Retrospective #1

There’s a very simple story behind this blog’s rebirth. I was reading an atelier emily article, amazed at her conciseness and elegant writing. And I was thinking, ‘sheesh, her blog is so advanced. She must be some kind of genius, award winning writer’. So I checked out the blog’s About page, and there it read-

“…trying to improve my writing…”

Improve her writing? Improve what writing? So she was weaving all this magic as a side thing? To improve? In that case, what am I doing!? Seeing a non-professional writer write so professionally filled me with a burning sense of combined envy and motivation. After all, what’s stopping me from getting that good?? So I remembered my old anime blog, completely renovated it (in her style (like a real noob)) and blazed up a post on the only anime I could think of: Kino’s Journey. And 6 posts in, my priorities have shifted from imitating blogs far better mine and stressing over stats, to…just writing, I guess. For the fun of it.

It’s all been a process of me finding my preferences away from anyone else. At first, I was a bundle of nerves, and looked to other blogs for things like word count per post, layout, writing style etc. I wanted people to look at my posts and go, ahh that looks good. That looks normal. I feel bad when I write too little (really undersold the Fantasia short) and I feel bad when I write too much (Kakukaku Shikajika). But honestly, I’m too tired to care. I want my blog to feature a variety of things, so the aim is to keep trying something new. That’s one thing I discovered: being new to this whole thing gives you way more freedom and peace of mind to really experiment. I never want to become too experienced to experiment. It’s too fun.

I’ve been more dedicated to this blog idea than I ever thought I would be. I’m really proud of myself, because I’m bad at commitment. I think the hardest part of blog writing at first was the stats. It’s common sense that stats will always be low for an up and coming blog, but my silly self worried so much about it that she ended up pumping out posts that she didn’t like just because she felt she had to put something on the blog before people (which people??) lost interest. My review of Now and Then, Here and There was the worst for this I think. I liked the show immensely, but watching it became less fun as I forced myself to finish it for the sake of having something to put on this blog. I think that was disrespectful to the show and to the blog itself as both ended up feeling like homework assignments as opposed to the fun hobby it should’ve been. In fact, I’ve been caring less about stats, and this has given more freedom to spend time on posts to make sure they’re up to a decent standard. The review of Now and Then, Here and There, had a rushed final third, that disrupted the flow that I’d tried so hard to achieve. I wonder how other bloggers do it, balance watching a show to review it, and watching a show just to watch it. I don’t ever want to watch a show again just for the sake of reviewing, it’s a tedious process. And I don’t think I’ll ever review every show I watch. One of the most recent shows I’ve been watching is Hisone to Masotan and it’s…cute. Cute animation. Cute writing. Cute music. But there’s nothing about it that makes me go, ahh, I must write about that. I’m probably not the only one who does that.

But seriously, the less I think about stats, and this blog in general, the freer I feel to watch shows I want to watch, and the more enthusiastic I feel about writing for this blog. Which is strange…Jin-Roh was definitely the most fun for this. I watched it because it was just there, and it ended up being one of my favourite posts on the blog due to just how fun it was to write for. I felt like I was a kind of detective, trying to figure out why I felt this way about that, and it led to a more engaging result. Now and Then, Here and There was much more obvious in its strengths and weaknesses and I think this made the whole process more dull because I struggled with finding a way to write it engagingly. This leads me to another issue- how does one write a review? It seems so straightforward, write what works, write what doesn’t work, and for a lot of blogs that works great. But I’m afraid of my writing becoming a boring list, as opposed to being written as something that’s actually compelling. A lot of reviewers that I like find really good ways to combine that straightforward review style with something more interesting and meandering. Demolition D+ (his scripts are amazing) and iblessall were writers whose style I was fond of, because of how their reviews were more interesting and less tied to a format, whilst keeping a clear structure and professional feel (the professional feel is debatable in Demo though…). I wanted to write like that so I studied both their scripts to feel out how they did it. My first, clumsy attempt was with (the scapegoat) Now then here and there, with that botched final third. I tried to compensate with pictures, but there were too many stupid pictures making it a pain to read. For reviews, I’ll keep it light on the pictures I think. Ultimately, they’re not necessary. It’s a more professional approach in the future.

So far, my favourite posts are the Kino’s Journey post, the review of Kakukaku Shikajika and Jin Roh. These posts were the most cathartic for me. Most fun was definitely the Akira post, which was random and silly (and those gifs were hellish), but sooo fun. The film is pretty to look at and there’s a lot to talk about. It’s obvious which post I didn’t like, so I won’t go on. I’ve decided every six posts to write a retrospective that reflects on how I’ve fared with every six posts. My desire is to improve and never stop improving. Obviously this is a tall task, especially at the glacial pace I write, and I can already see a lot of flaws in the posts I’m proud of, but oh well. I’ve got to start somewhere.

