ideas : People : stories.
the Human Being stuff
Since the 1970's Majuli islander Jadav Payeng has been planting trees in order to save his island. To date he has single handedly planted a forest larger than Central Park NYC. His forest has transformed what was once a barren wasteland, into a lush oasis.
Above my computer at work, a quote reads, “You know what’s stupid . . . crying, whining and complaining about your situation while doing absolutely nothing to try and change it.”
People like Jadav Payeng embody that truth.
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How satisfying is that?
What’s crazy is, with the addition of the music, it seems so joyful. Yet, when considering the amount of time, effort, man-power, and environmental factors (rain, cold, ice, ect), I cannot imagine how the laborours endured. Or the plans.
The bridge constructed is the real-life Charles Bridge in Prague, which took several decades to build!
This, From Amusing Planet, helps put the construction into some perspective.
Construction of the Charles Bridge started in 1357, under the auspices of King Charles IV, but it was not completed until the beginning of the 15th century. The bridge has 16 arches and 15 pillars, each shielded by ice guards. It’s 512 meters long and nearly 10 meters wide. The balustrade is decorated with 30 statues and statuaries depicting various saints and patron saints, although these were erected much later, between 1683 and 1714. To preserve these statues, they were replaced with replicas during the 1960s. The originals are at Prague’s National Museum.
Until the middle of the 19th century, the Charles Bridge was the only crossing on river Vltava, which made the bridge an important connection between Prague Castle and the city’s Old Town and adjacent areas.
As the only crossing, I can imagine it garnered it’s fair share of wages. Which is why, I think, this construction is so interesting. Because King Charles the IV would never see its completion, yet he deemed it worthy to build. And so did everyone else who followed.
In our current political climate, can you imagine a string of leaders who take up the ideas and plans of the president prior?
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I have recently been extremely busy. With COVI-19 impacting my school, working towards a doctorate, trying to by our first home, and writing for teacher.org, there has been limited time for almost anything else.
Then, I came across these two videos, both of which have inspired the hell out of me.
The first, A Mile and Hour is something I have modified slightly and incorporated into my monthly life (one Saturday a month). It’s brilliant.
The second is equally brilliant, but for a slightly different purpose: financial constraints. As a single income household, and educator, and way more ideas and plans than I can afford, creating purposeful and useful spaces out of junk has already impacted my life. From office space, garage storage, to our newly installed MakerSpace (at my school), I have installed this philosophy and absolutely friggen love it!
In varying degrees, we all have constraints. Most often it is time and finances.
Not any longer.
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-N- Stuff : On Living : Inspiration. : Beau Miles
“If history has taught us anything it is that the world is an extremely unreliable critique.”
I really appreciated this video, and for a variety of reasons. For one, it was really well done! Especially the scene with the tea. For some reason, watching that little piece of paper that is connected to the tea bag drift down the mug as the water pushed the tea bag to the top was so incredibly satisfying and real. So too was the tension, the life, and the moments of every day married life.
There was also a great deal that I could relate to.
Strangely, one of them was a naked neighbor. While living in China, we absolutely saw the lives of others who lived just across the way. And yes, one of them loved to live life naked, and without curtains. Fortunately, our relationship with him was more like that of Ugly Naked Guy from Friends. We never knew him or met him outside on the street. We just noticed him, as we did the dishes or poured ourselves a late night tea. We never ordered binoculars.
We do, however, find ourselves much like the married couple in that we can sometimes spend time in our days wishing for other things. Things like peace and quiet and the ability to finish conversations. Or, just as the short film portrays, to be young and vibrant and social again. At times we even wish that life were different. That we were different.
Sometimes, we want to be young again.
And in that regard, this short film hit close to home. Which is why the ending - the reminder - was all the more powerful: life is not greener on the other side, it is greener where we water it.
And in order to water it, one must be present. Which I can often times have a difficult time doing. So too does my wife. She just does it in a different direction. While she tends to want to redo the past; I often long for a better future. Left alone, neither is all that helpful, but both have their role.
Just like the two neighbors experienced, considering the past and the mistakes made can impact and improve the future. It can also dull the present. Planning for a better future requires analyzing and improving the now - which is great! But it can also pull the joy out of the present.
