict design elements. But THIS film is about exploring myself as an artist and an animator, to break past the boundaries I had previously stayed behind, and leave myself free to stretch my brain and say yes to every silly idea that came from it. 

character explorations

Upon seeing the film, people assume there is no story structure. It's just a bunch of visually appealing antics I made because I wanted to have fun animating it. This is only partly true because although my initial intention was to create nonsense, I subconsciously expressed my reliance on the joy of cooking. 

Food is salvation. When I was working on Monk, I wouldn't bring much of a lunch and I always worked past dinner time. And when I came home at night, I was hungry. Ravenous. I could hardly make it up the stairs to my apartment, I was so famished. (This lifestyle is not healthy and can be potentially damaging. Don't be like me.) Opening my fridge and seeing all the food, in my exhaustion, turned me into a slap-happy nappy ninny. I talked to the food. Played games with it. If eggs or onions threatened to roll off the counter, I would growl at them until they stopped. They usually did. 

mood

The hands represent my commitments: friends who want to go out, obligations that drag me away from my urgent need to eat something. When I get home, that moment of recovery is essential to my health and wellbeing. Please, just let me make something real quick and I'll be right out! 

About loosening up: here are some smear frames. I've decided that I don't like the way drawings look when they're stretched from one position to the other; rather, I like them to be in multiple places at the same time. That's why I drew doubles of certain elements instead of stretching them. They are surprisingly subtle when viewed at full speed.

I also kept rough animation to a minimum. I learned that I don't need so much to guide me when I'm working this way. I ended up working faster and more effectively than ever. I could feel the power surging through me and exceeded my own expectations upon doing so. When did I get so good? Was it magic? Was it all the consistent hard work and discipline? (Probably).

Hand-painting my own backgrounds felt great because I got to work with real goop and touch the stuff I drew on. Plus I did it outside the studio which means I got to turn the music up and not wear pants. It felt good to make a mess again. And it got me back into painting, which I desperately needed. 

Painted backgrounds and final composites

The final composite turned out better than I could have imagined and I was severely pleased. I felt like I had finally become the artist I'd been striving toward since I made the decision to become one. 

And that's how I ended my college career: skilled, ambitious, accomplished, and ready for more. Bring it on, baby!