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Cool blogs/writers/posts that inspired me when writing these six posts:

washiblog– his sakuga writing is so precise and thorough. After I’d finished my post on Bill Tytla’s Chernabog, I went to his blog and realised there was so much more I could’ve done.

tamerlane– did a couple of guest posts on wave cannon motion on the differences between Western and Japanese animation, and sakuga culture and they were sooo illuminating. They really help me with how approaching animation writing.

iblessall– his posts are just fun. I read them and they take me to a place of warmth.

luminous mongoose’s review of Emma– it’s always nice when you get to see an appreciation post on something you love, and Kaoru Mori’s art is something I love. Had it not been for this post, I would not have gone back to Emma and loved it all over again.

I read this post after I’d published my 6th post, but it was such an interesting perspective of Nora’s character (Noragami). Irina does good work 😄

And finally Rodrovich’s Sporadic Thought-Precipitator. What a name. It really captures the eclectic spirit of the blog, which focuses on music as well as anime. Rodrovich is a really well rounded writer; his post on k-pop music was so sharp, it almost sold me on k-pop. Almost.

I want to give a huge thanks to MagicConan14 for mentioning my Kino’s Journey post in their monthly round up of anime posts. It was such an honour and I’m glad people enjoyed the post. And thank you to my followers. It’s a small blog, but I really want to write some great things on here. Thanks for checking it out.

So yeah. I think that’s it. See you in six posts’ time 🤗

Kakukaku Shikajika: Portrait of an Artist

This post contains mild spoilers for Akiko Higashimura’s autobiographical manga, Kakukaku Shikajika. It really relies on your knowledge of the manga, so I recommend you check it out before reading this post, which honestly doesn’t do the manga any justice. It’s really good 🙂

I discovered Kakukaku Shikajika through Manben, a documentary series produced by Naoki Urasawa with the aim of providing insight into the working habits of professional mangaka. Before that, the world of manga-making had been mystical, hidden behind the lie of effortless, untrained talent. Manben brought the artists down to something close to human, and Akiko Higashimura was the first artist to be featured. I was hesitant; I wasn’t a fan of Higashimura’s style. But, for whatever reason, that episode stuck by me. Akiko Higashimura draws like a master, her pen flying across the page at record speed. It was fascinating to experience an artist’s performance without even being a fan of the end product. I think, I was struck by her ability to just draw.

Drawing is the recurring theme of Kakukaku Shikajika. Obviously, since it is Higashimura’s autobiographical tale of how she got into manga, but the story takes drawing on a more personal, introspective level. I had never seen mangaka as being in love with art itself- I felt a strange emotional disconnect; the drawings were merely being printed out, secondary to the story. I know, it makes no sense! But that’s just the way it was. I carried that attitude into Kakukaku Shikajika and initially, it was no different. Akiko Higashimura paints her younger self as this grandiose, self-obsessed diva with an apocalyptic ego. Her head is so firmly in the clouds that it becomes clear her desire to become a mangaka isn’t one she treats with much weight.

That’s where Sensei comes in. Sensei: enigmatic, off-kilter, innocent, over-eager. His hardworking ethic and straightfaced, ridiculous seriousness form a sharp contrast to Akiko’s vapid uber-teenage behaviour, but it’s fun and funny. In those early chapters, Higashimura flexes her strengths in gag comedy to create nostalgic chaos, as we see Sensei bully his students into better art technique. However, it becomes clear that Sensei, for all his harsh words and acidic temperament, is in love with art. It’s a pure, childish love, the love of someone with complete faith. It’s total self-discipline. Akiko goes along with his regiment, but without true understanding of the gift he’s bestowing on her. She’s too young, pig-headed and naive. Years later, she will look back and think, “Ah, why didn’t I realise sooner?”

University happens. It’s Akiko’s dream, to study in an art university and debut her manga whilst in uni. There’s supplies, studios, beautiful models to be painted, professional tutors to mark your work, the atmosphere of being with other talented, driven art students. It’s perfect. It’s the breeding ground for growth and Akiko is ready. Or is she? The irony is that under stress, surrounded by schoolwork, being beaten by a crotchety art teacher, Akiko draws fine. But with all the resources in the world, Akiko just can’t draw. She thinking too much about it, being too impatient. She’s stuck.

