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Women In Animation Launches Mentoring Pilot Program


via AWN

Women In Animation, the professional, non-profit organization for women involved in all aspects of the animation industry, has announced the launch of a professional mentoring program. Designed to empower, educate and support mentees by increasing their industry knowledge and access to information through relationships with experienced animation talent, the WIA mentoring program is open to WIA members in the greater Los Angeles area for its initial run.

The WIA mentoring pilot program is scheduled to run for six months, from October 2014 through March 2015. Based on the outcome of the pilot program, WIA hopes to expand the program to offer mentorships in an ongoing basis in Los Angeles as well as within other participating WIA chapters around the world.


Anonymous asked:

How did you motivate yourself to start your comic? I'm trying to start a comic right now, but I keep worrying about dumb things like art thieves and people who in general won't like it. How did you get past these things and begin?


Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? 

Theft and haters should probably be the least of your worries at this stage, honestly. Focus your energy on telling a good story, developing an artistic approach that complements the story, communicating effectively with your dialogue and your page layouts, working out a production schedule, and just hunkering down and doing the work (which will probably amount to more blood, sweat and tears than you can prepare for, assuming you haven’t done this before). Those are the things that are really worth troubling yourself over because that’s ultimately how the undertaking becomes fulfilling…they’re the satisfying meaty bits of a creative diet…the marrow even…
…the colorful, delightsome dehydrated marshmallows in the soggy, beige compost of your breakfast cereal…not altogether unlike Life cereal, but not exactly Life, which is a shame because that would really drive this metaphor home…like the Kool Aid man through your living room wall…
(Help me)

There will be people who won’t like your comic. It’s not hard to distinguish thoughtful criticism from ridicule and resentment, though. Filter out the former and sift through it for useful information. As to the latter, well, electronic outrage from anonymous assholes is rather a fact of life in this day and age, isn’t it? No matter who you are, what you do, what your art looks like, how you write, or what you choose to write about, there are going to be people out there who’ll glean some perverse satisfaction from telling you how much they hate it. You can’t spend your life hiding away from inevitable nonsense like that, though, and trying to tiptoe around it by making everyone happy is limiting, sterilizing, and equally futile. Come to grips with the existence of the vitriol, know that along the way at least a little of it will pelt you in the face, and though it will quite probably sting, understand that it’s often more about the individual it’s coming from and their personal issues than it is about your work…then move along because other things are more important. Do the comic for your own gratification foremost. Do it how you want to do it. Do it genuinely for your love of the art, the process, the story, the characters. When you love it, it’ll sustain your interest and will demand to be done with integrity. The quality of your output will reflect that - work really shines when you’ve loved it so much it could kill you - and the quality of the feedback you get will tend to coincide.

Art thievery is a pain in the ass, to be sure, and while it can make you feel like crumpling into a heap, lashing out, setting the internet on fire, becoming a cave hermit on impulse, crying and rage-vomiting all at the same time, incidents are fairly uncommon. When they do happen, they’re usually minor and the internal melodrama is quickly replaced with resolve to continue along and address the problem as best you can. Someone reposting something you made and taking credit for it, slapping your art on a set of table coasters and putting it up for sale in an Etsy store, compiling it with a bunch of other things into a slipshod publication or app - these things happen, they’re vexing, but they aren’t career-ending catastrophes and they’re usually not particularly detrimental to anything but your pride. For rarer but more heinous situations involving revenues and corporations that should know better, the art community at large is usually quick to come to the outspoken defense and aid of artists who have clearly been wronged. You can take sensible precautions as well, like including your copyright information on everything and registering trademarks if you’re making a business of your art.

Yes, conceivably something terrible and personally devastating could happen, but you have to weigh for yourself whether all the good that can come of putting your work out there - the people you’ll share something with, the friends you’ll make, the connections you’ll establish with other artists, the things you stand to learn, the freelance and job opportunities you’ll create for yourself - is worth the risk. I’ve had my share of art theft headaches and heartaches, but if I had to make the choice again, I wouldn’t flinch in decision to share my work online. It has made all the difference in my life and career as an artist, as it has for many others.

Well, that was a lot of words.  Sorry. I hope it contains something useful. Good luck with your comic!


Ok, so here’s the deal: While I was able to get Popcorn’s emergency vet visit paid for, it was a bit pricy, and I’d like to replace some of those funds in case another emergency comes up. I also need to get a few more things for Popcorn’s cage as now he absolutely has to be separated from the other birds. All money raised from this fundraiser/giveaway will go to my birds, especially Popcorn, who was recently injured.

My friend fyuvix is helping me out by taking art commissions for the birds. She’s an awesome artist who will digitally draw your bird (or if you don’t have a bird you can request any bird species) for the prices listed above. If you’d like to commission her for the birds, send an email to with the bird you’d like and a reference photo.

If you don’t want to commission, you can also help out Popcorn and the others by checking out this page. Right now ALL donations I receive will go directly to the birds. You can also order something for Popcorn’s new cage of the Amazon Wish List if you like. I’ll post pictures of him with any items sent to him! (Please note the etsy shop is not currently open.

