What I Learned from an Unfinished Animation

My
May 11
2 min read

or how to spend three months making one second of motion...

A boomerang with too much pressure on it

I've been a self-taught animator for quite some time now. And I thought I knew what mattered most in this field: economy and planning. At least that’s what I believed—until I decided to jump into a large-scale project again. Turns out, animation is serious business. And maybe, just maybe, I was a bit too confident in myself. Knowing yourself is such a virtue, right? eheh.

I had completed 7–8 small logo animation projects before. Nothing groundbreaking really, but still—finished is finished. Then I thought: “You know what? I think I’ve leveled up. Why not make something really sleek and cinematic?” The fantasy? A big brand knocks on my door and wants a razor-sharp logo animation. No client, no feedback, but hey—I've got vision!

So I rolled up my sleeves. Wrote a killer story. All the scenes played out clearly in my head. I said, “I'm an animator now. Let’s not waste time with storyboards or animatics. I’ll just go scene by scene. Full send.”

Spoiler: I didn’t send shit.

I jumped into scene one. Character design? Check. Rough animations? Check. Sharing? Check. More roughs? Absolutely. Every week I found myself reworking the first scene. The movement wasn’t right. This didn’t work, that didn’t land. By the fifth rough pass I thought, “Screw it, let me move on to scene two, I’ll fix this one later.” Guess what? Same chaos.

No plan. No structure. No idea what needed to happen, or when. And if you don’t respect the foundations, they’ll collapse right on top of you. I should’ve spent the first month making an ugly animatic. Emphasis on ugly. My only job at that point should’ve been to rough out every shot—camera angles, timings, narrative flow. Forget clean lines and inbetweens; just key poses with meaning would’ve been enough.

The point is: I thought I knew what I was doing. I didn’t. But this isn’t some self-loathing rant. I’m not discrediting my skills or measuring my worth by how finished this project is. This is just a case of misreading what the project needed—and for now, it’s being buried. Maybe one day it’ll crawl out of the grave as a beautifully decayed zombie of a scene. Who knows?

Until then, I’ll focus on creating moments, not masterpieces. I’ll concentrate on finishing things. Simpler stories, simpler edits. I’ll give myself time and space. Because I know my worth, and I’m walking this path with joy—even with the failures, whatever that word even means. Everything is as it is. And every delusion is just another learning opportunity.

So no, this wasn’t giving up. This was choosing a different route.That’s all for this week.See you next time, whoever—or whatever—you are.eheh.