In this instalment of the series, head of social and integrated communication at Havas shares her experience of becoming a single mother in a city away from her family, and how building a daily rhythm with her son has helped her grow in her life and career.
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this instalment of Motherland in Adland – the series founded by NERD’s Milana Karaica in partnership with LBB – we hear from Davitha Tiller, head of social and integrated communication at Havas.
Davitha shares her experience of becoming a single mother while leading in one of the industry’s most demanding sectors – with no family nearby, no fallback, and a young son relying on her. What followed was a journey of emotional extremes: fear, liberation, exhaustion, growth. And, ultimately, pride.
From the challenges of raising a child alone in New York City to the structural support of working under strong female leadership, Davitha’s story is one of extraordinary resilience – and a powerful reminder that motherhood, in all its forms, can shape more empathetic, grounded leaders.
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IT WASN’T THE PLAN, BUT IT’S MY PATH.
I will never forget my first official day as a single working mom.
I was standing in the kitchen of the apartment my 11-month-old son and I had just moved into following my difficult separation from his father. After a long day of meetings, pitching and thinking; I had put him to bed, and now it was time to make myself dinner. But before I could so much as reach for a pan, a wave of emotion hit me – an overwhelming cocktail of debilitating fear and exhilarating relief.
There was the fear of the road ahead. The relentless logistics. The loneliness. The unknown. And at the same time, there was this liberating sense of reclaiming control – of knowing that, for better or worse, I was back in the driver’s seat of my own life.
How am I going to do all of this?
The sleepless nights. The childcare arrangements. The all-day meetings. The after-work mom mode. The after-mom-mode work mode. The co-parenting conflicts. The tiredness. The confronting reality of knowing that you’re staring at your greatest support system in the mirror.
And yet – alongside all that – came the longing to be the best mom I could possibly be. To stay healthy, strong and active. To nurture friendships. To make new mom friends. To help my son make his first friends. To sign him up for extracurriculars. To travel the world for work and for fun. To eventually, maybe, date again.
Being an expat single mom in a place like New York City, with no family nearby and a sole custody parenting arrangement, while working a demanding leadership job in our fast-paced industry, is its own level of hard. And being a stubborn Taurean who doesn’t easily accept help certainly didn’t… well, help.
The non-stop nature of it all was terrifying. And, honestly, some days it still is. But even in the darkest moments, I held onto one belief: that eventually, it would get easier. And it did.
To my own surprise, I wouldn’t change a thing about my journey.
Because what I’ve learned is this: just like writing, or riding a bike, once you get the hang of single working mom life, it becomes second nature. And in doing so, it reveals a level of vulnerability and resilience you might never have known you had.
I’ve always been a creature of habit, someone who believes that structure is the antidote to chaos. So I approached life with my son like a military mission – building a daily rhythm so reliable, both he and I could follow it with our eyes closed. That structure became my lifeline. It still carries us through.
And through it all – just as research so often shows about children raised by single mothers – my son has become the most loving, flexible, perceptive, and emotionally intelligent little man. He lights up my life every single day, and together, we make a pretty great team.
And speaking of teams; I am immensely grateful to work for an agency with a strong female leader at the global helm, where offering people the flexibility and support to navigate their personal circumstances isn’t an exception – but the cultural norm.
Over the years, I’ve come to wear my “single mom” title not as a burden, but as a badge of honour.
It wasn’t the plan, but it is my path. It has made me who I am. And today, I can finally say it: I’m proud of her.
Life as an artist can oftentimes be a life of moving to where the work is or travelling to new places to be inspired, living a nomad existence, always seeking out the next project. On the 4th and 5th of October World Day of Migrants and Refugees was celebrated and we wanted to take this opportunity to speak with NERD Productions talent Lucas Borras and Carlota Santamaria originally from Spain have lived all over the globe swapping the towering skyscrapers of NYC and now finds himself in tinsel town living amongst the stars. The pair will be moving forward as a collaborative force known as Chosen Family and we cannot wait to share more with you in the near future.
Moving can be a hard and difficult process like leaving a piece of yourself behind, places can root us down, remind us of people and memories. Another consideration is uprooting family, having to look for new schools and fit in with new cultures and customs. We caught up with both of them to discuss how migrating impacted his work and whether it inspired or changed his approach to making art.
How did you both originally meet?
Like all great stories, in prior days of online dating, we met dancing in Barcelona and from that point onwards we just clicked together.
