I was born the same year The Lion King roared onto the big screen, landing right in the middle of the animation renaissance—a time that would come to shape my creative life. I owe a lot of my early love for animation to my mom's close friend, Denise, a remarkable woman I grew up calling my aunt. She gifted me a massive tub filled with animated treasures, not just from Disney's golden collection but also from other beloved studios of the '70s and '80s. That gift became my portal to endless worlds of color, song, and adventure.
Films like The Lion King, Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, Mulan, and The Jungle Book quickly became my go-to comfort watches. But it was Who Framed Roger Rabbit that truly cemented my lifelong passion for animation. There was something about that film—the sheer artistry, the bold storytelling, the seamless blend of live-action and hand-drawn animation—that felt like pure magic. It stood out, even in a world filled with comic book giants and CGI spectacles, because it was a love letter to the art form itself, a rare kind of creative alchemy that's yet to be replicated.
It wasn't until I turned 14 that I stumbled upon a deeper truth about the art form I cherished so much. I learned that many of these films, the ones that had shaped my childhood and sparked my imagination, were born during a desperate fight for survival. The animation industry was on the brink of collapse before the late '80s, hanging by a thread as studios faced budget cuts, executive indifference, and a rising tide of skepticism about the medium's future. But it was the passion and tireless dedication of a new wave of animators, artists who refused to give up on the magic of their craft, that kept the art form alive.
Understanding this history gave me an even deeper respect for the people who poured their hearts into these films, often fighting against the odds to create something truly special. It's one of the reasons I sometimes roll my eyes at the same studios today, knowing the giants they stand on and the passion that once drove their greatest works.