Saturday, January 28, 2012

Goodbye, blogger.

I seem to move blogging platforms every 5 years or so. However, this may be my last move as I've jumped to one hosted on my own site. I hope you'll follow me there!

Update those links!

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

World/Inferno Shirt #7,137

The World/Inferno Friendship Society is going back out on tour in the next few weeks. This is one of the new shirts I've designed for them. Go catch them live!

Sunday, January 08, 2012

Making Things : Hard Times Come Again No More

This is going to be a second-in-a-row post about the life of a professional creative. I try not to load up on these too much. There's always a danger of gazing so long into one's own navel that one spends more time talking ABOUT something than DOING something. But there you go. I just finished up some scribbly storyboards this weekend, so perhaps we'll have a new installment of My Boards Are Horrfyingly Ugly later this week. I'm also about to start on a series of posts that have nothing to do with business, and it could last for a long time. There are some big changes coming on the blog-front as well. Also I have some cool small-project things to talk about later this month. So stay tuned.

Anyway, let's talk about some hard stuff. You up for it?

I am in the midst of a dry, dry season. You wouldn't know it by looking from the outside. It's been the busiest, most productive year of my life. I've produced a reasonable amount of work that I'm am reasonably proud of. I've had some truly wonderful clients and have been honored to create some cool stuff with them. I've been featured here and there on the internet more than I once was. I've made a lot of new internet friends and for the first time have a reliable stream of blog readers and work followers. But other than the aforementioned clients, almost none of that pays very well. I'm having one of those periods where I am swimming in awesome, paying gigs that are stalled on the runway. And to be honest, things could really be better on the financial front.

There is a tendency, especially in an environment as mercenary and unstable as freelance animation, to overstate how well things are going. We're all doing fine, we're all busy, have you seen our new stuff? We don't talk about how many of us don't have health insurance, or have put off having children, or use our credit cards to pay the odd bill more than we'd like to admit. We don't talk about the times we've borrowed money from family, and how that makes us feel. We talk about the poor conditions for freelancers in today's market, but we often skip the real-life consequences. We laugh about how fashionable DIY is, but skip the fact that many of us came into doing so many things ourselves because we couldn't afford the alternative. That, and my homemade granola is way better than store-bought. My wife made vichyssoise last week that was to die for. Just saying. We ate it piping hot since it's winter here. It was like sipping a bear hug. I wish I could email you some, but technology just hasn't lived up to its promise in this regard.

There is no shame in hard times. We all have them. Some have them their entire lives. But, at least in my country, there is a very real shame in not doing very well. If one has the audacity to be actually poor, it is seen by large swaths of the country as a character failing. If only we would just take a shower, put on a suit and go find a job. Being an artist is only seen as a job if it is going well. Even someone like me who makes his living as a commercial artist, doing work for businesses and organizations who pay actual hard currency, is often seen as one who lucked into a fake job. When you are doing well, you're a professional. When you're not, you never had a real job in the first place.

And so I find myself hesitant to say things like "Things could be better on the financial front". I worry that I will sound self-pitying, that some ridiculous ass will say "First World Problems!", that I'll come across as somehow asking for a handout, that I'll be opening myself to looking (for lack of a better term) weak in the face of a very difficult business.

This is the fear that many (bad) clients prey upon. I've had a few offers recently to do work for very, very little money. And I haven't taken them. Why? Several reasons. I would be spending a good month on a project that wouldn't even cover the bills racked up during that period. It would have set a cost precedent with that client. I'd be contributing to the further-lowering of standards in my own industry and hurting my own efforts to get back on track. I was on the phone will someone a month ago who wanted to pay me $1000 for 4 weeks of work. I said no. That's now $1000 I don't have. And that was my decision. Sure, it made no sense to take the job. But when times are lean there is a lot of pressure to feel actual guilt over skipping any offer of payment, no matter how unscrupulous, especially when one has a wife and a cat who rely on you in part to make ends meet. They are both super supportive (at least my wife is - the cat has been silent on the matter), but there is something in my culture, my upbringing, my expectations for myself that feels guilty for making that choice, even when I feel it was the right one. And that's something I have to live with. I think back to last year when I turned down a very nice project because the client was involved in some human rights violations. I mean, they had Amnesty International on their back, protests about them in multiple countries and even a damning documentary or two. I'm not mentioning this to act like I'm some saint- everyone makes choices like this. Everyone has that line they don't cross when it comes to work they will or won't do. This was, unfortunately, over that line. However, had I done that project I would have been financially set for months and had a great piece for my portfolio. I'd be dining out right now and have a working relationship with a studio whose work I very much admire. I have to live with that choice. I have to be okay with that. It's completely my responsibility. Our talk about being professional creatives is often so light and frivolous, but these decisions have real world consequences - for agencies, for their clients, for people in our industry, for people affected by the work we do, for the people affected by what we are promoting, and, finally, for me - sitting here at my desk early on a cold Monday morning.

