You know, sometimes you just get an itch. An idea burrows into your brain and won't leave you alone. That's pretty much how this whole "weeper of mythology" thing kicked off for me. I wasn't trying to reinvent the wheel or anything. Just felt like I needed to make something, you know? Get my hands dirty, figuratively speaking, with a theme that’s been rattling around in my head.
So, this name, "weeper of mythology," it just sort of… appeared. Maybe I was reading something, or just daydreaming, who knows. But it stuck. And I thought, yeah, there’s something there. Mythology isn’t all heroes and glory; there’s a whole lot of sorrow, a lot of quiet despair. Those are the stories that tend to hook me, the ones that don't always get the big flashy adaptations.
I decided I’d try to capture some of that. My first thought was a series of short, animated loops. Nothing grand, just little visual poems. I dusted off my old graphics tablet – still works, surprisingly – and fired up some animation software. The plan was simple: pick a few lesser-known, mournful figures from various myths and try to bring a moment of their story to life. Sounds easy, right? Wrong.
The Real Grind of Getting it Done
The first hurdle was just settling on a style. I messed around for days. Tried a sketchy, charcoal look. Too messy. Tried something more painterly. Too time-consuming for animation, at least for what I had in mind. Eventually, I landed on a sort of stark, silhouette-based style with limited color palettes. Seemed to fit the mood, and, frankly, it was more manageable for a one-person operation like me working in spare moments.
Then came the actual process for each "weeper":
- Digging deep: I spent a lot of time just reading. Not just the popular myths, but trying to find those more obscure characters, the ones whose sadness felt a bit more… real. It’s amazing how many there are once you start looking.
- Sketching and storyboarding: Even for a tiny loop, you gotta plan. Lots of scribbled notes and thumbnail sketches. What’s the key emotion? What single movement can convey it? Most of these sketches ended up in the bin.
- The animation slog: Frame by frame. Even simple movements take time. There were days I’d spend hours just to get a sigh or a slow turn of the head right. Pure tedium at times, I won't lie. My computer whined, my back ached, and I drank way too much coffee.
- Sound: I even dabbled with adding some subtle soundscapes. A bit of wind, a distant echo. Nothing too intrusive, just enough to deepen the atmosphere. This was a whole other rabbit hole.
Of course, things went wrong. Oh boy, did they. Software crashes were a given. Files got corrupted. Sometimes I’d work on a piece for a week, then look at it and just… hate it. Scrap it. Start over. That’s the creative process for you, I guess. It’s not always this beautiful, flowing inspiration. A lot of it is just banging your head against the wall until something decent, or at least acceptable, comes out.
There was one particular figure, a minor water spirit I'd found in some old folklore collection, that nearly broke me. I just couldn’t get the feeling right. The animation felt stiff, the design was off. I must have redone her animation three or four times. Almost abandoned the whole project over that one. But then, one late night, something clicked. A slight change in the timing, a different curve to the posture, and suddenly, there she was. That small victory kept me going.
So, after a good few months of tinkering, frustration, and those occasional little breakthroughs, I had a small collection. A handful of these "weepers." They’re not going to set the world on fire. They’re quiet, a bit somber, and probably not for everyone. But I made them. From that nagging little idea to something tangible, or as tangible as digital bits can be.
It’s funny, this whole process. You start with something vague, you wrestle with it, you pour a bit of yourself into it, and you end up with… well, you end up with what you end up with. For me, "weeper of mythology" was less about the final product and more about the act of making it. A way to process some thoughts, explore some old stories, and just keep my hands busy. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.
