tealin: (Default)
I started learning Danish over three years ago, and though there were some dry spells over that time, for the most part I was fairly consistent with it. My facility ebbed and flowed – how easy I found the lessons was a pretty good indication of how heavy my cognitive load was at any given time. For one reason or another, the last couple of weeks has been an absolute grind.

This worsened on Monday: I usually knock off a couple of lessons on my phone before I start my day, as for some reason both my language brain* and my Danish accent are better before I get properly up to speed. When I launched the app, they had made some significant changes to the 'game play' aspect of it. One of Duolingo's great strengths was that the mantra mistakes are how you learn was baked into the structure – you could mess up all you wanted, but you couldn't pass the lesson until you'd delivered all its sentences correctly (with a generous provision for typos) so the only punishment for error was spending more time learning, an ultimately productive policy. Well, that had disappeared, Monday morning, replaced with a sort of 'health' bar that allowed you five mistakes and then you had either to replenish it from the points you'd banked up from successfully completed lessons, or quit the lesson unfinished. Given that I make five mistakes a lesson on a good day – and I was in the home stretch of finishing the top level of lessons, so I was reinforcing what I already 'knew,' not learning – the change in protocol was going to bankrupt me in no time. Worse, though, was that it brought back in one great flood all the anxiety I remembered from trying (and failing) to learn French – as soon as I saw how fast the 'health' depleted and how expensive it was to top up, my brain froze and I made twice as many errors as before. No longer fun, Duolingo!

Luckily the desktop version is at least a year behind the updates in the app, so for the rest of this week I ploughed through to the end in a race against the development team, and last night I finally cleared the last lesson and finished the Danish tree (or, færdigjorde det danske træ, hvis du vil). Given Duolingo's propensity for cutesy animations encouraging you to keep going, and the emotionally manipulative owl mascot, I expected there to be, I dunno, trumpets, or like, a trampolining owl, or something, but there was absolutely nothing to indicate I'd got there, besides a little text thingy when you clicked on the icon at the end saying, in effect, 'Tadaa, you made it.' Meget tak for det, Duo.

It has been a good hobby, in a life mostly absent of hobbies, and while I still can't follow a Danish conversation I can at least function in text, so it was worthwhile. Considering language acquisition is one of two subjects** that have regularly driven me to tears, I actually enjoyed it. It's just a pity the last week had to end on a sour note.

The idea is that I keep revisiting old lessons to keep my skills up, but I bid farewell to Duo this week because I'm about to take on a new cognitive load: learning a new graphics programme. For years, people have been touting the superiority of Clip Studio Paint, especially for making comics; it's on sale this weekend so I'm finally committing to it. I started learning Photoshop twenty years ago, and it's been a very incremental learning curve over all that time – I just learned how to use paths this summer! – and I am unduly daunted by the prospect of learning a whole new programme to production standard in so little time. I used to pick up things without even trying, and have definitely noticed the decline in brain elasticity as I trundle into middle age. Why I should be so intimidated by CSP I don't really know; it's probably fear that my diminishing capabilities will be confirmed, more than a fault of the programme itself, which looks powerful and, objectively, easier to use than labyrinthine and often arcane Photoshop. But there are so many buttons, and they don't look like Photoshop buttons, and I am an old lady and tired of all these new things all the time!

Learning new things is important cognitive work, however, and maintaining brain elasticity is supposed to be a key preventative for dementia, so in that regard I should learn it for my own good regardless of what I do with it. The resistance to applying myself to it, though! For all it demands constant stimulation, the brain is a very lazy organ when it comes to getting off the couch and actually doing something.


*My last California housemate will remember the dreaded 'pre-coffee pun', which I'm sure is part of the same phenomenon
**The other, you will not be surprised to learn, is math
tealin: (Default)
We're halfway through Second Lockdown here, and everyone is warning of a very difficult winter ahead, but this week I've been thinking about Spring.

My business, such as it is, is online; I am lucky enough to live as a lily of the field on the monthly shower from Patreon and the sunshine of generosity which has given me a low-rent palace. When the pandemic hit, I thought I was more or less lockdown-proof, at least until the economic impacts hit my patrons. What I realised when doing my taxes, though, is that my teaching, which I had thought of as a top-up, actually makes up almost half of my income. I had been teaching in March when Denmark locked down; luckily I managed to finish the class online, but it was difficult both for the students and me, and I realised how untenable this arrangement would be if things continued thus. Last October I was teaching in Switzerland and was supposed to have gone back again this year, but with both countries continually fluctuating on entry/exit/quarantine restrictions, we decided over the summer that making any plans was unwise. As we headed into the 2020/21 academic year, Europe once again became a global COVID epicentre. Things were not looking good for hands-on face-to-face craft tutelage.

This has recently turned around. The Swiss school where I should have been in October has asked me to mentor some of this year's class as they put together their 2D portfolios. And the Danish school emailed to ask if I would like to come back in March. I am ever a pessimist so I don't expect we'll be out of the woods by then, even with a vaccine, but the controls Denmark has in place for entry are very sensible,* and the school has further sensible policies on top of those, so on the assumption they will squash their mink problem in the next four months, I will probably be safer in Denmark than here. And, contrary to expectations, air travel is not a huge risk for transmission. It's just a question of getting onto the plane safely ...