What responsibility do we have for choosing livelihoods that are fundamentally unstable? All of it. That's how much. I fell into this line of work in my mid-20s after years of working at grocery stores and call centers. I had no other good options, really. And I've grown to love this good option. It's my life. It fills me with immense satisfaction. And at 30, with 6 years of this behind me, I don't have many other options that aren't minimum wage. And I have to be ok with that choice. With my choice.

So why am I writing a post about this? Because I really appreciate when others are honest. Because it's rarely talked about by working professionals. With few exceptions, people just don't write about this. There is so much faking-it-till-you-make-it, so much swagger. And it makes people like me complicit in promoting this view of my job as one that is easy, carefree and sunny. The idea that once you hit a certain point, whatever that point may be, that everything will be ok from then on. But that's not the truth. It never has been. If you want to do this for a living, you have to fight, HARD. You have to do the best work you possibly can and hold on to good clients. You have to promote yourself and be a smart businessperson. You have to deal with feeling anxious a lot of the time, and the temptation to second-guess yourself constantly. You have to always be moving, like a caffeine-fueled shark. You have to support those around you. You have to make choices that will help not only yourself, but others. Because many times YOU are one of the others. I needed to write a post about this because it's the flipside to my other posts about creative ethics. Hard times are part of this life.

And so here I sit this morning. I'm annoyed at how sunny it is. I've been up all night working on a project I'm really excited about for a great client. After that project is done, I don't know what's going to happen. Do we ever really know? I have a choice to make about what I'm going to do today. But really, I've already made that choice. I made it 2 1/2 years ago when I was laid off from my studio job. Instead of getting a job at a the grocery store, I went home and started making things. And I made it again this morning.

So here is what my day is going to look like:

Firstly, I'm going to post this on my blog. Then I'm going to post the link on Twitter and my Facebook page, as I always do. Then I'm going to send out a Tweet that I'm looking for work. Then I'm going to go to sleep for a few hours. When I wake up, I'm going to spend a few hours finishing up an animatic for a client, write some notes and send it off. And then I'm going to start work on one of a dozen different ideas I've come up with this weekend to address this dry season in which I find myself. I'm going to make things, and make them well enough that I can make a living doing so. That's the job. That's the choice. It may work, it may not. But you either keep going or you don't. You fight or you quit. And either one is a choice you have to live with.

Good lord, that was a bit heavy handed. Enjoy this doodle of a cat playing guitar:
What song do you imagine he's meowing along to?

PS - It should go without saying that I'm looking for clients right now. My day rates are very average and I have been known to give bands and nonprofits some very attractive package deals. I'm open for commercials, PSAs,  music videos, odd commissions, illustrations, etc. I'll even email you some homemade vichyssoise when the technology becomes available.

UPDATE: A commenter named Blake took the time to hash out how $1,000 for a 4 week job would break down as far as an hourly rate. Obviously there are a lot of variables that differ on each job, but it's a pretty eye-opening read if you're not used to thinking about projects this way. Fun exercise: break down a $2,000 4-week project, or a $2,500 6-week project, etc. See how the rates hammer out. I didn't want to write an entire new post about the subject, but you really should go check it out in the comments section. Thanks, Blake! You could have written this entire post in a more informative manner in half the space.

Monday, January 02, 2012

What I learned in 2011 and need to remember in 2012

I have no new artwork to show you today. I've been working pretty hard when not out holiday-ing this past month, but I can only show you so many images of the new short before I risk spoiling it. I'm so excited about it/overwhelmed by it/terrified of how much work there is left to do on it. So from here on out I won't be talking about Potential very much. It'll still be a few months, depending on my workload from clients. But I'll have plenty of other things to show you before then and plenty of other things to write about.

Here's the last mysterious Potential pic for awhile. SAVOR IT.


So 2011 was a big year, and I learned a lot. Or at least I identified a bunch of things I think are wise and I am trying to remember to remind myself of them as I go into the future. As a public service, I provide a few of them to you here.

1. There seems to be some sort of law of inverse proportionality between talking about being creative and doing actual creative work. For every really good artist there are 12 people ready to charge you for the secrets of being a good artist. Always pick the free advice over the paywalled advice.