There’s something Higashimura says as she looks back at this period of her life:

“Drawing means being covered in charcoal, reeking of paint, intently moving your hand, thing not going your way, struggling over the paper, and while continuing to struggle, whether unexpectedly or inevitable, every once in a while, there’s a moment when you find merely a single stroke you find satisfying. Bit by bit, you take that stroke and connect and build upon it, and just simply repeat it.”

Before you find that stroke, art is agonizing. You’re on edge, the marks you put on paper don’t make sense, and everything looks ugly. Staying patient in that period takes serious self-discipline, and when you’re stressed, depressed, nervous, tired, it’s hard to take a painting past that stage. Things have to look ugly before they can be beautiful. It’s nature, but it’s hard to remember when you’re trying out a new medium and you’re painfully aware of every stroke you make across the page.

So we watch as she slowly abandons painting for play, for good times. Her palette dries up and her brushes turn hard. And we watch her watch herself becoming apathetic to the medium, as art block and laziness turns her love for art sour. She forgets Sensei. The desire is still there (and the guilt, like a lump in her stomach) but she can’t help it. For the first time, Akiko can’t draw. She’s thinking too much, and thinking too little. I’ve been there, I thought, whilst reading this manga. I’ve been there and it hurts. I remembered my love for art, and I missed my love for art, but I wasn’t chasing it. I wasn’t running after it, clamouring it back. That hurt the most- that I had stopped chasing after something that I had loved so much. I had stopped caring.

For me that period lasted a handful of months, but for Akiko it lasts the four years she’s at university. She produces nothing of worth, wasting her parents’ hard earned cash to mess about with a bunch of similarly demotivated, slacker classmates. At the end of 4 years, she has nothing to show for it but unemployment, as Japan moves into the worst phases of its recession. She returns home a ‘vagrant’ and is forced to take up work in her father’s company to make up rent and food. In the meanwhile, Sensei employs her as a teacher to new students in his art group, who are now in her position of working towards art school. There’s a lot of emotion here: her exhaustion in her father’s company, her frustration in Sensei’s classes and it all comes to a head when at her breaking point, completely devoid of art, finally, finally picks up the pencil and starts to draw again. Ironic, but very human. She’s still got a long way to go, but it’s a start. And trust me, Akiko has not changed much. She’s still childish, selfish, insensitive. In her excitement, she repeats the same old mistakes. She forgets Sensei. Looking back at the age of 35, with hindsight and new maturity, she realises just how much she owes him. Just how much she’s always owed him. How he, without knowing, gave her so much strength and so much discipline, that later on, when life hits Higashimura again, she can still pick up that pencil and draw.

The love of drawing is embodied in Sensei. He’s hyperactive, annoyingly dedicated, with a simplistic view of the world. But he loves art. It’s his cure-all for every ailment. Feeling sick? Draw. Feeling mad? Draw. Feeling sad? Draw. Draw. Draw. His attitude can be double-edged sword (especially for the perpetually lazy and demotivated Akiko), but his earnestness is disarming. His love for art and his identity are so intertwined that, as the manga came to its heartrending finale, I could no longer tell the two apart. To whom had Higashimura dedicated this manga? Her sensei? Or to drawing? Where did one start and the other end? And proof of this man’s love for drawing lives on in Higashimura herself, who draws with alarming speed and accuracy and has crunched out a vast number of series in her lucrative 20 year career. I’m sure he’s proud.

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I stand on the edge of a precipice. Soon I will be thrown off the edge into the uncertainty of adulthood. For now, I’m clinging on, trying to enjoy the rest of my teenage-hood and not think of all the years I’ve wasted. I think about art a lot. I’m not like Akiko- our backgrounds are different, our cultures are different, our parents are different. I’m slowly edging into medicine, not because I like it, but because it’s what’s sensible and I never want to be unemployed. But I still dream of silly things, like becoming an animator or a screenwriter or even a director. I want to work in film and television. I want to revolutionise animation. I want people to say my name with awe. I want pretentious interviews and tons of Oscars. But…how? What time do I have? These next two years are going to be crucial for me as I work hard to get respectable grades, but also for art. Where will it fit into all this? Medicine isn’t my passion, but what if–what if it becomes my passion? What if, in 10 years’ time, I look at the me now and think, ‘Wow, so unrealistic, such an idiot’? I don’t want that to happen. Or what if, 10 years from now, I’m still craving art? I’m still becoming a doctor, headed firmly down that route, yet my dreams of success are smeared with paint and charcoal, hunched over an animator’s desk, bringing a character to life? Which is worse? Which is better?

Higashimura concludes that “all people who draw were born to do that”. Is that really true? I don’t know. But for now, for the me in this moment, I have to pick up that pencil. It’s all I can do. Just draw. Draw. Draw.