What was your first creative collaboration?
“The first time we collaborated was on a TV show called Anecdotari—a project that marked the beginning of our creative partnership. It went on to win both the Gold LAUS Award and the European Design Award. I led as Director and Animation Director, while Carlota brought her vision as Design Director and Illustrator. It was a project rooted in shared values, distinct perspectives, and a deep creative trust.” – Lucas
Was home sickness something that ever impacted you when you first moved away from home?
“We’ve always had each other’s back which always helps, naturally most of our family still live over in Spain but what’s helped since moving to LA is there’s a strong spanish speaking community in our area. We’ve made friendships through work collaborations, but as well through exploring the “californian” culture and taking our children to school and it’s important that we’ve built connections outside of the film and advertising space as well.” – Carlota
How does living on the West Coast differ from living on the East Coast?
“New York moves at a very different pace, you’re at what feels like the center of the universe, the hustle and bustle of a sprawling metropolis. When we moved back in 2009 it was very easy to build up connections especially in the creative space. You were always within walking distance of agencies and creative studios. LA on the other hand is more spread out and vast, unless you drive a car it can be harder to get from A to B. So you learn to find your people where you’re based which in a lot of ways helps with the community feel.“
Our surroundings often provide us with inspiration, when was the last time the LA sunshine helped form an idea?
“It’s so true, our surroundings provide us with so much inspiration, moving to LA in many ways felt like going home to Spain, the sunshine beaches and the open air provided us with a sense of clarity that was almost impossible to achieve living in New York City. We have more time to relax and collaboration feels less strained. I think in LA we have mastered work and life balance better than what was possible living in New York.“
Take a look at some of the prime examples of Chosen Family’s colourful work.
Click here to see to see colourful and inspiring Erno Laszlo film.
Could you tell us a bit more about your creative relationship and how that’s evolved over the years into Chosen Family?
“After 18 years of living—and creating—together, we’ve developed a rhythm that allows us to balance the personal and professional with honesty and flow. Our different points of view consistently push the work to new places, and we’ve found that what might feel like friction at first often becomes fuel for something better. Over the years, our dynamic has matured into one of synchronicity and clarity, especially when navigating complexity or high-stakes moments.
We’re both deeply curious and wired for what’s next. We thrive on experimentation, openness, and momentum. If we had to name our shared ethos, it would be this: Live without fear, and create like you mean it. That mindset permeates everything we do—how we collaborate, how we take risks, and how we bring ideas to life.” – Lucas & Carlota
How do you deal with prejudice in and out of the workplace?
With empathy.
What’s the most valuable piece of advice you would give to someone who is also looking to migrate for work opportunities?
If possible, go spend some time in the place you’re considering. Live it. Walk its streets. Connect with the studios, agencies, and people you admire. Get a real feel for the energy. See if it matches what you imagined—if it truly feels like somewhere you want to be.
Senior producer at Area 23 New York Jennifer Mejia-Ponce talks about being a queer Filipina mother in the US, the challenges of navigating a global pandemic and being a new parent, and more
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this edition of Motherland in Adland, we hear from Jennifer Mejia-Ponce – a seasoned senior producer whose nearly 30-year career spans broadcast, live events, and experiential campaigns for brands like Netflix, Canon, and Nike. As a queer Filipina mother, Jennifer brings a powerful, intersectional voice to the conversation – one shaped by decades of hustle, reinvention, and resilience.
From TV studios to Bayfront builds and virtual broadcast meetings with a baby on her lap, Jennifer reflects on the evolution of her identity as both a producer and a parent. She speaks candidly about the tension between ambition and presence, and the added layers of navigating parenthood as a non-biological mum in today’s political landscape.
Jennifer’s story speaks of adaptation, strength, and reframed success in both the projects she’s delivered and in the values she’s passing on to the next generation. Read on to hear her story.
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Wouldn’t it be grand if I could just put some prompts into ChatGPT and boom, here is my story. But of course that wouldn’t be authentic, would it? How do I talk about myself and my experiences and show everyone reading the private side of myself.
Opening up brings up feelings of not being enough, of ‘Am I worthy to read about’, self doubt and roadblocks of not feeling like I fit anywhere. I didn’t see many Asian Pacific Islanders/queer folk in the industry when I started my career. I missed the cultural connection that would make me feel like there were others like me. The industry is vast and can sometimes feed loneliness, especially after moving into remote work.