In order to be healthy, both perspectives require a stable and consistent dose of living in and absorbing the present. Be it with a newly discovered relationship and the spontaneity and freedom it allows, or an experience and a routine relationship that is filled with diapers, bills, and occasional nights off, it is essential that we turn our backs to the window and absorb the present. Because whether we like it or not, it’s what we have. And whether we believe it or not, we have control over it. As well as our perceptions of it.
And that, for me at least, is an encouraging thought. It is also a great reminder to put away the phone, get on the floor with the kids or crawl onto the couch with my wife - no matter how tired I am.
If I don’t, I’ll spend my days staring out windows, missing and wishing for life.
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There’s a lot here worth mentioning, but perhaps the greatest advice is, “Being original doesn’t mean being first. It means being different and better.”
Coupled with his next TEDTalk, “Are you a Giver or a Taker?”, the concept of being different and better takes on a whole new weight of responsibility. Being “better” doesn’t mean beating out the competition or winning, it can (and perhaps should) mean being more helpful.
Some of my favorite quotes:
“Not all takers are narcissists. Some are just givers who got burnt one too many times.”
Protect the Givers from Burnout
Five Minute Favor:Find small ways to add large value to other people’s lives
Lincioni
Encourage Help-seeking
Givers must recognize that it’s okay to be a receive too
Get the Right People on the Bus
One taker can ruin the givers
One giver gets bombarded by the takers
“Agreeableness and disagreeableness is your outer vernier. How pleasant is it to interact with you? Whereas giving and taking are more of your inner motives. What are your values, your intentions for others?
“Disagreeable givers are the most undervalued people in our organizations because they are the ones that give us critical feedback that no one wants to hear but everyone needs to hear.”
"Success is not about winning a competition, its all about contribution . . . “the best way to succeed is to help other people succeed.”
Pronoia: the belief that other people are plotting your well being.
For more on . . .
-N- Stuff : Humanity : Adam Grant : TEDTalks
I thought this year couldn’t get any worse. Then this dropped.
Holy friggen hell.
Blockbuster had the option to BUY Netflix, but chose not to. From what I’ve heard, its because a large percentage of their revenue came from late fees, and Netflix didn’t have any.
Interesting.
Man. What a time we are in right now.
If you’re anything like me, you’re on information overload. If you’re also like me (which, lucky you), you are itching for something outside of what is currently driving all conversations and news media outlets.
I hope this can help.
I’ve broken my favorite recent podcasts into two groups: pre COVID and post. Because even the podcast world is consumed with it right now, there was a time before it was all consuming. However, there are still some really good, really refreshing discussions out there about the COVID-19 virus that not only help us shift into or maintain a positive perspective, they just look at this whole thing from a different angel, which is radically refreshing.
Here are my favorites of the past month-ish. Happy listening!!!
Podcasts that I found inspiring before this epidemic took over our lives and all sound waves.
The Worst Game Ever, by 99% Invisible
Deep within the National Museum of American History’s vaults is a battered Atari case containing what’s known as “the worst video game of all time.” The game is E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and it was so bad that not even the might of Steven Spielberg could save it. It was so loathsome that all remaining copies were buried deep in the desert. And it was so horrible that it’s blamed for the collapse of the American home video game industry in the early 1980s.
For educators, this is a must. He may not be talking about your classroom, but he is absolutely talking about your classroom! If we were to look at education the way the gaming industry looks at games, we would be in a much different, much better place.
That’s Just Not Good Enough, by At the Table With Patrick Lencioni:
One of, if not the most, convicting podcast in the bunch. If nothing else, listen to this one. Super good. Crazy challenging.
Alan Weiss, Becoming a Fearless Leader, by Smart People Podcast:
Perhaps the most abstract or even controversial, it is packed full of nuggets and ideas that are absolutely worth hearing. I found it inspiring.
Podcasts I found inspiring since the epidemic.
This is Chance! Redux, by 99% Invisible:
"It was the middle of the night on March 27, 1964. Earlier that evening, the second-biggest earthquake ever measured at the time had hit Anchorage, Alaska. 115 people died." Yet, this story is full of hope and is a sort of model for how we can and should be living our lives amidst pain and destruction. Which is exactly the kind of story we need right now.
Leadership Doesn't Stop, by At the Table With Patrick Lencioni:
It might seem that this applies only to those with "leadership" titles, but truly, it works for us all. I strongly encourage this for everyone.
