Early in my career, 1972-1976 or so, I thought I ought to be an illustrator. I worked very hard at cartoon images and sold a few. Children’s books especially interested me. A sample piece I created involved the misadventures of a Black Moor goldfish. I think I did some very solid character sketches of the fish and the characters she encounters. In creating the watercolor final images, though, my skills proved less than optimal and I abandoned the project. I had also begun thinking about animation, which seemed to offer a far better way of bringing my characters to life.

Over time, I realized that I can’t draw particularly well. I’m ok, but I’ve worked with people who can really draw – medical illustrators, comic book artists – and I’m nowhere near that skill level. This realization prompted me to abandon drawing altogether for many years, but then I hit a turning point and drawing took on a new meaning for me.

My closest friend and business colleague in the video world died at the young age of 43 in 1991. His death affected me profoundly. To document my experience, I drew with wild abandon, ignoring my drawing deficiency. I scribbled words around the margins to explain the pictures. The more I did it, the better I liked it. I began to use the same abandon to scratch and scribble about other aspects of my life.