In 1985, my world changed.
That was the year I was introduced to the magic of Disney, and I was instantly captivated.
The movement, the storytelling, the characters—all of it drew me in and sparked a fascination with animation that has stayed with me ever since.
Back in the mid to late 80s, resources on animation weren’t as abundant or accessible as they are today. But that didn’t deter me.
I poured over every book, magazine, and article I could get my hands on, trying to understand how this magic was created. The more I learned, the more I knew: I wanted to draw.
Every day after school, I’d pick up my pencil and paper and lose myself in Disney’s characters. From Mickey Mouse to the larger-than-life villains,
I studied their shapes, gestures, and expressions with relentless passion.
It wasn’t easy at first—there were plenty of crumpled pages and frustrated sighs—but I kept going. Day after day, line after line, I honed my skills.
By immersing myself in professional techniques, I started to see improvement.
I began creating my own material, drawing characters that came from my imagination but were shaped by the lessons I learned from Disney.
Each drawing felt like a step closer to my dream: the hope that, someday, I might work for Disney itself.
Today, when I draw characters like Darkwing Duck, it feels like a tribute to my childhood self—the kid who spent hours sketching, dreaming, and believing.
Those years of studying Disney characters weren’t just about learning to draw; they were about discovering a passion that would guide me for a lifetime.
And though I may not have stepped through the gates of the Magic Kingdom as an animator, the lessons I learned from those daily drawing sessions have shaped every piece of art I created.
コメント