Brené on Comparative Suffering, the 50/50 Myth, and Settling the Ball, by Brene Brown:
An extremely encouraging podcast about where we are, how to have great and intentional conversations with our loved ones during this time, and where to go from here. Really, really good.
She has another episode worth listening to, Brene on FFT (F***ing First Times) which is also really, really good. It could be condensed into about 20 minutes, if she were to get rid of all the side stories, but when she talks honest about FFT’s, it's golden.
An Unlikely Superpower, by Invisibilia:
At the age of 60, a Scottish woman named Joy Milne discovers she has a biological gift that allows her to see things that will happen in the future that no one else can see. A look at how we think about the future, and the important ways the future shapes the present.
Her ending monologue is spot-on perfect and something we all
The Side Effects of Social Distancing, by Freakonomics
In just a few weeks, the novel coronavirus has undone a century’s worth of our economic and social habits. What consequences will this have on our future — and is there a silver lining in this very black pandemic cloud?
Where ever you are, stay safe. Stay strong. Happy listening.
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There is just so much about this video that I love.
One, his perspective on winning, on greatness, and on how we handle moments of power: “to give a voice to the voiceless.” For whatever reason, those who can act have been given a platform from which to stand and an allowance into our homes and minds and hearts. For many, that is an incomprehensible responsibility, and for many others an opportunity for further gain and self adulation. Those who use that platform for the benefit of others are the ones that no only last the test of time, they significantly impact the world and make it a better place.
Two, his perspective on animals and sentient beings. What I love about this is that it isn’t popular, that it isn’t something I believe in, and that it is probably easily considered radical. But we need people like this (to an extent) because it keeps bringing us back to the center. Without people who challenge our core beliefs, who question our way of living, or who critique our most basic understandings of life (like eating meat), we would easily fall off the cliff of radicalism. Us meat eaters need the Joaguin’s of the world to bring us back to center. And he needs the meat eaters of the world to pull him and his circle back.
Three, this whole damn thought:
We fear the idea of personal change because we think we have to sacrifice something to give something up. But human beings at our best are so inventive and creative and ingenious, and I think that when we use love and compassion as our guiding principles, we can create, develop, and implement systems of change that are beneficial to all sentient beings and the environment . . .
I have been a scoundrel in my life. I’ve been selfish, I’ve been cruel at times, hard to work with, and ungrateful. But so many of you in this room have given me a second chance. And I think that’s when we’re at our best, when we support each other - not when we cancel each other out for past mistakes, but when we help each other to grow, when we educate each other, when we guide each other towards redemption. That is the best of humanity . . .
Run to the rescue with love, and peace will follow.
Soon after watching Joaquin’s speech, I stumbled across this one, by Kurt Vonnegut, and it reminded me of an Austin Kleon Tweet where he mentioned how much he enjoyed reading several books at once because at times it seemed like they were “having a conversation with each other.”
I feel the same about Kurt and Joaquin.
Although a bit abstract in their connection, where I felt Mr. Vonnegut was contributing to the discussion was this. Joaquin was attempting to explain the best of humanity, to help each other find redemption. Vonnegut clarifies what many of us are thinking, “I’m a human too,” and my story looks radically different than hers or his or that person’s over there. Which is fine, because although we each have our own personal story with various possible story lines, the purpose of our story, of all GOOD stories, is to help each other find redemption.
That is the best of humanity! And we are all capable of discovering it, no matter where our story starts.
Unless, of course, you are destined to be a cockroach.
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Using .50 caliber shells for necklaces . . . can you imagine?
I love, too, that right after he says it, the music in the background softly sings, “That ain’t right.” Hilarious. Yet true.
Sometimes, imagining what our country once was is almost impossible. But then I take a step back and ask, “Are we that much different now?” Sometimes, it seems, we’ve simply changed the name of the city, the politician, and the reason for our hate and discrimination.
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Every so often, my children struggle with the “I am’s” of who they are. The “I am” of who they are currently, the “I am” of who others see in them, the “I am” of who they were, and the “I am” of who they want to be.
A few nights ago was one of those times.
So I had them draw a picture of themselves and then asked them, “When you look at yourself, what are five things you want people to say about you?” The clicking an clacking of crayons scribing little words and simple phrases instantly filled the dining room. I sat and watched. I listened. And I worked on my own.
