I was recently told, by a man with considerable experience, that the best way to start off an animation project is to knowing your story. Having a concrete plot saves considerable time. You don't have to worry about having to remake a character or wasting work on a scene that will never be in the movie.

Unfortunately, I have never been farther from inspiration. My head is filled with abstractions and fragments of purpose. When I'm given anything specific in a project I tend to dwell on what I'm given and the full idea seems to float around, unrealized, in my head like an old movie that something has half reminded me of.

The project is:

"Create a 30 second animation where objects on a desk come to life."

I was also once told a different, more brilliant concept that might save my ass by the end of this summer. "Do not write what you know; everyone does that. Write what you wish already existed, what you would want to read." So here's some elements of story telling that I wish had been happily married long ago.

Abandoned Places:

When I see a picture of an abandoned building or factory there's something compelling about it, as if the place is reaching out for the human contact it had once known. Every location is alive and longing.

I also swoon when abandoned rooms appear as if they are underwater. Dust hangs suspended in the air like particles in the ocean and the light hits in such a way that colors become pale and soft. I couldn't find a great picture of this, I just vaguely remember moments like this when I was little.

Personification of the Inanimate:

While looking up abandoned buildings I can across this picture which inspired me to add this section.

This building is in agony. I can't think anything else when I look at it. Buildings can't feel, they can't limp, and the ripped away front door certainly can't be screaming but as a person I make these connections automatically. Our ability to see faces and emotions on objects that have neither is really interesting and compelling. This project revolves around students animating objects so that they appear to come to life but the animation is entirely unnecessary. This building is alive. My curtains are alive when they whip around in heavy wind. Sounds are alive when they manifest themselves in the dark. I'd digress but I really don't know where I'm going with this.

Framing:

I love natural framing more than any sane human should. Look at these and just try not to go, "Wow, that's nice!"

The Unknown Remaining That Way:
I'm picky as hell about story telling and there is no easier way of screwing up a good thing than over explaining aspects of the plot. Inversely, there is no easier way to keep a story compelling than keeping everything a secret. The unknown in story telling is like momentum in physics. It keeps the story rolling.

Something related is character motivation. I hate hate hate it when the reason behind characters' actions are obvious. Real people are deep and illogical. We do things on whims and gut feelings without fully understanding why. Stereotypes are safe and predictable, but they are insubstantial and easily forgotten.

Synesthesia:

This is when one sense (sight,taste,touch, smell) automatically triggers another sense. It's seen as a neurological condition but I'd like to believe that this can be forced to happen in an average person. I'd like for the colors on the screen and the music from the speakers to make you feel cold, smell grass, or taste rain. These are things that limit our immersion into film and seriously limits the emotional pull.

In Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, the initial beach scene is great. Nothing says isolation and insignificance quite like the ocean. But there's so much missing. Have you ever been to a beach in the off season? It's depressing. That salty ocean smell from the summer season is amplified during the winter with the added sent of decaying sea weed. The wind seems more harsh and abrasive which is partially due to the fact that it's cold (you're sense of touch is way more sensitive and your patience is way more thin). All of these things are lost because in a movie theater you can't feel or taste the wind.

And yet lots of people, when hearing a description of the taste of a fruit start to experience it. It feels like a phantom, transparent and intangible, but it's still there. If this phenomenon is true then why can't we use sight and sound to experience touch, taste, and smell?

For now, these fragments feel like puzzle pieces that I'm not entirely sure all go to the same picture. Hopefully they'll converge into a coherent story. Before then I'd like to thank abandoned-places.com for their lovely photographs.