This is also a giveaway post! I’m giving away a set of Pepper and Pals one inch buttons, (sorry I don’t have a pic of them yet. This vet thing was sudden so I haven’t made them yet) some of Pepper’s molted feathers, and your very own Pinocchikeet! I will be adding more bird-related goodies as well. Here’s the rules:

  • Reblog to be entered. Only one reblog counts. Likes do not count.
  • You do not have to be following me to enter but it would be awesome if you did! Hope you like birds.
  • Please have your ask box open so I can let you know if you win. You must also be willing to supply me with your address.
  • No giveaway blogs. In other words don’t reblog on a blog that you use just to reblog giveaways.
  • US and Canada only due to shipping.
  • Giveaway ends July 31st!
  • If winner does not reply with address within 72 hours of winning, a new winner will be chosen.

If this goes well, I’ll do another giveaway just for my followers. Thank you so much for your help and support. It means the world to me and my birds.

Casual Love




Friends, put on your flak jackets. It’s time to drop some honesty on yet another uncomfortable topic: love.
We use the word “love” to mean a lot of things. Throughout this post I’ll be referring to the romantic kind of love, the kind that usually involves sexual attraction, AKA “falling in love”.

Love: The Shocking Truth  

The truth about love is: it happens. A lot. It happens at appropriate times (like, when you’re in a long-term relationship with someone great), and also inappropriate ones (like, when you meet somebody at a party and have a weirdly awesome conversation and then make out in a bathroom). Love is just not all that concerned with appropriateness. 
We have a mythology surrounding romantic love that says it’s a special, rare feeling, reserved for just a few people in your whole life. It says that love takes time to develop, and that the feelings you experience at the outset of a relationship are not love, but something else (“infatuation”, “a crush”, or my favorite, “twitterpation" (see Bambi)). It also says that love is generally constant and reliable, and that falling in love is A MAJOR LIFE EVENT, about which SOMETHING MUST BE DONE! 
In summation, the plot of every romantic comedy: if you fall in love with somebody, you better go out and get ‘em - even if they’re already married and they don’t really like you and you’re their stepsister and you’re leaving for a six-year residency in Mongolia in the morning - because you’ll probably love them forever and you might not ever love anyone else. 
We are so enamored with this idea that we tend to round some feelings up to love (when you first met the person you later married), and others down to not-love (your weekend fling with a Spanish dancer). The thing is, those experiences feel remarkably similar from the inside.

That Old Feeling

Love is a feeling. It’s hot and fluttery and tingly. I get it in my guts and chest and face. The feeling is accompanied by a series of enthusiastic thoughts, such as “This person is the greatest person ever”, “I wonder how I can make this person feel good”, and/or “I want to climb onto this person and put my face close to their face and smoosh my body onto their body.”
I have felt this way, to varying degrees, towards probably a hundred different people. Actually, that’s a lie; it is way more. When I was a teenager, I felt it towards approximately three people per day. Lately, the torrent has slowed to once every month or three (I am a bit of a love-fiend, I know. I don’t think such frequency is average.) And I’m married! 
And speaking of being married, yes, I do experience this feeling towards my husband. It feels different now than it felt when we first met: softer, warmer, with more comfort and less urgency. But the love I have for my husband is surrounded by a bunch of other feelings and thoughts that are much rarer than love, in my experience. These include: a deep mutual understanding of and appreciation for each other’s personalities, values, and quirks (e.g.: he finds my love-fiendishness endearing); years of shared experience; a lot of conversations about the kind of future we’re aiming for; and plenty of similar tastes and preferences (e.g. New Orleans, humor, dogs, dark chocolate, Ray Charles, The Daily Show, preferred frequency of house cleaning/travel/sex). 
But underneath all that is the same feeling: love.
Instead of trying to deny it, or ignore it, or call it something different in each different situation, I want to call it like I feel it: I’m in love. I’m in love with my husband, several of my friends, most of the musicians who move me (including some who are dead, such as Chet Baker, who would sympathize), and a handful of people I hardly know but have had good conversations/dances/make out sessions with. I fall in love all the time. 
And really, it’s no big deal. It’s actually kind of fun, once you get used to it.

I love you. NBD.

The kids today are having a casual sex revolution. “Hookup culture” is akin to “free love”, but with more condoms and fewer hallucinogens. And I’m for it! In case you haven’t heard, I like casual sex. It’s my observation that as casual sex becomes more acceptable behavior (for men and women), it lessens the shame and anxiety associated with the sex that people are having anyway (and have been having since the dawn of time, and are going to keep having). I’m thrilled that young people are beginning to feel they have the option of exploring sex, safely and consensually, outside of the boundaries of long-term commitment. 
But why not have the option of exploring love, too, with or without a side of commitment? If we can agree that our bodies are not inherently dangerous, can’t we do the same for our hearts?
I suggest we take a page from the casual sex book here. Let’s lift some of the weighty grandiosity off the shoulders of love, and allow it to be what it is: a sweet, ephemeral, exciting feeling to experience and share.
Imagine if you could say to a casual partner, “I love you. It’s no big deal. It doesn’t mean you’re The One, or even one of the ones. It doesn’t mean you have to love me back. It doesn’t mean we have to date, or marry, or even cuddle. It doesn’t mean we have to part ways dramatically in a flurry of tears and broken dishes. It doesn’t mean I’ll love you until I die, or that I’ll still love you next year, or tomorrow.”
Then later, perhaps over brunch, you could tackle the question of whether there’s anything to do about it. All of the aforementioned - dating, marriage, cuddling, etc - are options, and there are an infinite number of other options (Skee ball, sailing around the world, double suicide). These are all things you can now choose or not choose, as two conscious adult human beings. The important distinction is that none of them is implied just by saying the word “love”.