My plan was to discuss the power of our actions because my kids, like many others, don’t want to be perceived as bossy, unkind, selfish, and so on. At times, however, their actions suggest otherwise, and I wanted them to understand that just because they think something about themselves doesn’t mean that is how they are perceived. Our actions define who we are, not our words.
As is often the case, however - at least in my family - the conversation took a turn and headed in another direction.
“I’m cool,” and “fun” Zion wrote, asking how to spell every word.
“Try sounding them on your own,” I said. And she did, adding, “Tuf, butiful,” and “nis.”
“Artistic,” Eden wrote in pink, then, switching to purple, “beautiful, athletic, nice.” She struggled a bit for her fifth. After a few minutes of thought, she witched back to pink and wrote, “funny.”
Judah’s were written in gray, “not ugly, nice, humorous, somewhat athletic, kinda smart.” With a black crayon, I crossed out “not ugly” and wrote “handsome,” but he didn’t like that. I also crossed out “somewhat” and “kinda,” and that really frustrated him, “You asked my for my opinion, and this is what I want!”
“Why though?” I asked, knowing he was struggling a bit in school with identity and feeling a bit on the outs, “Why do you only want to be kinda smart or somewhat athletic?” I pointed to my black markings, “Why don’t you want to be handsome?”
“Because I don’t want to stand out,” he said, tears beginning to swell in the corners of his eyes, “I don’t want everyone to notice me.”
My initial plan of discussion began to change course. Eden and Zion stopped coloring and looked at their older brother.
“What’s so wrong about being noticed?” I asked.
“I just don’t like it,” he said, and my father-heart broke.
“Comer here,” I said, grabbing the crayons and placing them back into the bucket. “Come sit with me for a minute.” We walked to the living room. He sat on the oversized chair and I sat on the floor, arms across his lap. Eden snuggled in next to me, as she has come to do in recent months, just to listen. Zion kept coloring for a while, then headed off to play dog with her younger brother.
“You’re a Miller,” I said to Judah, “And that means when we do something, whatever is, be it sport, school work, yard work, coloring, whatever, we do our very best.”
“But why can’t I do my best and not be the best?” he asked, tears still on the brink.
“Why can’t you be the best?” I asked, feeling a bit of frustration welling in my stomach, “What’s wrong with that?”
“Because I don’t want to be arrogant. I don’t want to think I’m better than everybody else.” A tear lunged down his cheek.
“Why does being good mean you have to think you’re better than everybody else?” I asked, somewhat knowing the answer.
He shrugged his shoulders, “It just always seems that way.” Faces of kids Judah has grown up with flashed through my head. Kids who were talented in various areas but also selfish and unkind to most everyone who wasn’t up to their standards.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” I said, “You can be both great and nice?”
“Why does it matter?” Judah asked, “Why can’t I just be good? Why do I have to be great?”
Eden held her knees, Judah shifted in his seat, and I felt a heat flash through my neck and up through my face, This isn’t working I thought to myself, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
Quotes from inspirational books clogged themselves in my throat. They tasted like acid. I swallowed them down.
“Because,” I said, stalling, thinking, and feeling completely lost. What am I doing? What am I saying? I held Judah’s hand, stared at the scar on his arm, and sat quietly. Eden leaned against my arm, Judah looked out the window, and my mind wondered quickly through the past few years. Suddenly, hundreds of thoughts and memories and moments began to flood my head, of Judah and Eden struggling with identity and confidence, of them believing most everything they do isn’t good enough, that their gifts and talents and thoughts have little worth; that they’re “different.” An answer began to form.
It’s funny how our brains work, how they can take milliseconds to work through years of images and emotions, how it can tie them together in a single linear story with crisp and sudden clarity, and then suddenly produce an intelligent (or, at the very least, coherent) thought.
“Judah,” I said, the thought beginning to take shape, “I don’t want you to be great for your sake, so that you can get the glory and praise. I want you to be great for other people’s sake.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. Eden lifted her head from my shoulder.
“Let’s say you had a hundred dollars in your wallet, but because you hadn’t looked for a long time, you only thought you had twenty.”
He looked at me skeptically, with a look that said, “I would never forget that I had one-hundred dollars.”
“I know,” I said, “But just pretend, okay?”
He nodded. Eden began to chew her nails.
“So you have a hundred but only think you have twenty, and I come home from work, stressed and terrified because I had miscalculated our budget and now we were a hundred dollars short and our heating bill is due in a few hours. You hear Mom and I talking, and as you press your ear to the door to hear more clearly, you catch me saying, ‘If I don’t pay it soon, they’re going to shut off the power and we won’t be able to heat the house.’”
