According to google search, the first definition of animation is “the state of being full of life or vigor; liveliness”. I love this.
In the midst of creating an animation I am constantly pondering the vitality of the non-animate objects around me, envisioning the enactment of text and piecing together fact with fiction. Inspired by the Franklin Park abandoned bear cages, a place I have been working now for over four months, my story is slowly building. Ideas arrive as snippets while listening to live music, watching the profile of my partner as he speaks, from early morning dreams and on-site observations. They play out over and over in my mind until I am compelled to enact them with my hand.
My hand as the creator – to draw. Drawings that come alive with each mark, conversing between charcoal, eraser, smudge tool, hundreds of photographs and a trust in myself. Let’s not overlook trust. Trust in my skill; trust in letting go of that skill; trust that when a boat wants to appear, it appears; and trust that it will navigate under the stars of the Ursa Major (the Great Bear) to another time and place that I don’t even know yet. I am becoming an author whose characters are beginning to talk to her from the depths of another world, combined with my own, and crafted from a very real place.
the story will continue…