Here at the beginning of things, I feel compelled to write a few words about the remarkable path that's led the Kevin Workman Foundation's creation. For while the Foundation exists to continue the life's passion of a truly singular individual, what I've found most striking about its start-up journey has been the incredible loyalty, generosity, and passion in the extended network of those Kevin knew and touched. An incredible amount of support has flowed from this rich tapestry of Kevin's former friends and acquaintances.
There are many, many crucial supporters who I'll let introduce themselves in their own time, but here I want to specifically thank Brian for his outstanding advice and mad web skills, and René for being our partner in crime at X-Sanguin with a deeply insightful eye for artist and industry outreach. Meeting, collaborating, and generally being in-cahoots-with such a fine cast of characters has been my greatest joy in launching the Foundation. For me, this labor of love is all about the people and the stories that brought them here.
Creative people have always fascinated me, certainly at least as much as their art. Now sure, the creation, the art, this was what captured my attention first, especially in my youth: That mind-blowing video game, grand sci-fi novel, soaring anime saga, gritty manga and graphic novel. Yet for me what's most compelling is the person behind the art. I devour book jacket back covers, blogs, essays, and panels with a particularly focused level of geekery. Artists, writers, game developers (Especially back when they were called "programmers" and you only needed one to write a game)-- I idolized them when I was young, emulated them when I could, envied them when I "grew up". I wanted to know their origin stories. And sometimes I got a chance to ask them on occasions when, often through Kevin, I was introduced to this or that actor, special effects producer, author. (Mostly I just stammered along, nodding and smiling in partial radio silence). Yet from these experiences crystallized a desire to shape the Foundation in very specific ways geared towards nurturing and promoting creative individuals who might not otherwise get a chance to fully express themselves.
I'm also fascinated by the idea of transitions. These are the moments of irreversible commitment when planning moves to execution, when thinking moves to doing. Something irrevocably changes, condenses, in these transitions. When a plane's wing bites the air, it is suddenly and irrevocably flying. When a fire performer lights a prop, the performance has unmistakably started. And when a writer or artist first puts pen to paper (virtual or otherwise), something similarly magic happens. Outwardly, not much has occurred-- a jet barely off the ground, a performance only a few beats into its opening track, a collection of fragmented words or strokes on paper-- but inwardly, nothing will ever be the same. One moves completely and irretrievably from the mode of getting ready to doing. An idea takes shape into reality, with irreversible commitment. You can erase a word, click UNDO, but the shift has already occurred. This fleeting moment is magical to me.
And so as the Foundation steps across the brink of this transition, I'm excited and humbled. The Foundation was an idea I voiced at Kevin's favorite restaurant to a few friends on the evening after his passing. I can't rightly claim it as my idea. I think I channeled it, moved to give voice to an idea that I felt needed to be made real and work that needed to continue. I'm surprised and inspired that so many would be so supportive of the Foundation and its vision. My deepest thanks to all of them (to you!) for this support. I promise that with the Foundation we'll see some amazing things and be part of some amazing stories of creativity and uplift-- Best of all, meet some amazing people. And I suspect we'll be reintroduced to some people we already know along the way, maybe even ourselves. This time in a new context as discover our own creativity and passion together.
--Paul
There are many, many crucial supporters who I'll let introduce themselves in their own time, but here I want to specifically thank Brian for his outstanding advice and mad web skills, and René for being our partner in crime at X-Sanguin with a deeply insightful eye for artist and industry outreach. Meeting, collaborating, and generally being in-cahoots-with such a fine cast of characters has been my greatest joy in launching the Foundation. For me, this labor of love is all about the people and the stories that brought them here.
Creative people have always fascinated me, certainly at least as much as their art. Now sure, the creation, the art, this was what captured my attention first, especially in my youth: That mind-blowing video game, grand sci-fi novel, soaring anime saga, gritty manga and graphic novel. Yet for me what's most compelling is the person behind the art. I devour book jacket back covers, blogs, essays, and panels with a particularly focused level of geekery. Artists, writers, game developers (Especially back when they were called "programmers" and you only needed one to write a game)-- I idolized them when I was young, emulated them when I could, envied them when I "grew up". I wanted to know their origin stories. And sometimes I got a chance to ask them on occasions when, often through Kevin, I was introduced to this or that actor, special effects producer, author. (Mostly I just stammered along, nodding and smiling in partial radio silence). Yet from these experiences crystallized a desire to shape the Foundation in very specific ways geared towards nurturing and promoting creative individuals who might not otherwise get a chance to fully express themselves.
I'm also fascinated by the idea of transitions. These are the moments of irreversible commitment when planning moves to execution, when thinking moves to doing. Something irrevocably changes, condenses, in these transitions. When a plane's wing bites the air, it is suddenly and irrevocably flying. When a fire performer lights a prop, the performance has unmistakably started. And when a writer or artist first puts pen to paper (virtual or otherwise), something similarly magic happens. Outwardly, not much has occurred-- a jet barely off the ground, a performance only a few beats into its opening track, a collection of fragmented words or strokes on paper-- but inwardly, nothing will ever be the same. One moves completely and irretrievably from the mode of getting ready to doing. An idea takes shape into reality, with irreversible commitment. You can erase a word, click UNDO, but the shift has already occurred. This fleeting moment is magical to me.
And so as the Foundation steps across the brink of this transition, I'm excited and humbled. The Foundation was an idea I voiced at Kevin's favorite restaurant to a few friends on the evening after his passing. I can't rightly claim it as my idea. I think I channeled it, moved to give voice to an idea that I felt needed to be made real and work that needed to continue. I'm surprised and inspired that so many would be so supportive of the Foundation and its vision. My deepest thanks to all of them (to you!) for this support. I promise that with the Foundation we'll see some amazing things and be part of some amazing stories of creativity and uplift-- Best of all, meet some amazing people. And I suspect we'll be reintroduced to some people we already know along the way, maybe even ourselves. This time in a new context as discover our own creativity and passion together.
--Paul
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