Judah’s eyes widen slightly because with almost two months of below freezing temperatures, he knows what that means.
“So you run over,” I continue, “and say, ‘Dad, I have twenty dollars you can have,’ and you hand it to me with joy in your heart, knowing you can help.” His eyes stay with me and I know he’s tracking along. “And I take it, grateful and joyful that my son is so willing to give and to love our family, but I know it isn’t enough. That although the gesture is sweet and beautiful, it doesn’t really matter because we’re still far from paying the bill and soon, everyone will be freezing cold.” Judah nods and Eden, still against my arm, stares.
“But if you had known that you had one-hundred dollars instead of twenty,” I continue, “you could have helped fully and completely. You could have paid the bill for us and everyone would have been nice and warm, right?” And he nods again.
And that’s just where I need him to be.
“We don’t pursue greatness so we can bring honor and praise to ourselves,” I tell him, holding his thigh and looking into his eyes, “we pursue greatness because it allows us more and greater opportunities to help more people. If you have one-hundred dollars but only think you have twenty, you can only provide twenty dollars worth of help. But if you have a hundred, if you can look in the mirror and say, ‘I’ve worked really hard and now I have a hundred dollars to give away,’ think of how much more you can bless others?” He nods again.
“But Judah,” I say, holding his hand and wrapping the other around Eden, “and Eden, you both have some amazing gifts. They need to be worked on and refined for sure, but you have amazing gifts. You’re healthy, your smart, your athletic, your artistic, and a million other things - you are truly gifted and talented kids. But right now, you believe you only have twenty dollars in your wallet, which means you are losing chances to truly help and bless others.”
They both nod.
“And that’s why I want and care about you being great,” I say, “Not because I want you to be popular or praised, but because I want you to serve and help as many people as possible. I want you to make a huge difference. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Eden says. Judah nods, as he tends to do when he truly gets something.
“Good,” I say, now go give your mom some hugs and then brush your teeth.” They scamper off, racing and pushing and arguing, like they do every. single. night. Then, they come to me, wrap their arms around my waste, say, “I love you,” and turn for their bedrooms. “Judah, Eden,” I say. They turn in unison, “You’re worth one-hundred thousand dollars, not just a hundred.” They smile and turn and race to bed.
That’s why we become great. So that we can help others. So that we can make a difference. And that is what so many kids - so many people - are missing. In service of others, that’s where we find our worth, our purpose, and our hope within this mess of life. Not in spending more time loving ourselves.
We each have a great a mighty worth. What a blessing it is to discover unique and exciting and sometimes simple ways to give it away.
For more on . . .
I tend to watch these quite often, but hardly ever post. And I’m not entirely sure why. But this one really got my attention and seemed more appropriate than most to post.
I especially loved the line, “Beasts love the process just as much as they love the prize.” And of course, “Be phenomenal; be forgotten.”
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As always, my goal for the year was 30 books. I finished with 34.
My Top Five Recommendations from the Year, in no particular order:
5. On Mental Toughness, by Harvard Business Review
4. Why Courage Matters : The Way to a Braver Life, by John McCain
3. When: the Scientific Secrets of Perfect Timing, by Daniel Pink
2. Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens
1. Get Out There : Normalize Greatness
Honorable Mentions:
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-N- Stuff : Books : Reading Log
I’ve mentioned before that the first post of every new year is difficult because it seems to set the tone for the year. Last year, after posting a comic strip from Calvin and Hobbs that highlighted the hope of coming adventure, the year was exactly that! Full of road trips, camping, Spartan races, and many large and small adventures. It was great! And I for sure don’t want that part of our family identity to flounder. But I also want them - and other aspects of life - to improve.
Take, for example, our recent vaunt through the streets of downtown Pittsburgh. Our train from Philly to Montana had a four hour layover so we tried to find a Starbucks to pass the time . . . in the middle of the night . . . with our umpteen bags of luggage dangling from our arms and faces. It was terrible. But it was also a great memory that we’ll share forever! It could also be so, so much better. If only I were better at being intentional (I know, kind of an easy/overly used word, but so what! It works).
I still don’t want to be boring or wasteful with my time and life. I do, however, want to be a bit more purposeful with the day to day that defines them. Recently, the specifics of what that could look like has manifested itself in three brilliant videos.