I’ve been a producer for almost three decades. Graduating from film school in the late 90’s, I worked for eight years in television with studios such as ABC and MTV. I was sadly making more than my single mom who then had served 20 years in the New York City hospital system.
Speaking of, I come from a culture where being in the medical field is almost a given – I could have been a nurse, like many of my fellow Filipinos, but I went into a job that to this day, my mom still doesn’t quite understand. It wasn’t typical. But when they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my response was always manifold – an accountant, carpenter, photographer. So in a way, it makes sense I’m a producer today – we’re seen as the multitaskers, budget-sorcerers, and fire chiefs of the industry. The planner and mother of the group. Long story short, when I graduated, I had dreams of working in film. With stars in my eyes, I imagined I’d be the next Discovery Channel Jacques Cousteau. But ‘The Deep Blue’ documentary made me rethink the idea. I ended up in television, but felt like I was young, naive and too nice for the environment.
I fell into experiential/live production and it was a 16-year-long ride of freelancing. Starting a staffing agency, creating Christmas at Macy’s for seven years, building production kits, training manuals and large installations in the middle of Miami Bayfront or FYSEE event spaces for Netflix in LA. I was also a bartender, security at a nightclub, tour manager, stage manager. I must have done 1000 interviews. Producing and being a workaholic was my life.
Time grew, experience grew and I realised I could take my experience and grow with it. I was building structures that were said to be impossible with my own hands and loving the adventure. I showed my wife that her tech knowledge was a great fit for production, and we worked together for years so we could produce our wedding and eventually raise enough money to start a family. We had a goal – more than just climbing some invisible work ladder. We were aiming for it all.
The adventure hit full stop when covid happened, coincidentally also when our baby was about to be born. The work I was building was gone. Travelling the country changed to travelling to the living room. The money we set aside was collapsing. Hustling and working three jobs at a time all came to a halt. I had just started feeling comfortable in my suit and tie I wore to events, but events were no longer.
When the world came out of lockdown with masks and virtual events. I had to re-start; contemplating about travelling 80% of the year for production jobs or not seeing the child we planned to have.
I call myself blessed after eight months of struggling with fear of how to care for our growing family. I said yes to a full time job being a virtual and senior producer in broadcast/advertising. One of the best work perks was that I was able to hold my baby during conference calls. I felt like a fish out of water, but being able to smell my baby was what calmed me. Broadcast was familiar but far from what I recalled – I reminded myself of the hustle to learn every facet of experiential with no guide book; this new role was no exception.
At 48, our daughter was born and I buckled down at my new job. Life was fulfilling its destiny after marrying my wife five years earlier when marriage became legal in the US.
Now it’s 2025. Feeling older than my peers, where in most businesses you would be looked at to exit or move up positions. I am also now navigating a not-so-baby four-year-old with emotions that I need to understand, through experiences I myself wasn’t allowed to feel as a child. I am the gentle parent who is trying to keep the gentleness, even though I was plopped in front of a TV growing up and constantly told to keep quiet.
Nothing can prepare you for having a kid and a full-time job at the same time – not even working months on a production and 72 hours straight of no sleep. It’s a completely different type of exhaustion. Now, you’re living for a small human who needs you literally at every step of life – priorities shift.
Now, I am a senior producer who slowed down her career to be home with the toddler, and a mama who’s had to navigate feelings of not being ‘the biological mom’. The mom who had to get court papers – to be my child’s legal mom if something was to happen. You’d think loving it would be enough, but our political climate is not supportive of queer lives.
Each day weighs differently in my head. Family versus work? Am I getting too old for this? Which comes first, the toddler who asks me to put my phone down, or the meeting? Do I say to my child ‘Wait five minutes’, so I can send my pressing emails about timelines, budgets and client must-haves? Do I feel all the guilt of missed playdates? Do I start missing school events to not be up ‘till midnight working through what I didn’t do during the day?
I sometimes miss the set builds and events where I was king with my walkie talkie and creating experiences that made people smile. But now I get to be home when my child gets out of school or needs a hug. I finally fit in with so many other moms, who, too, juggle work and parenthood. I found my community in some way, even if it’s through a screen! I’ve found a space where I can produce award-winning work – one that matters in the real world.