2. A lot of people write me asking for career path advice. I think this would happen a lot less if people saw my bank account and my health plan (sleep, fluids, liquid skin, NyQuil). My areas of interest are in the philosophical and ethical issues of being a thoughtful, creative person and the process of making thoughtful, creative work. I'm definitely not a career counselor and in fact there are times when I could probably use one myself. I DO really enjoy answering these questions, though I may have to put up an FAQ to handle some of the repeated ones. That said, I feel like I should mention that there is no such thing as a sure-fire career path in animation/illustration/artsy stuff. Everyone's career is different and there is no such thing as a guaranteed formula for success.

3. Actually, that's a lie. Here is the formula for any and all success I've had:

Try to do really good work. Show it to people. Be a nice guy. Get involved in the community of artists. Make your really good work readily available to people who might pay you to do what you do. Hit deadlines and be friendly and open with your clients. Do more really good work. Repeat until you are able to pay rent and buy groceries regularly. BOOM! YOU'RE A PROFESSIONAL CREATIVE PERSON!

4. There is another part of this whole business that people rarely talk about: you have to be lucky sometimes. There isn't anyone still working that doesn't have a story about being in the right place at the right time. We don't earn everything. A lot is given to us and a lot just falls in our lap because we happened to be the closest dancing partner when the music started. That said, doing really good work and being really nice will manufacture plenty of luck on its own.

5. Aesthetics are not really important. With apologies to some wonderful people, I have met hundreds of folks who go out of their way to hit the current cultural norm of a "creative person". They buy only Apple products. They will only take notes in a Moleskine. They spend a lot of time and money hanging out at coffee shops. For some reason they all started wearing glasses over the past few years, to the horror of those of us who have actual visual impairments. There isn't anything wrong with any of these things (except the fake glasses part. Stop it. Some of use earned our glasses through years of near-sightedness, double-vision and headaches. We were picked on in school! You spit on our hardships!). What was I saying? Oh yes. There's nothing wrong with any of these things. Apple seems to make some products that a lot of people really like. Moleskine makes a fine notepad. Caffeine is the lifeblood of the modern creative and coffee is a great way to get it into you. But none of these things will make you a creative person. I read a great article last year that I can't find now that talked about this, so forgive some paraphrasing. People read that this or that artist wrote early in the morning, before the day began. So they do that, hoping that they will be as brilliant as that artist. Or they read that some artist did a lot of drugs, drank a lot and was a total dick to everyone around him. You know what I'm talking about. You've either done this or have know someone who has. The article had this great turn of phrase, something like "This isn't creativity, this is merely rearranging the aesthetics of creativity". So true. A creative earns that name by creating, by producing. Not by consuming a lifestyle and talking about being creative. I'm going to say it again: Creatives make things. Full stop. Creatives ADD things to the world.

6. Aesthetics are really important. So once you're actually making things and all that, you should probably take the time to organize your workspace, figure out your optimum schedule and best practices, secure a steady supply of caffeine, invest in some good and reliable materials, take a shower, comb your hair and put on real pants. Maybe wear a buttoned-down shirt and sweater when you work at home. Shine your shoes. This helps you to feel less like an unemployed person and more like a freelance artist who is totally getting shit done. Look at your organized desk! You're not just someone who makes things - you're someone who makes things at an organized desk! You're someone who wears pants and smells nice! You keep a regular schedule! Is that some coffee? Go ahead - you're a real-life artist! Drink that mess down and get back to your job, which is being fucking fantastic at making fucking fantastic shit. Can you believe that it's actually your job to do this? I can. Because you look and feel like someone who's thriving. And there will be times when you need that to keep you going. Is there any group of people more insecure than freelance creatives? Don't do that insecurity any favors. Stay on top of things, find what works for you and take care of yourself.

That last one is the one I really have to work on. I've talked about my struggles with depression on this blog many times, and it's still something that dogs my entire life and sometimes wreaks havoc with my creative output. It also makes me not want to organize my desk or comb my hair or wear proper pants. My desk is a shattered hellscape affront to heaven itself right now. Staying on top of things is simultaneously one of the hardest things in my life and one one of the things that makes me feel better the most.

So here we are, at the start of another trip around the sun together. I'm thankful to be where I am in my life right now. There is some hard work ahead this year and some changes that need to happen, but I think we can get through it together. I definitely need to say thanks to all of you who follow my work, write me, follow me on Twitter or Facebook, Like my stuff and leave comments on Vimeo, blog/tweet/tell your friends about my stuff, etc. It means a lot to me and I honestly couldn't do what I do without you guys. So thanks! I can promise some big things this year. Let's make a deal - if you keep showing up, I'll keep making stuff and writing. Does that work? I hope so. Let's do this.