It was a random connection thanks to a friend of a friend, and I jumped at the chance to tour the birthplace of such beloved characters and movies. When I was a kid, I wanted to be an animator. I would wave at the Disney animation studios every time I passed it on the freeway, hoping it would someday be my home. I wanted to be a part of the process, a part of making animated characters come to life. The little 8-year-old kid inside me was dying to see Pixar Studios, to gain anything I could from it. It ended up feeling very "Ghost of Christmas Past" or something, like this is where I could have been if I had "kept at it" instead of giving up the dream. I blame it on Bill Peet...he's a children's book author and he worked as a Disney animator for a while - I read his autobiography as a teenager and he wrote about how much he hated animating because you have to draw the same thing over and over again...and that was it. He'd talked me out of it. That was the day I stopped dreaming of being an animator.
But there's still so much I could have done if I'd wanted to work for Disney or Pixar...the guy that we were visiting works on backgrounds (like the set design of animated movies) and there are storyboard artists and model designers and art directors and it all was just so fascinating to hear about. I can't say I regret where I'm at in life, but I also can't help but wonder what it would have been like if I'd really pursued art, full speed, not looking back. I think I could have made it. Maybe I could be working at Pixar right now!
But then I wouldn't have a new green office with a fireplace. And I wouldn't have coworkers as wonderful as mine. I wouldn't live in the mountains. And funny enough, I think I'd always be wondering what would have happened if I'd really pursued working at my favorite summer camp. "I think I could have made it there," I'd say. I'd go back to my animating, quietly dreaming of squirrels and snow and cabins and wondering what could have been.
So today I figured I'd be an honorary Pixar character. The Incredibles is my favorite Pixar movie, and now they've adopted me as one of their own (to clarify, I didn't draw all these guys - I just Photoshopped an Annie character from pieces of the others, kind of like how God made Eve with Adam's rib.) Hopefully I'll get back to some true sketching tomorrow. I've been missing it.
This was my artwork-of-the-day yesterday.
I had fun making it, but I think I'm going to re-paint it.
Rather, I think I'm going to paint over it.
For the first time in my life, I have an office at work. I have my very own office to decorate as I please. I can close the door if I want. Yes, it's very exciting. If you knew what kind of chaos brews in the halls of my office building, you'd understand how valuable it is to have a sanctuary within it. I painted the walls a nice sage green (my favorite color) and thought it would be very "Annie" of me to decorate those walls with some artwork. I want it to feel like it's truly my office, after all.
So I grabbed a nearby piece of plywood (which had previously been used by coworkers who were trying to karate-chop it in half) and decided it would be my canvas to paint something wonderful. I took it home and started working on it. I painted the background all rather quickly (making sure to add some pink in there because my 3-year-old housemate Adeline insisted I do so.) I blew some brown paint into a tree formation with a straw and I was pleased with the result. It reminds me of Dr. Seuss or something.
Then I woke up this morning, and I was horrified with it. I don't like it at all. Mainly, I don't like the choice of greens. They look all neon and flouresent, which is the opposite of the vibe I want in my office. It's always hard for me to get rid of artwork I've done (even the bad stuff) but I kind of like the idea that I can paint over it and tomorrow it will be something completely different...and no one will know it was once a flourescent Dr. Seuss tree.
Here's a blast from the past...
Remember in elementary school when we'd do those straw/ink trees? You throw a few drops of black ink on paper and then use a straw to blow the drops of ink where you want them...It's super-easy and I love the creepy skinny tree arms that it creates. When I decided I wanted to make some of these, I searched the house and couldn't find any straws...except a plastic curly-cue kind that's meant for a child. So these were done with a red plastic curly straw, and I think that makes them extra special.
Ruh-roh. I can’t tell if this one was a success or not. I guess it works...I mean, it’s obviously the Wizard of Oz, but I can’t tell if I successfully captured the essence of the cartoon I was trying to imitate – which is Scooby Doo. It’s a bit of a stretch. Dorothy doesn’t look much like Velma without her glasses – but it’s not that I wanted them to look alike, I wanted to draw Dorothy in the style of Velma. I want these to be how the Scooby Doo creators would draw the Wizard of Oz if they were asked. But still, I’d like it to be recognizable. I was surprised that Glinda-Daphne was by far the most difficult and Tin-Fred was the easiest. I still don’t think Glinda’s eyes are right. But overall, I do like this drawing. It was fun to do - and that’s the point, right? Jinkies.
My twelfth birthday party had a 007 theme, and it was awesome. We drank out of martini glasses and decoded puzzles and and drove around the Ventura harbor in a boat trying to dismantle "bombs" that my mom had hidden on friends' docks...I'm making it sound complicated, but it was the best party ever. My mom pretended to be Miss Moneypenny and my dad was Q (if you don't know who these people are, do yourself a favor and rent "Goldfinger" or "From Russia with Love" right away.) The funny part is - one of the party favors we gave every guest was a button (like a big pin, not like a sewing button) with a different Bond girl name on it. So, each of the girls at my party was a different Bond girl.
It's funny because, in hindsight, it's crazy that we gave jr. high girls nametags with such inappropriate names. "Holly Goodhead" and "Plenty O'Toole" are some of the tame ones. Fortunately, we were kids and we didn't think anything of it. Bond girl names have always been ridiculous, so I couldn't resist the urge to mock them. That's what really lies at the heart of this drawing - me mocking all the Bond girls with inapropriate names. Needless to say, James thinks I'm kind of a third wheel in this scenario.