I’ve always said, producing is being asked to make unicorns fly. One, unicorns don’t fly. Two, unicorns aren’t real. But being both a producer and mother in today’s world is even harder – we shift, we reset and find the ways to survive and to learn from the struggles. We fight to be stronger, to be better and to secure balance like we do on any production set. I’m looking forward to the future where my kid learns to see the world, hopefully knowing her mom could do pretty much anything with a good mindset.
I can’t say I’m at all perfect, or that I don’t struggle daily with my direction. But, the best part of this industry is that it’s an open door. Like an AI prompt, I just need to figure out the key words to get me where I’m supposed to be.
In this next instalment of ‘Motherland in Adland’, managing director of Turner Duckworth London tells LBB about the lessons she learned about the industry through motherhood, and why no parent should have to “miss a sports day or a school play” because of work.
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this installment of Motherland in Adland, the series started by NERD’s founder Milana Karaica in celebration of women’s month, we hear from Georgina Leigh-Pemberton, managing director of Turner Duckworth London.
From her own experience, Georgina tells an all-too-well story of broken promises and settling for a lower-than-deserved role due to her pregnancy. Overworking herself due to the invisible pressure of the industry, and riddled with parental guilt, Georgina inevitably had to address the burnout and left her workplace with nowhere else to go to.
She calls it a “painful but valuable lesson” — one she believes no mothers in the industry should have to learn due to the downfalls of their employers. Read on to find out more about Georgina’s story.
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My first personal experience of this came when a previous employer took me out to dinner after strongly implying that I was in line for a senior role — until, after declining a martini and, when pressed, confiding in the CFO that I was pregnant, the opportunity quietly disappeared.
When I returned to work in a different role after my first child was six months old, I was determined to prove that being a great MD and a wonderful mother was possible. I put myself under immense pressure to succeed — and in doing so, I set myself up for failure.
Every day, I left home before my daughter woke up and returned just in time to put her to bed. My company never explicitly pressured me to stay late, but I was acutely aware of the unspoken expectations. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and guilty, I left after six months, without another job to go to. It was a painful but valuable lesson, one I carry with me to this day: no one should choose between being present for their family and excelling in their career.
I’m incredibly fortunate to now work for a company that fosters a culture of genuine support for working parents. It’s not just about returning to work — it’s about ensuring ongoing flexibility and understanding throughout our careers.
No one should have to miss a sports day or a school play because of a presentation — these moments matter.
I know many in this industry are not as lucky. Parenthood is too often viewed as an inconvenient disruption rather than a natural part of life. This mindset has to change. Flexible working is part of the solution, but we need to go further and offer more adaptable hours, greater autonomy over office days, and a culture that values productivity over presenteeism.
While I’m encouraged to see attitudes shifting away from the expectation that working late into the night is just ‘part of the job,’ the change isn’t happening fast enough. And it’s not just parents who deserve better balance — no one’s time should be treated as less valuable simply because they don’t have children.
Everyone has responsibilities, relationships, and lives outside of work that deserve respect. Until we address the culture of systemic overwork across the board, creating a genuinely supportive environment for working parents will always be an uphill battle.
NERD Productions is proud to announce the signing of visionary filmmaker Sakari Lerkkanen. A champion of crafting stories that are full to the brim with imagination and style that evokes emotion. Over the years Sakari has built up an extremely impressive body of work ranging from commercials, films and music videos. Collaborating with the likes of Campari, Elizabeth Arden, Sony, Bacardi, Flashscore, Petr Cech, and Cecilia Brækhus.
Sakari’s flagship TVC for Elizabeth Arden is a prime example of what he can bring to the table blending breathtaking visuals with kinetic camera work, which comes together to not only capture the brand but tells a compelling visual story.
“NERD Productions is all about giving a platform for passionate and creative people to tell stories and to allow them to collaborate with like-minded individuals. From our very first meeting I knew Sakari was someone who I wanted to work with and introduce to the other talent. He shared the same principles and desire to tell memorable stories as the rest of the NERD family and to top it all off he’s a genuinely lovely person who is motivated by collaboration. We cannot wait to share more of Sakari’s cinematic universe with you all in the near future”. – Milana Karaica, Founder & Producer of NERD Productions. Sakari’s love of cinema shines through in all of his projects, this is on full display for the Campari ‘Ode to Cinema’ campaign which feels like a love-letter to 50s Noir, stylish 60s spy thrillers and hard boiled 90s crime dramas. The project is a celebration of Campari’s relationship to the silver screen appearing in multiple icon films over the years such as Casino Royale and La Grande Bellezza.
