Ok so to keep up with this... what, sketch journal? My doodles will be sloppier than usual some days.
So today I finally met with the studio, and you know what? I really enjoyed it. For days I kept thinking of all that could go wrong when the exact opposite happened. Though small, it's a very open environment filled with helpful and fun people. I, among others, got to start our training today. But first we got a tour and introduced ourselves. One person is from Texas, another from Michigan, a couple from California, a small handful from the New England states and me from the southeast. After breakfast we got a slight flash demonstration, 90% of which I already knew, but it was settling to see other professionals using similar techniques during their work process. By the way these two fellas are my mentors for the two weeks.
One's the director and the other's the lead animator... I think. It's been many hours since work and I don't remember which does what at the moment. I just know they're my superiors. After lunch they helped us practice drawing the characters for the show we'll be animating soon. I still remember some of the tips from the animation test they gave me months ago, so drawing the characters wasn't a challenge.
It's always a good feeling to know you're understanding the process. And yeah... I did celebrate with some Daft Punk Discovery album for the rest of my work. But of course all good things must come to an end. We finished around six and I started my long commute back. On the way I was met with a little detour that had me walking alone down a quiet block for a while.
Oh don't worry! It was a well lit area and that whole block was occupied by a building, a police troop building. If a mugger was going to get me he or she would be the bravest or dumbest one of them all. I got home two and a half hours later and saw my other host, Ambro. I'm most likely spelling his name wrong, but I'm not familiar with Arabic names so forgive my ignorance.
He was eating dinner and offered me a meal. It was a brownish rice with chicken. It kind of made me think of jollof if it was cooked in a brown spice stew instead of a tomato stew. Him and Faris have been so generous with my use of their kitchen but I've always felt bad about eating their food. I'm that kind of person that can offer hospitality but may have a hard time accepting generous examples like theirs. I smiled but went over to the fridge where I had leftover pizza. "Come on you're not going to have my food but pizza every night?" he asked jokingly. I suppose it was rude to refuse food. So I grabbed a small plate and took a serving spoon of the rice dish and a little bit of chicken in the pot. Then I sat next to him and started eating. "Your sense of humor is funny." he said as he grabbed the whole pot and poured a small mound of rice and a whole quarter of chicken on my little plate. What a dinner! It was delicious, though he protested, saying that he overcooked the rice. We talked about many things. He's about my little sister's age, is beginning to body build and goes to Kaplan. I told him girl's love a man that could cook and that he should start reading poetry. "Cook, bodybuild and literature? They'll go nuts." I told him. He laughed. Later Faris and I goofed off on the internet and played with his cat.
Jaffa! In my head I call him King Jaffa. It took a couple days but this kitty warmed up to me. I drew him while he was laying on my bed, watching me, wanting to play most likely. Fun fact, according to Faris, Jaffa is the lamest name in Arabic. "It means flowing river, or a camel with a lot of milk." pffft, lol.