The Point 

There are advantages to separating the wacky, butterflies-in-the-gut, unpredictable feeling of “love” from the ideally rational, cool-headed decisions and agreements of “commitment”. For one: love is just not a good enough reason to commit to somebody (trust me, I’ve tried). You need a few other ingredients: mutuality, compatibility, and availability, for starters.
The big advantage for the lover is that falling in love will feel less scary, life-threatening, and crazy-making. As long as love is theoretically reserved for people whom you want to date and possibly marry, falling in love will be confusing and dramatic. If we interpret this particular set of feelings and thoughts as an epic, life-changing event, we’ll have no choice but to get really, really attached to our beloved. We’ll throw a lot of expectations at them (“Love me back! Love me only! Love me forever!”), and feel hurt and resentful if the feeling is not mutual. We’ll imprint upon them like baby ducks, and resolve to stick with them through thick and thin, through hell or high water, through abuse and neglect and lies and bickering and frustration and mutually-assured destruction, whether or not it brings us (or anyone else) any kind of joy. 
The big advantage for the beloved is that being loved will feel less like an attack, and more like a gift. The little-discussed fact is that it’s super uncomfortable to be loved when the feeling is not mutual (see my song Please). So uncomfortable, in fact, that many of us would rather act like callous, cold-hearted assholes than be in the same room as the person who loves us. We panic, we get distant, we deny any interest or care for the other person, we stop returning their texts. But that’s not an aversion to love, or to the lover; it’s the attachment and expectation being hurled in our direction with such intensity. If love was casual, we could take it as a high compliment, say “thanks!”, and feel some warm fuzzies. We might also begin to feel some compassion for our lover (who, after all, has a stomach full of butterflies and can’t eat or sleep very well), which might allow us to make better and kinder decisions about how to respond.
If love was casual, perhaps it wouldn’t collide into our sense of identity or our plans for the future at such high velocity. It wouldn’t feel so personal. If it’s not mutual, so what? If it doesn’t turn into a relationship, so what? I have feelings and desires all the time that go unsatisfied. Sometimes (okay, a lot of times), late at night, I want Chef’s Perfect Chocolate ice cream, but Creole Creamery closes at 10pm. Do I panic? Do I call Creole Creamery and leave a series of desperate messages? Do I curl into a ball and lament that without Chef’s Perfect Chocolate, I am a broken person who is not worthy of ice cream? No. I deal. I feel my feelings, whine a little if I need to, and go without. Like a grown-ass woman.
And here’s my favorite part: if love is casual - not something rare and dramatic and potentially painful, but something common and easy and mutually enjoyable - we all get to feel more love, and share more love. 
Sounds lovely, right?

If you like this post, let me know! You can send me money and buy my music via bandcamp, or become a subscriber on patreon. To learn more about me, visit my website


I identify with this more strongly than I can fully describe. It’s full of truth, excellent points, and some lovely reminders for me personally.

"And if I may conjecture a further objection,

love is nothing to do with destined perfection.

The connection is strengthened,

the affection simply grows over time.”

- Tim Minchin, “If I Didn’t Have You”

Note that Minchin doesn’t suggest that the initial affection is not love. It’s just something that has the ability to mutate and modulate and evolve through the shared experiences of life.

I feel a great deal of love. It is an oft-present emotion in my days, and the memories (those made and those yet to happen) of the people I love fill my nights. 

If you make me laugh and smile on a regular basis, I probably love you. I feel staggering love for my family and many of my close friends. If you’ve ever been there when I really needed somebody, I love you. If your life and all of the successes and failures have fueled my own pursuits, I love you. If you can perform the Jesus role from the second meeting of Jesus and Pilate from Jesus Christ Superstar (“You hypocrites! You hate us more than him!”), I probably have some love for you too.

This love is an amazing thing in its continually positive impact on my well-being, and how it is entirely intangible and undemanding to the people I love. It requires nothing of them. They are free to ignore it or acknowledge it or cherish it or reciprocate it or something else entirely. Only with my wife, where over years a gradually increasing level of commitment has been discussed and agreed upon, is there any expectation attached to my love. 

It’s a pretty great way to live, if you ask me. I highly recommend it.


So apparently dumpster diving at gamestop is a pretty common thing to do? I read that they throw out a lot of usable games and devices and sometimes even consoles. I’d be down for that if I had a thick pair of gardening gloves and some boots and some night vision goggles

I work at Gamestop and I had a manager who relished using a hammer to smash consoles and accessories that we had to throw out just to foil the dumpster divers.

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