In addition to his commercial success, many of Lerkkanen’s award-winning films are self-penned or co-created with talented writers, reinforcing his passion for storytelling. His distinctive vision and dedication to his craft make him a highly sought-after director for both narrative projects and high-end advertising campaigns.
“I’m always seeking new ways to evolve and connect with great collaborators. With Milana and her team, there was an instant click. We’re both drawn to global stories told through a culturally distinct lens and share a commitment to authenticity and storytelling. Delighted to be joining forces.” – Sakari Lerkkanen
In this week’s installment of the series, Leo Burnett managing partner Charlotte Coughlan shares her journey from a disappointing maternity leave, to helping champion initiatives such as Parentland.
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this installment of Motherland in Adland, the series started by NERD’s founder Milana Karaica in celebration of women’s month, we hear from Charlotte Coughlan, managing partner at Leo Burnett. As a mother of two, Charlotte has experienced the lack of representation and support for working mums in advertising firsthand.
Her own maternity leave left her feeling disconnected and underestimated which fueled her commitment to fostering a culture where parents can thrive without compromise. Under the leadership of CEO Carly Avener, Charlotte champions initiatives like Parentland, ensuring working parents at Leo Burnett feel seen, supported, and empowered to succeed both at home and in their careers.
Charlotte shares her perspective on why representation matters, how flexibility should be a given – not a privilege – and why true equity in the industry means encouraging both parents to take leave.
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I’m a working mother of two in the zany, exhausting, but rewarding world of advertising. Unfortunately, growing up in this industry, I had few role models who were mothers to look up to. My personal experience with maternity leave was disappointing – little communication, little support, and an assumption on my behalf that motherhood meant I wasn’t ambitious anymore. I therefore know firsthand how important it is to provide dialogue throughout the entire motherhood journey, from pregnancy through to returning to work and crucially, for maintaining a career. Just because we’re mothers, doesn’t mean we’re not ambitious anymore.
What’s key to creating a better environment for working mums is representation. We’re fortunate at Leo Burnett to have Carly Avener as our CEO. She sets the tone for our culture and agenda, making sure working parents feel included and can thrive both professionally and at home. Her leadership as a single mum is an example of how top-down support can truly impact a company’s approach to work-life balance.
When a culture is right, all working parents feel empowered to work flexibly. It’s not about being in the office five days a week; it’s about being trusted to excel in what we do, all within a structure that allows us to dart home if we get the dreaded call from nursery or need to volunteer at the school disco.
This freedom of flexibility is vital to ensuring that we’re not forced to choose between being good parents and being good professionals.
Feeling isolated and ‘the only one’ at an agency is crippling. At Leo Burnett, we’ve set up Parentland, a strong support system and network aimed at bringing parents to kids of all ages plus carers together and providing invaluable advice for navigating the realities we face. This includes expert guidance, financial advice, and even a Teams chat for solidarity and humour on the tough days. We lean on each other to better manage juggling it all. So, it’s not just our partners at home getting the brunt of our working-parent-frazzle! Personally I’m lucky with how much my partner has supported me through the journey.
One thing the industry needs to improve on, and we simply don’t see enough of, is encouraging both parents to take leave. It’s time for us to recognise that true equity can’t be achieved without shared responsibility.
If partners take leave, it helps reduce the pressure on mums and can drive long-term change, even as far as reducing the gender pay gap.
We’re so lucky to be a part of this amazing industry, one where we should ALL be able to thrive – but there’s still strides to be made. With dialogue, the right support systems, freedom of flexibility, and representation at the top, mothers in particular can soar without having to compromise.
LBB’s Zoe Antonov and NERD’s founder Milana Karaica kick off a new series focused entirely on celebrating mothers in the advertising and production industries, and their personal stories of triumph and pain against the odds.
“Motherhood isn’t a limitation. It’s a foundation, a training ground, and a path to better and more empathetic leadership.”
This is what founder and creative executive producer at NERD Productions, Milana Karaica, told us when we first started shaping the idea for this series.
Countless industry panels and talks dare to lift the veil of unspoken shame and controversy when it comes to becoming a mother in the advertising and production industries – or, really, in most industries. Yet, the stigma persists, and action is minimal. So, when Milana reached out to LBB with her idea, we knew it was time to carve out space for this discussion..
