Creative writing piece, part of the text submission for Concept Art Practice module.
A Day in the Life of a Concept Artist
My alarm clock wakes me up at some ungodly hour... eight in the morning or some such nonsense. I struggle to escape the bed’s powerful and bizarre gravity and tell myself I’m never going to stay up until five am painting again.
I said the same yesterday morning as well.
‘Funny, that’, I think as I stretch and head to the kitchen to brush my teeth. Then I realise I haven’t had breakfast yet, so shouldn’t be brushing my teeth. But that’s ok because I seem to have ended up in the kitchen anyway... hmm. Need to wake up. Coffee. Toast. Better.
I manage to locate the bathroom on my second attempt and as I brush my teeth an idea for a giant, intergalactic Colgate-fuelled space-toothbrush dances across my bemused imagination. Of course, by the time I’ve finished my morning ablutions (and actually woken up) I have realised how ridiculous it sounds and pushed the idea to the back of my brain. Yes, pushed back, but never away. As a concept artist it’s always useful to hang on to crazy ideas such as these. You never know, one day I may be working on a film about deranged alien space-dentists. Stranger things have happened. Or maybe I have just imagined stranger things? Either way, I take inspiration where I can get it.
After dressing for work and grabbing my USB pen with last night’s work on it, I throw open the front door and head out into the sunshine. The glorious sunshine. The ‘too-beautiful-to-be-stuck-in-work’ shine. The ‘spend-all-day-in-the-park’ shine.
The temptation is too much. ‘Hell, I’m sure they won’t miss me for a couple of hours,’ I think as I take a detour to the local green-spot. But not before grabbing my sketchbook and emergency pencils I keep stashed by the hall table. I keep them there for moments such as these.
I feel a bit guilty as I walk in the opposite direction to the bus that would carry me to work. Like a schoolchild bunking off for the first time, I had to stop myself jumping into bushes to avoid the ‘proper’ adults who would no doubt ask ‘shouldn’t you be in work, young lady?’.
But I make it to the park without meeting anyone. I think it’s strange that there’s not many people around on a weekday morning, but soon get distracted by some squirrels. Making myself comfortable in the partial shade of a tree, I get out my sketchbook and begin to sketch their antics. Drawing from life is great practice, whether animals, humans, landscapes or... vacuum cleaners, even. Actually, vacuum cleaners can make pretty good tech-references for science-fiction concepts. Like I said, concept artists can find inspiration from anything and in everything.
‘I suppose I am technically working’, I muse as my pencil skitters over the paper. So far, I’ve filled several pages with sketches of squirrels, birds, tree bark, unusual flowers and one errant hobo asleep on a bench hugging a bag of...is that potatoes? Yes, it’s potatoes. Odd. Still, it makes an excellent still life and is good practice for improving my grasp of anatomy. And potatoes.
Well, right about now, I expect they’re busy researching some new concepts back in the office. We’ve got a new project coming up. Great news, as lately there has not been much work to do. What with the recession and everything, I’ve taken to freelancing in my spare time, which is not always as glamorous as it sounds. Sure, it’s nice to be your own boss, but it’s tough when deadlines are tight. Its even tougher when there’s no deadlines, as this generally means no work and no work means no money. Still, I stay positive and keep metaphorically prodding my agent for work. Having an agent is extremely helpful if you’re freelancing. They can help you get the clients you need and the price you want for your work. You just have to make sure that you thoroughly read any contract they push your way. It’s very important to know what artistic rights you might be signing away.
But I don’t need to worry about freelancing so much now there’s a new project in the office. We’ve landed a pitch with a major animation studio and will be contributing concept art for a new movie. Some fuzzy film about equally fuzzy animals. The story’s still being developed. I hold up my squirrel sketches and wonder if they’d count as research? I think so. I will take them along to the office later and everyone will be happy that I decided to sit in the park all morning being inspired.
First hand research is great if you can do it. It’s always best to see things for yourself, but failing that there’s always Google. Of course, when you’re using other people’s work for references, one has to be very careful one doesn’t plagiarise. It’s good practice to ask the artist’s permission before using their work. Or at the very least, credit them in some way. But we don’t need to worry about that now! I’ve made squirrel sketches!
I’m particularly happy with one of my squirrels. He’s got a lot of character, and think he might be good to develop. I start doodling some silhouettes and different versions, filling page after page until I find one that works.
I lose track of time, and before I know it, it’s nearly half-three. Oops. By the time I get to work, it will be nearly time to leave. The guilty feeling descends once more as I pack up my things and head back home. ‘I will just work extra hard tomorrow,’ I think sheepishly as I cross the road in front of the school. The absence of school children doesn’t register with me as I pass, thinking of how I am going to develop my new character. I will probably do some colour tests when I get home, but not anything too resolved as the client might not like it, or may want things changed. Once the character has been approved, I’ll start producing more detailed line-work, focusing on his costume, expression, features. And finally draw up a model sheet with a beautiful, polished concept painting to hand to the modellers. Then I say goodbye to my little squirrel, and turn my attention to the next character. I could develop the hobo maybe? He could be friends with some sort of sentient potato? No, no that’s silly. Push that back to join the mad toothbrush idea.
I get home and make myself something to eat before working some more on the squirrel character. As I wake my computer up, my eyes flick to the clock in the corner of the screen and see it’s half four. I also see that it’s Saturday, and I wasn’t supposed to be in work anyway.
Sometimes it’s difficult to be an artist and live in the real world... ‘But at least it’s more interesting,’ I think, as in my minds eye a potato chats animatedly to a hobo as they ride of into the sunset on a toothbrush.
