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I Hate Animation

My soul is ripped apart by my indecisive mind. Every little heartstring is cut so uncaringly. For years, I’ve loved the idea of animation. Making visually appealing characters, stories, sharing them, and being known as an artist was my dream for years. More than anything, I wished that I could create the worlds I lived within my mind. I wanted to share the stories that I had created and felt so deeply for in my heart. I saw no other way life could be, I was going to be an animator, and I was going to make the ideas I had come true. There was no other route, nothing else for me to long for or dream of, this was it for me. Somewhere along that path my mind changed. It was a small change, just the smallest statement, that nearly destroyed me. It was when i finally realized, “oh, I have to be good at this”. After that, it’s been a slow decent for me. It’s not that my skills are poor, rather I think I’m quite skilled at art, but I don’t know if I want to base my value as a person on a career that has such an unreliable return. I suppose every career has a skill level you must reach, after all, you have to be able to provide something. Animation and art as a career however, is extremely discouraging. Along with the low chance of financial stability, your art being seen as “good” or “quality” is extremely subjective. Even if people perceive your art as good- if your style doesn’t fit the project, or you don’t have the right connections, you’re done for. In an industry where most are treated poorly, like drawing machines, worth no more than a line on a screen, why would I, feeling my artistic worth near nothing, subject myself to an industry that will only berate me and crush my soul? Why is it that I must be good enough? Why is it that I am not granted the ability to survive simply because I am alive? Why is my art not enough just because I poured my soul into it? Maybe it’s because I’m lazy. I suppose I don’t want to be better because I just don’t feel I can be. I will never be as motivated as my peers, as creative, as talented, as acceptable as them. I am burnt out. I am tired. My hand is disfiguring. Nobody cares about what I make- my creations are a peek and a scroll. People may look at my art- tell me it looks nice- is that it? Is that all my work is to you? Something to look at? Something to awe at then forget? Within the visual layers on the page there’s meaning to me. Every kept paper- every excitedly drawn line, I want people to understand the effort I put in. In my heart it feels near none, as if my attempts will always be in vain, for I will always just be another “artist” and nothing else. I could never reach the levels of notoriety that my peers can- people just don’t care about who I am. They don’t see what I am beyond what I make. They don’t. They don’t, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t beg for attention, I can’t scream at myself to get better, I can’t complain forever, I can’t hate myself for never getting better, I can’t hate myself for never changing. For never being what everyone else wants to be, for not forcing myself into an industry-sized box in an attempt to just have a little bit of a chance. I can’t continue to grovel for people who won’t listen to me. It’s unfair to place the burden of caring on people who didn’t ask for it. It’s unfair of me to feel the dread I do towards my peer’s success yet ask them to enjoy mine. I do not hate my peers, I do not hate myself, I do wish to get better, I just wish my mind would not tear me apart. I am a good artist, I am not worth nothing, if my art is not beautiful on the page then it is beautiful by word. I try, and there are people, few people, but there are people who see it. The people closest to me recognize my worth aside my art, and that means the world to me. I am worth far more as a person than the art I make. Regardless of how my mind might try to coerce me into hatred, into despair, into jealousy, into depression, no matter how in the depths I may feel, I will always be proud of my peers. Proud of their creations and themselves as people. I may not feel I have any worth in comparison to them, but I will always marvel in the work they can produce. I cannot ignore nor push aside the heavy amount of heart and love placed in what they create- I hope one day I can see it in myself too. I shouldn’t compare myself as heavily as I do. In some ways I just can’t help myself, but that’s only how I am right now. I say I hate animation, truly I just find myself frustrated at myself as a whole. I don’t see it as “giving up on a dream”, rather a realization I am not bound to it. I love animation, I love creativity, I love everything about art. The people, the work, the meaning, I can’t get enough. I want to be part of it, even if just a little, so I will. I’ll be myself. That’s good enough. Whenever my heart tries to weep, and tell itself I am nothing but a failure, I ask, “Are you sure?” Blank 2 Nowhere - Graham Kartna