These plans come as my parents are getting confident about their visit in May – they were supposed to have been here last May, but we all know how that went. I have been vocally critical of this confidence, especially given that the two countries involved in this plan are among the worst in the world for COVID response, so my blitheness about flitting off to Denmark two months prior whiffs of hypocrisy. However, the realities are worth considering: On one hand, travelling around some of the worst parts of a very badly affected country, staying in successive accommodations, eating out, seeing sights; on the other, travelling to a very well-managed country, staying in one tightly controlled place, with a limited number of contacts, under strict bubbling protocols. Viborg has been the butt of many animators' jokes for being the most boring place in the world, but the fact it rolls up the sidewalks at 4pm is definitely a point in its favour this time around.

Of course, the big disclaimer hanging over all this, as it has for the last year, is 'subject to cancellation.' The mentoring I will be doing from home so that's fine; if push comes to shove I know I can teach the animation class online, but would rather jump through the hoops to do it onsite. I hope it isn't cancelled outright, as the class is always a highlight of my year.

My main misgiving is that I was planning to start some seeds for the garden in March, and if I'm out of town I won't be able to keep them watered on the sunny windowsill. We may just have to see what headstart I can still give them in April, which will be warmer at least ... While the authorities are warning of a difficult winter pandemic-wise, Nature seems to be warning of difficulty in the more classic sense. We had an extremely fruitful autumn, especially in acorns, which supposedly foretells a hard winter. More notably, a number of spring flowers came around for a second go in October, and the last time this happened was 2011; winter 2011-12 was the hardest in living memory. I love winter and am looking forward to a snowy one in the countryside, but I also live in a draughty uninsulated 500-year-old house, so if it's much below freezing for any extended time, that extra teaching income is going to go right up the chimney ...

*Proof of negative test no more than 72h before arrival, required for entry; quarantine on arrival and test 4 days after; on receiving negative results, cleared to move about freely
tealin: (Default)
Since my mysteriously early wake-up this morning:
  • Made bread
  • Also roasted 2 kinds of potato, made 2 kinds rice, and sauteed mushrooms: I try to turn the oven on as little as possible, so might as well use the heat while I've got it
  • Took a shower (hot water, because oven)
  • Trimmed the grass
  • Ripped out some more vinca
  • Mulched the un-mulched pots with said grass
  • Separated Gift Squash into a plastic pot for when I get to see its intended parents again
  • Washed dishes from a.m.'s cooking (see: hot water)
  • Watered the darn acanthus (because dish water)

My gardening has shifted from 'what can I grow?' to 'what can I rot?' because the dirt in the pots is so exhausted and there isn't really any space to put plants directly in the ground. I'm growing what I can – mostly squash and beans because those don't mind poor soil so much – and trying to bank up as much compost as I can for next year. I cast a greedy eye over the bountiful greenery of June looking for what I can next cut back and add to the pile. Luckily there is a lot that needs cutting back in this overgrown garden, it's just a matter of separating soft stuff for the compost and hard stuff into the burn pile, to make ash for the compost. My next project is collecting and burning the fallen twigs under the willow to make room for a third compost heap. All roads lead to compost. This is a compost house now.

Now it is almost 11.30 and I have to sit down and do some WORK ... like I haven't been working all morning.

"Progress"

Feb. 19th, 2019 06:30 pm
tealin: (think)
1. Drank a lot of coffee today in anticipation of Gettn Stuff Done

2. Ran into the page for which I currently lack a great deal of necessary reference

Yeah, that was really well-thought-out there, self. Well done.

I'll just move on to the next page, for which I have adequate reference, and take a Bikeventure tomorrow to get proxy reference for one thing in case the email I sent requesting actual reference bears no fruit (which is entirely likely). Really it's not that big of a roadblock, just a rather jarring speedbump!

I am finding, with this project, surprising ways in which the Late Capitalist model of primary/secondary education has wired my brain in unhelpful ways. The biggest one is the whole notion of closed-book testing – I am finding, as I'm thumbnailing and drawing pages, that I default to trying to do them without referring to the compendious amount of reference I've compiled, which is utter bollocks and completely unnecessary. But how will I know I've learned what I've been studying unless my powers of recollection can be tested, in isolation? Open the damn book, Tealin.

This paralysis – albeit momentary – at not being able to do things in their proper order is another one. You can't just skip around the curriculum! You have to have continuity! No you don't. You've done the thumbnails. You know what's coming and what's gone before. You don't have to do ANYTHING in order. (Of course, doing it in order is more fun, on account of narrative immersion, but when it's just a montage of tableaux, who cares?)

