June 20th, 2005
So it's almost 3:00am as I start writing this and I can't sleep.
I was just looking back through old LJ entries, trying to figure out when I started working at FrightProps, being confounded by the shear number of things I have written and forgot. I think I need to make a concerted effort to write more.
I've been working for FrightProps for almost three-and-a-half years now. It's so hard to remember the fear and excitement of starting out...so bewildering to think that on my very first day Doug wasn't even there. I just sat by myself in a small corner of an unfamiliar warehouse sculpting a pair of mutilated arms. I had no idea how to sculpt, no idea how to make a mold. I had never smelled latex, never had to rip cured foam off my arm hairs. Almost four years later and I've just completed an enormous octopus prop...over 525 pounds of clay, a wooden armature that I built from scratch, a huge polyurethane mold...and now this sort of thing is expected of me. When I meet new friends and tell them what I do, can they see how improbable it is? We are all slowly becoming something other than just the boy...the girl. Scott the Prop Maker, Mary the Editor, Kelly the Social Worker, Tim the Illustrator. In a few more years these paths will seem to have been inevitable. I'm hoping tonight, by the hum of the heater and the sounds of Kathleen sleeping peacefully behind me, to remind myself of life's capacity to surprise.
I was just looking back through old LJ entries, trying to figure out when I started working at FrightProps, being confounded by the shear number of things I have written and forgot. I think I need to make a concerted effort to write more.
I've been working for FrightProps for almost three-and-a-half years now. It's so hard to remember the fear and excitement of starting out...so bewildering to think that on my very first day Doug wasn't even there. I just sat by myself in a small corner of an unfamiliar warehouse sculpting a pair of mutilated arms. I had no idea how to sculpt, no idea how to make a mold. I had never smelled latex, never had to rip cured foam off my arm hairs. Almost four years later and I've just completed an enormous octopus prop...over 525 pounds of clay, a wooden armature that I built from scratch, a huge polyurethane mold...and now this sort of thing is expected of me. When I meet new friends and tell them what I do, can they see how improbable it is? We are all slowly becoming something other than just the boy...the girl. Scott the Prop Maker, Mary the Editor, Kelly the Social Worker, Tim the Illustrator. In a few more years these paths will seem to have been inevitable. I'm hoping tonight, by the hum of the heater and the sounds of Kathleen sleeping peacefully behind me, to remind myself of life's capacity to surprise.