GROWING UP MY DREAM WAS TO BE AN ANIMATOR.
More than anything in the world. I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else. I remember as a kid, I’d spend my time sketching EVERYTHING I saw: people, animals, scenes. I used to draw every. Single. Day.
I would get home from school and go directly to my sketchbook. At least for a few minutes. Even when I didn’t have any ideas I would just doodle something. My hand felt incomplete without a pencil in it. And when the lines started to flow I was another person, one without a care in the world.
I used to keep a small notebook with me at all times, in my bag, because inspiration comes when you least expect it.
Sometimes I would be in the street waiting for a bus or at school during a break and just took out my notebook and sketched something., or made notes for my comic books, designed a character, drew some random person that was walking around…
It was interesting to find my sketch books years later, somewhere in the closet, and look at my drawings and remember where I went and how I felt that day. It was a like a time capsule.
They all got lost, moving from place to place. My sketches, my comic books, my illustrations, my portraits, my designs… All the drawings of statues I made at the Louvre, all my animal studies from the zoo, that 100-year-old lady so full of beautiful wrinkles and sad eyes, countless nudes, skeletons and muscles from anatomy class, still natures, landscapes, character designs, motion sequences I was putting together for the final year portfolio I wanted to send to animation studios, all my computer animated sequences: the gymnast, the bellydancer, the girl with the long hair floating in the wind, the bird flying… Where and how did they all go?
Papers dissappeared in floodings, fires, lost suitcases. Old diskettes and CDs got damaged. Only one sketchbook survives, from when I was 12, before I even started studying art.
You see, life has a way of shattering your dreams, one piece at a time. And things like politics, “revolution”, exhile and so many others can stand in your way.
For years I was too busy fighting to survive and had no time for dreams anymore.
But it was never forgotten, and 20 years later, after cleaning up so many messes, I was more ready than ever to get back to my original path. I dusted off my pencils and let the magic flow again. I learned Maya, to get ready for the next challenge. I started doing illustrations again. I started writing down all the stories and ideas I remember to redo my comic books, now that self-publishing is easier than ever.
And someday, too, I’ll see my first animated film completed. However long it takes, it will be worth the wait.