12:28 AM
O HAY guess who isn't remotely tired? Go on, you never will!
tealin: (Default)
Things I have done this week:
  • completed student evaluations for my teaching in Denmark
  • had lunch with a VIP (taking most of the day, in effect)
  • booked SO MUCH AIR TRAVEL (I am killing the planet I love, I'm sorry, this won't last much longer I promise)
  • thinned bookshelf and donated excess to library
  • read and wrote and thought a lot about John Lasseter
  • completed artwork for a commission 
  • cooked a lot of food (why am I cooking so much, I don't know, it's not really necessary)
  • did surprise scanning for freelance job from this summer, then packaging up work from said job so they can pick it up and scan it themselves
  • tidied, turned my back and the mess returned pretty much instantly, tidied again
  • replaced my rear tire and tube
  • attended a meeting about glass doors

Work I have done on The Book this week:
  • diddly-squat

So of course I am feeling colossally unproductive.

This is why I keep a diary of what I actually accomplished every day, because unless I have an actual itemized record of what I did, I can't remember doing anything, and despair at wasting my time.  Of course, it is possible to fritter one's life away just keeping house, without being idle per se, but I need to be reminded that I'm actually getting valuable things done even if the balance on The Big Job is a deficit.

Now to transfer the intellectual comprehension of this into something like a feeling, an antacid for that gnawing dissatisfaction ... 
tealin: (think)
I have pretty much always drawn while listening to the radio. From my first Harry Potter drawings, done behind the counter of a rarely-visited gift shop with mandatory country music playing, through a few years of film and musical soundtracks and half the Vancouver Public Library's collection of audiobooks, to the discovery of Radio 4 and all that. I need a chew toy to distract the verbal half of my brain and let the bit doing the spatial/fine motor work get on with it.

Once before I've had to make do without much to listen to: In 2007, long after I'd got used to having a computer at my desk with all its streaming and/or distracting opportunities, I interned at James Baxter's studio, the upper floor of an old warehouse and last preserve of analogue animation desks in LA. The other interns had laptops, but I only had my tiny iPod Nano, and after a week or two I'd memorised pretty much everything on it. But an odd thing happened when I ran out of external stimulation, and my Left Brain's clamour for distraction was perforce denied long enough: it shut up and went away to do its own thing, and good lord did I ever get a lot done.

I've been in the same position the last couple of days. I'm in Bristol doing a few days on-site at the studio for which I've been freelancing, doing rotations, the sort of work on which I most "need" something to listen to, and during which I get most of my radio listening done. I do have my laptop with me, just in case, but have not turned it on yet, nevermind accessed the WiFi. And my brain is doing the same thing. It's a little bit miraculous: I thought I was another casualty of our hyper-distracted age, yet here I am, doing relatively tedious work in a silent room, perfectly content.

It's made me resolve to turn off as much as I can when I get back home. I can't imagine going fully without the radio, as it does help to keep me on task when the infinite distractions of working from home (snacks, chores, errands, etc) come knocking, but I need to budget other distractions much more strictly. They aren't doing me much good, anyway – certainly less than what I'd gain with improved concentration and productivity.

Funny how these lessons keep coming back around every few years until you learn them ...
tealin: (actually)
Someone on Tumblr asked me about how to get your foot in the door in the animation industry, getting your portfolio looked at, and whether these days jobs have to come to you more than you going in search of them. I thought I'd copy my response here, as Tumblr is so frustratingly ephemeral ...



What follows is entirely my two cents and based solely on personal experience, which is limited and somewhat unusual. But I give it anyway, just in case it’s helpful.

I have had the pleasure, in at least two of my jobs, to end up friends with the person who takes the portfolios, and the cold calls from prospective job applicants. Based on that, I don’t believe studios have ever been enthusiastic to look at portfolios out of the blue, or take cold callers seriously, at least not in the 17 years I’ve known them. When portfolios came in, they’d go straight in the Portfolio File, which was only delved into when there was a job opening that couldn’t be filled by a past employee or a recommendation. Cold callers, having nothing to show for themselves over the phone, got even less consideration (email is better; you can attach images). Between years of school, I turned up at studios in town in person to ask about interning, and got politely turned away; at one of them the receptionist all but laughed in my face. So yes, it’s like that, but it’s not a new thing. It probably isn’t helped these days by the increased volume of art school grads, but it’s not new.

So, what advice do I have? Again, this is highly subjective and based on limited personal experience, but:

1. Don’t be annoying. A respectful attitude gets noticed: you are taking up a busy person’s time and attention, and if you can signal that you’re aware of this and grateful for the moment they can spend on you (and only make it a moment) they are less likely to brush you off. They may, still, but you’re lowering it from a guarantee to a probability.

Points 2 to 5 below... )

I’ve had art online for 18 years and never once has someone offered me a (real) job purely through that: every job has come through personal contacts and past work. I know the story is different for other people, but that is how it’s been for me. I feel that nowadays there’s this expectation that if you just keep feeding your blog with the sort of art that gets likes, you’ll get ‘discovered’, but that’s not the way it is. Maybe some Hollywood starlets really did get ‘discovered’ waiting tables at Schwab’s, too, but that’s generally not how it goes. The first job is the hardest one to get, but it can be done, eventually, if you put in the shoe leather.

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