Friday, December 5, 2008

Friday, 5:45

I spent twenty years working in animation. I love the medium, but most of the projects I worked on weren't intellectually stimulating or artistically satisfying. When I reached the twenty year benchmark, I decided that I had had enough, so I left animation and began pursuing a career as an artist. The last day at work was liberating; I felt exhilarated and like a child who is let out for summer holiday and runs across screaming the schoolyard, except that I was now on perpetual summer holidays.

It's been a year since I struck out on my own. I've learned how to be a business woman and run my own online shop. I have specific goals that I want to achieve with the business, goals that will one day allow me to close the shop and paint full time. I have felt happiness and frustration at being my own boss- I still have much to learn but I like the challenges I face.

When I left animation, I realised that I had twenty years of commercial thinking to ease out of my mind, and a whole world of art-y thinking to look forward to and absorb. I realised the other day, after looking at the work that I was doing, that it didn't match the working artist ideal that I had in mind when I started the business. I was relying on making things that I thought would sell, instead of concentrating on making the kind of art I like and following my own expression. There is no broadcaster now to tell me what kind of content my art should have, I have no producer or director to answer to- the possibilities to what I can come up with are endless, and I owe it to myself to 'go for it' as I want. I made the decision to only make goods that satisfy a criteria I set for myself: A) The work is intellectually stimulating B) pushes my abilities and satisfies me creatively. Since I made this decision, I feel free from constraints, the ones I forged in my mind and the outside influences. I look forward to creating every day now.

Monday, December 1, 2008

12:48 a.m.


I can't sleep. It's almost 1 a.m. I'd rather sit up and drink water and eventually go back to bed rather than toss and turn.

Had a pleasant weekend. I bought two books: "How Proust Can Change Your Life," and "Essays In Love," both by Alain de Botton. I enjoy his writing.

Went for dinner with my husband on Saturday night. The beginning and end of the meal was great, but the middle consisted of a discussion on caring that got heated. The discussion carried on during dessert, and because the tone of conversation was dark, I ate piece of strawberry rhubarb pie without really tasting it. It was an odd discussion; it was the way that it was presented that led to confusion and me asking why we had spent a half hour discussing the topic at all. We agreed that in the future, we will make our intentions clear in the beginning to avoid a misunderstanding. Today we agreed that the dinner was a pleasant experience after all because we had an arc; we felt we had grown, which made me feel relieved, and then I recalled the flavour of the pie and the baked brie and baguette I had eaten. Perhaps it's best to save a philosophical discussion for after a meal. Definitely after dessert.

It's now 1:45. a.m. Time for bed.