Pressure on women comes from all sides – wanting to be a mother is wrong, because you are not career-oriented enough; not wanting to be a mother is wrong too, because you aren’t fulfilling your ‘nature-given purpose’; wanting both, or neither, is somehow wrong too. It’s a tale as old as time.
In advertising and production, motherhood is treated as a hurdle, not an asset – choosing between a thriving career and a fulfilling family life is something countless women face, in silence. And even after the choice is made, the repercussions are life-long, and often tied with varying degrees of guilt and shame.
This is why, for International Women’s Month, and beyond, LBB’s Zoe Antonov and NERD’s Milana are launching ‘Motherland in Adland’. Through Milana’s story – and those of other incredible mothers – we’ll shine a light on the realities of balancing leadership with parenthood.
From challenges to triumphs, this series is about breaking a narrative – motherhood is not a ‘career break’. It builds stronger, more empathetic leaders – and it’s time for the industry to stand behind them.
To kick off the series, here is Milana’s story.
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I started in this industry very young – at the age of 17.
Through the early years of my career, it didn’t matter to me that I didn’t see women and people like myself around me, as actually, I never really had before either.
Taking inspiration from wherever I could, I excelled in my roles and made my way to executive producer. There were bumps in the road of that journey that were not easy to overcome but when failure is not something you allow yourself to accept, you keep pushing harder with each setback.
It wasn’t until I was in my early thirties – by which point I was running NERD Productions, a creative production company bringing diverse talent to our industry – that I started to feel extremely lonely as a female in a leadership role. NERD was my first baby, my family, and my passion, but I wanted a family at home too. Having always been a nurturer, the one that sees the potential in others and helps them realise that too, I felt that I had what it takes to be a great mother.
However, I had never really come across many women that were in senior positions and had children. It dawned on me that I didn’t know a single one that was running their own production company or agency. That scared me.
Our industry is so competitive and male dominated, that you can’t afford to ever be half a step behind. Aside from running successful productions, so much of it all is run on networking. The lunches, dinners and endless drinking, going out and entertaining. As long as you can keep up with that, you are ok. But how do you do all of that when you have your babies that need your time, love and affection. What do you do when you have an important meeting booked in for months and months and then your baby gets sick on that very day and simply wants to fall asleep in the comfort of mummy’s warm hugs? Do you cancel the meeting that could potentially change a young director’s career path, or tend to your cherished little treasure that can’t understand why you can’t simply just be there?
Women that decided to have kids were and still are often referred to as ‘taking a break to have a baby’. But we know what happens to women in our industry that took that break.
They never came back or were slowly pushed out due to lack of flexibility in their roles. Over 55% of women who had taken parental leave in the last five years believe that choosing to do so damaged their careers. Where do we go from that? This is why we are starting this series. To highlight all those incredible women who are somehow doing it all.
From Guilt to Pride
I did what I do best – kept calm and carried on.
But this is where things get unbearably hard. Everything practical – juggling appointments, sickness, no sleep or time to eat – I could deal with, but there was one thing that I didn’t account for. The guilt. The kind of guilt you can’t imagine. The volume of it is so high, that sometimes you feel like you could drown in it with every breath.
I worked until my contractions were five minutes apart. And handed over my notes to one of our senior producers, ahead of rushing to the hospital to deliver my first baby.
After one long weekend, I was back to work. With my second baby, due to health complications we had a C section and I was back to work three days after.
In an attempt to be a full-time mother and a full-time CEO, I have breastfed my babies with my camera off on endless Zoom meetings. Feeling guilty that I have to hand them over to their dad as soon as they finish, so I can get back to supporting my team and then feeling guilty some more, that I may have not paid enough attention to every word uttered in that meeting.
In an attempt to support my team’s career goals, I sat on a flight for six hours, while my two-year-old was at home, not responding to medication. Being told that he stood in front of our photo attached to the fridge crying and begging daddy to tell mummy to come home killed me inside. On the other hand, I felt guilty that I had to dash back from a big production and leave my team on their own.
I missed my daughter’s first parents evening as I was running late on set – a moment in life I will never get back, but I helped a struggling director capture that one shot he really wanted that day! A sense of achievement with a dash of guilt in my stomach for not being the mum I wanted to be that day.