This is how I want to intentionally view my day to day. As music.
When something is off or frustrating its okay because the song isn’t over.
When something is beautiful and sweet, enjoy and relax. Smile.
Or, when something is, “meh,” look for the birds, see the melody. Enjoy the music.
Where this gets most difficult is that this has to be a choice, a day in and day out intentionally to see beyond the fuss and muck, the boring and mundane. And that, at times, can be difficult. But also worth it. Because the ending product is music, sweet music, and not the ugly cawing of murdering crows.
First off. I’m not crying, you are.
Second, there are a few easy takeaways from this. One, to make my wife feel more special. It’s easy to get trapped in the normalcy of life, to expect what was once new and thrilling or sweet, and no longer hearing the music of her life. I know I’m often guilty of doing so. This video reminded me to make the time, the effort, and the fun to love my wife and show her just how special she is. Because she’s worth it.
The second is this. A proposal is (I’m guessing) always special and a moment worth remembering, even the ones that required very little planning. The great ones, however, the kind of ones that make grown men cry are the ones that embrace planning and details and make sure it isn’t just an experience. They are intentional!! Which allows for one helluva an EPIC MOMENT!!! I have found that throughout my short adult life, I have had many experiences and therefore great stories to tell. But I also have very few EPIC MOMENTS!!! because I don’t plan. I just do.
This year and in the ones to come, I need to be intentional about creating at least one EPIC MOMENT each and every year. And with my oldest turning 13 this year, I think this year is covered.
There is a lot here, and for me to unpack it completely would probably result in a full and lengthy blog all its own. And ain’t nobody got time for that.
Instead, I’ll focus on a few things:
How one person inspired so many to do something so great. The montage at the end, when the narrator is describing why they did this, is truly inspiring. I love how he didn’t categorize his friendships throughout his life (high school friends, college friends, etc.), but merged them. And, how all of them, from all over the country, felt that something “a bit over the top” was a “fitting tribute to the friend who has always been the first to step up and make something happen for the rest of us.” I want to be this kind of friend.
Life and relationships. Again, from the narrator: “Even though this may seem a bit ridiculous, I would argue that it is a rare thing, to be able to celebrate a friendship by bringing together everyone’s creative energy and hard earned cash, to pull off a series of events that we will talk about for the rest of our lives. We’ve been doing it for each other since we’ve met. Different personalities, different strengths and weaknesses. Giving and taking, pushing and pulling, to get the best out of one another. I think that’s what life is all about. Joining an army of sorts, and fighting for the right reasons. Having each other’s back, and making sure we all enjoy life as much as possible.” Not a bad way to sum it all up.
Be Rambo. “In the face of danger, or heartache and pain, or lack of confidence, he’s always been there to provide laughter and a positive perspective. To lift us up. Inspire us. And show us how to be a bad ass in all aspects of life.” I want to be this kind of friend, husband, father, principal. I want to be Rambo.
In short, my takeaway from this film and carry with me through 2020 is to intentionally “stay positive. Stay creative. And keep each other laughing.”
(Side note. The last scene from Rambo for a Day, the “God didn’t make Rambo, I did” scene. That part really got me. Because it’s true. I would venture to say that the bulk of who Dana is was created by his dad. And the fact that his friends knew his father needed to be there - that he would WANT to be there - speaks a whole lot of feelings to me, as a son and a father. Damn.)
My word for 2020 is intentionality and these videos helped me flesh that out a bit.
Good luck to you and your new year’s ambitions!!! It’s gonna go fast:)
I never knew there was a Best Illusion of the Year contest, but now that I do, I’m stoked. I’m also in complete agreement. This optical illusion is ridiculous.
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I just love this.
Also, holy crap ER and Game of a Thrones!!!
In this episode of Vox Almanac, Vox’s Phil Edwards explores the beginning of rotoscoping, a technique animators can use to create realistic motion. Invented by Max Fleischer of Fleischer Studios (and echoed and practiced by many others), it involves taking filmed footage and using it as a traceable model for animation. The results are fluid and natural in a way animation had never been before (via).
I just love short documentaries like this, where we see the evolution of animation - from dancing ghosts to The Hulk. I tend to see where we are, not where we’ve been, and lose sight of all the minds and steps and beautiful moments all in between.
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