Let Dua Lipa usher us in to the right headspace:
Practice makes perfect
I’m still tryna learn it by heart (I got new rules, I count ‘em)
Eat, sleep, and breathe it
Rehearse and repeat it, ‘cause I... (I got new...)
Wow. Sometimes you’re making new rules to forget him, and other times, you’re making new rules after an incredibly inspiring weekend. In my case, it’s the latter.
Last weekend, Cincinnati hosted their fifth Cindependent Film Festival: an independent festival celebrating touching, hilarious, and thoughtful filmmaking from all over the world. This year was my first year participating as a volunteer — both on the adjudication team and slinging merch. Sometimes, I also wear a popcorn mascot costume!
This year, I was also able to moderate a Deeper Dive with filmmaker Samuel Wright Smith (plus guest appearance by the film’s assoc. producer and art director Madeline Henderson) about their film in the festival, Embodied.1
Their short is a moving and meditative, traditionally-animated documentary about “individuals facing the end of life aided by psychedelic assisted-care.” The short film is beautiful and poignant. In our conversation we discussed death, connection to each other and the natural world, and how our artistic processes reflect and inform our lives. A few days after the conversation, Embodied was awarded Best Animated short.
Sam asked if we could begin our Deeper Dive with five minutes of silence — time to ground ourselves in our bodies and the present moment. They also informed us that this was something they did with their animation team before beginning each day. Animation can be so lonely and isolating, let alone immersing yourself in such heavy subject matter. I wanted to know more about the way their team supported each other.
From here we discussed the way they worked together, making sure that, though each individual artist’s hand is subtly present, there is no one person’s style above all. In one shot, the team each took different frames, as if each one of them spoke one word after another to form a collective paragraph. I love it.
Excitedly, Sam also remembered that they had created an 18-point Animation Manifesto: a cross between a north-star philosophy and style guide. The first and last points were, “Don’t forget to breathe.” You’ll have to watch the playback to hear all 18, but the mantras reminded me of a piece LA-photographer Jimmy Marble had written a while ago called, Studio Rules:
In it, Marble shared Sister Corita Kent’s, the head of Immaculate Heart College’s, rules for her art department, Frank Lloyd Wright’s 10-point manifesto, and, finally, his own. All three are thoughtful, personal, and clear. And it’s not that they even feel like rules. They’re not a prison. Rules might not even be the best term. I like guiding lights.
As I reflected on the mountain of inspiration I had after the film festival, I began to shift forward. I think a new artistic phase is on the horizon! Land ho! Or really, maybe, I’m being pushed out to sea — as tomorrow, I begin a class at the Manifest Drawing Center called Advanced Studio.
The seminar class is centered on the why behind your personal practice and developing a more cohesive body of work. As I mentioned in my last Substack piece, I’ve felt like I’ve built the practice of painting back up, and now I hope to ship off into the unknown. Additionally, I am taking new steps forward to return to animation filmmaking. Before embarking on these quests, it seemed like the perfect time to meditate on some of my own studio rules guiding lights.
Many of them are borrowed, and all of them are flexible. They are to be applied to painting, drawing, animation, writing, and more. For now, they’re also solely for me, a sole proprietor. But perhaps, one day, there will be a studio to speak of… !
Hold everything with an open hand - I’m not even sure where this came from, but I just started saying it to my friend Mike, the art director on Light of the World, as a way to describe how I wanted my directing to be. Open-hearted, flexible, un-suffocating.
Release perfection - In their manifesto, Samuel had the point to “Give imperfection a hug.” Maybe that’s an amendment for a later date, but I’m not ready to embrace it. I just need to let it go — send it out and let the wind take it far away.
Nurture momentum - borrowed from Jimmy Marble. Every step meets another step. Bird by bird. Let it build like a Survivor finalist making their fire.2
Give process as much weight as result - I think I naturally lean towards this focus, but I want it etched in stone that this matters to me. Let us not define success by the end product, but by how much we gained and learned by doing it. It’s all more fun and rich this way.
Phoning a friend is an endless resource - If I was on Who Wants to be a Millionaire I would be running that phone bill UP. I’ve always found that whenever I get stuck, I usually just need to chat it out with a friend and get out of my head. We have way too incredible and talented a network to not use it.
Work in isolation serves the collective - This is perhaps my most personal and vulnerable rule. I mentioned how animation can be so isolating. All art can be, when you’re in the deep flow state. But sometimes I hate venturing there alone. It’s very difficult for me. This principle is a reminder that I need to do the quiet, individual work to support the whole of production. I’m trying to move past it feeling like a sacrifice, but as someone who gets the most out of working directly with people, it is a sacrifice for the greater good.
Be champions of one another - My favorite and most effortless rule. Especially as a director, I just want to be your biggest champion on the team. How do I lift up your voice, your work, and get it as close to the vision while protecting the artist’s integrity? This is my joy and pride as a leader, every single time.
It’s lighter than you think - This started out as “It’s not that serious.” Which is something I heard from the internet about putting a task so high up on a pedestal that you never start it. You’re giving it too much weight! I reformed it to Sister Corita Kent’s Rule #9 and I think it also speaks to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Rule #5 on having a sense of proportion (humor). Let it float, let it lift you, let it not burden you.
The only way out is through - The only way to finish a piece is to get through the rough and bumpy phases of creation. I must, I must! remember that almost every piece I make goes through a caterpillar to cocoon to butterfly evolution! And let’s be real, not all of them are beautiful butterflies, but you must see it through. I think this also subsumes Sister Corita Kent’s Rule #8, the only rule is to work! To search and find!
Touch grass - Some may argue this is too close to Rule 11. But I think the distinction of exterior vs. interior is important. Get out in the world. Walk away and outside.
Don’t forget to breathe - borrowed from my new friend Sam. Take care of the interior. Release, relax, remind yourself of your living. Inhale, exhale. See, doesn’t that feel better?
I am curious, what would you include in your studio rules? What feels like a guiding light to you? Please let me know. Until next time 💌
At some point, this conversation should be available to watch online; I’ll share it whenever it gets posted.
I personally think they should stop doing this challenge, but that’s for another day.
My current creative endeavor is making a human. I want to try making myself “rules” for this weirdly passive but consuming creative work