My son came home from nursery, running through the door to show me the card he had made me for Valentine’s Day and I had to almost edge him out of my screen and keep a straight face as I muttered that I will see it in just three minutes.
Feeling guilty for not cooking a fresh meal on a busy work day, feeling guilty for not attending a work trip… Guilt became the air I breathe.
Even with the most empowering and supportive partner, endlessly helpful family and friends, there is always something to feel guilty about because you can always do more. After all, you are the woman that wanted it all. You could just choose a career, or family, like everyone else and not struggle.
The flipside? You can carry on like this for so long before you notice your male peers not feeling guilty for taking work trips, for taking on more work, for progressing in their career and for going to a drink after work at the expense of not spending every waking hour with their little kids, or fulfilling their every emotional need.
They are okay to be more than a dad so why don’t we ever take a leaf out of their book?
We think and we are told that women are the issue, as we have this self-imposed guilt for wanting it all. But why is wanting a career and a family seen as wanting it all and why should we not want it? Why are we judged so harshly for choosing to have a career or for staying at home?
This is why now, I refuse to allow guilt to rule my life and my choices.
I worked incredibly hard to reach this point in my career and I enjoy my job endlessly.
Growing NERD from nothing to being here ten years later and representing incredible talent, crafting with people I love and respect, supporting each other in every milestone, including family life has not come easy and with no effort.
On the other hand, my children are my world and the centre of my universe. Nothing can compare to the love we share and the happiness they bring me with every little cuddle and every little smile they unselfishly and genuinely give. This is not having it all – it is making the most of life and the endless opportunity in it.
I refuse to suppress the sense of pride I get out of being able to set this example for my children.
Since becoming a mother, there is no force that I would not be willing to stand up against. So, in a way, it has allowed me to improve all of my skillset – patience, resilience, problem solving and the unwavering ability to show up, no matter what.
This is why mothers are so vital to each team and each company. They will be there first, support your cause, understand, give, champion and work harder! Sure, they need to leave for the school pick up, or take a day when their child is sick, but they will be back online later doing way more than reasonable and enjoying it too!
It was the pandemic too, that gave us the opportunity to go from denying that life outside of work exists, to acknowledging that we all have responsibility for other, little lives.
Had it not been for covid, my career, like many others, would undoubtedly have taken a few steps back after having kids. Now, I have even taken my kids to shoots and work trips. Clients seem to accept that you need to pop home and do family stuff before you come back and take them to dinner and post-shoot drinks.
The tiredness after all of these intertwined activities is undeniable. But after a long day, when you finally lay yourself to bed at night and close your eyes – you did do it all girl!
We are making progress. And I hope that in years to come, my daughter, and yours too, never have to shed a single lonely tear, if they choose to smash it in her career, and to be the kind of mummy that she wants to be too.
Sharon Liu is many things, a talented animation director, music video maker, illustrator and an avid GIF maker. In the latest edition of Getting down and NERDy! We caught up with Sharon to discuss her creative process and her adaptability to shapeshift between different creative mediums.
Everyone loves a good origin story, so let’s start from the beginning. How did you get into animation?
It’s funny that my interest in animation only started on my foundation course at UCA Farnham. I was never really an anime or comics fan when I was a kid. However I’ve always been into painting and during my foundation course I discovered that animation is not just ‘cartoons’, it can be painterly and experimental too. I would say that was the turning point for me.
Over the years Sharon has perfected her animation style and brought her distinctive vision to the world of commercials, working on campaigns for the likes of Boot, The Climate Coalition and RAM Trucks.
The Very Hot Snowman for The Climate Coalition display’s Sharon’s hand-drawn aesthetic in beautiful fashion, giving the piece a storybook quality that pulls on your heartstrings and with the voice talent of a certain Britpop icon the whole thing feels cosy but poignant.
What would you say is the major difference between illustration and animation director?
I guess as an illustrator I can spend more time focusing on the tiniest details, and as an animation director I have to focus on the bigger picture/ overall feel/ narrative. I realised that good animation might not necessarily contain one single frame that would work well as an illustration and a good illustration might not necessarily work as a frame of animation either.
Sharon is also a master of creating mixed media, blending her trademark animation style with live action, which you can see in full swing with her music video ‘Its Like That’ for pop royalty Mariah Carey.
You experiment with many different methods, is there anything you haven’t tried yet that you’d like to explore as an artist?
