Pencil to Paper

Pencil to paper, it’s what I’ve been doing for my entire life.

Every day, I used my right hand to press that graphite onto those thin slices of trees trying to create the illusion of life. I was always able to convince other people that my animations were alive, but I could never convince myself. My mother, God rest her soul, used to remind me constantly, “Jimmy e’er since you was’ able ta walk youv been good at making dose picture.” I loved my mother. She wasn’t from the South; she was actually from Connecticut. She talked like that because she had lost so many teeth. I used to always laugh when she said fax because it sounded like “Fack” and that sounded like something else.

I miss those days, but now I’ve grown old and lost a bunch of teeth. I burst out laughing every time I say, “Fack” or some other sound that my mother used to pronounce horribly. But, with this age comes a lot of experience.

I’ve worked on countless cartoons which have each drove me to the brink of madness. Most directors just can’t understand that good animation doesn’t play well with time limits. Because of those directors, in my early days I had more than my share of cartoons that looked so rushed that I wished I’d never taken a part in their creation. However, those experiences helped put food on my table, just long enough for me to hone my craft. At the age of 25, I mastered the technique and found my style. I had to wait until I was 39 in order to start my own company, but it was worth the wait.

I could finally create my own ideas. I worked tirelessly trying to create my short features. Every day, I would work on the animation with the rest of my crew and every night, I would unload my creativity on to the paper in the form of cartoons.

Some might say that I must have had a gruesome life, “When do you have time for fun?” Others already know the answer, my work is play. I didn’t get my films noticed until I was 44, but it was worth the wait. Money kept flooding in and I didn’t know what to do with it. The only things that I had ever wanted in life were pencils and paper. My workers were pretty happy about this mostly because I gave them substantial raises. The rest I gave to charity.

At 50, my fingers started tingling randomly.

At 54, I started having migraines.

At 55, I would occasionally become dizzy.

At 58, I was working on a cartoon about a robber with magical abilities called The Ransom of the Eleven Sons. I wanted to be able to release the film by the time summer came around. We were behind schedule and I was yelling at my crew to hurry it up. That’s when it all started. My arm started to become weak. I had trouble understanding the apologies coming from the intern who was white with fear. I started leaning on the table. My right eye went blind and then everything was gone. I was left in darkness.

The doctors say that my stroke was severe. Ironically, it was the intern who first called 911 and I was rushed to the emergency room. I’m told that I’m lucky to be alive. That’s not how I felt about it. My right arm and face were paralyzed. The doctor told me that they couldn’t do anything about it.

I wished that I had died. I felt like I lost my purpose in life; I could no longer draw. I spent the next few years gloomily staring at the window and watching television while I let my Vice President took care of my company.

I truly believed this was the end. But, then I saw one of my very old cartoons on the television screen, it was The Life and Tales of Wacky Thomas, one of those cartoons that I wished I’d never been a part of. I laughed at how horrible the animation was; I couldn’t believe the network was actually airing this. After a while, I understood why, the story was good enough to make up for the animations flaws. Actually, this film would be legendary if the animation wasn’t done so poorly. I was inspired. I found my pencil and paper.

At the age of 60, I started drawing with my left hand and it took me about a year to become proficient with it. I used some of my money to buy the rights of The Life and Tales of Wacky Thomas. I began reanimating it and I began to rediscover my joy. When I completed the cartoon and watched it; I realized that this was the only cartoon that I truly believed to be alive.

© Copyright by Kurihi Chargualaf