There are far too many methods I would love to try, I believe anything can be turned into animation under the camera! At the moment I’m trying to figure out a way to animate/control water!
As a fellow avid GIF maker I’d love to know what you like the most about creating GIFs?
GIFs are short and sweet. It’s a documentation of my visual diary and it allows me to play with different materials and explore outside my comfort zone without any pressure.
Do you think GIFs can be used to tell narratives and what do you think it adds to your work?
Same as all other art forms, GIFs can be used to express narratives but a strength of GIFs is their versatility to be used in the digital world, including their ability to show moving images instantly without pressing play! It’s hard to think what GIFs add to my work as GIFs are my work. So instead I would rather say creating GIFs has brought me different kinds of work opportunities, a colourful portfolio and 704 million views on GIPHY.
What kind of creative projects appeal to you the most as a creative?
As I’m getting older and more experienced, working with people that I like is far more appealing to me than the nature of the project. Luckily good people tend to work on good projects too!
Two NERDs Billelis and Luke Preece recently embarked on a demon slaying project for the iconic ‘Doom The Dark Ages’. We recently caught up with the pair to discuss their joint love of video games and how they’ve inspired and influenced their work of the years.
How did the Doom project start?
Luke> Billy approached me earlier in the year and asked if I’d be up for doing another collab on Doom after the success of our previous one. Obviously I said yes. I love making stuff with him.
Were you already a fan of the iconic Doomguy’s demon slaying shenanigans?
Billy> I mean he is a video game icon haha. I remember playing the OG as a kid (without my parents knowing), and had this divine rebellion/inspiration. It is absolute carnage and a release, bashing demons back to hell is a very cathartic experience. So yes you can say I was a huge fan haha.
Luke> Absolutely! I played the original games back in the early ‘90s and have continued to play all of the subsequent titles in the series.
Have you noticed a change in how video games are now marketed and advertised?
Billy> The gaming industry has changed so much,but imo what matters the most is the gamer’s experience and fun. Microtransactions and all that ruin the experience. I game because I want to feel free to explore another realm, to lose myself, to become someone else for those hours. I love my life but also becoming a tanked demon slayer is pretty epic haha.
Luke> Back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s the only way you’d find out about new games was word of mouth or in magazines. That and watching Gamesmaster on TV… Nowadays the industry is so huge that games are marketed like huge movies. That’s a massive step up so I guess you could say it’s changed quite a lot.
Have video games influenced or shaped your work?
Billy> Oh yes I have a whole leg tattooed with video game characters, I am 37 and still game a lot, and you could say it has been a childhood dream of mine. It’s important as artists to nurture our inner child especially as we get older. I have been very fortunate to do Art with Luke for Doom, and Diablo a few years back on my own, and I’ll never get over the feeling my inner child would get by working on these.
Diablo II work by Billelis
Luke> 100%. I play video games quite a bit and have done since I was very young. That has inevitably sunk into my subconscious and definitely comes out in my work.
Luke’s work for Gears 5
What do you enjoy the most about working on video game briefs?
Billy> Seeing all the incredible concept art and BTS that goes into these games. It’s amazing to put my own twist on these IP’s but I always get giddy and incredibly inspired to see what the artists of these studios have created before me. I feel honoured to put my spin on their creativity.
Luke> Getting to put my stamp on IPs I love. Essentially taking inspiration from the visuals and narrative and bring it together in a unique way whilst remaining relatable to the game.
Do you think video games as an artform are still misunderstood?
Billy> In the past, yes, I feel gaming is a key part of our culture and it truly is an artform. Everything from characters, to design, atmosphere, sound, emotion. Nothing comes close to it imo. You can watch a film and remember it, but I find games become unforgettable experiences, for me at least.
Luke> They used to be. And if I’m honest a video game used to be something you’d pick up and play for 30mins. Modern games are like these big blockbusters or yearly events that happen. It’s kind of crazy when you think about how much it has changed?!
If you could live inside any video game world what would it be?
Billy> As messed up as it would be, I’d love to live inside the Elden Ring.
Luke> Gotta be Zelda. I like the idea of hanging out in Hyrule.
Many artists are satisfied with owning one style but not Corinne Ladeinde, she thrives on experimentation, playing around with different styles of animation. Her work spans across directing, design animation, illustration and a lead compositor.
Her short film ERNESTO garnered multiple awards capturing the imagination of both parents and children alike. While working on projects such as The Snowman and the Snowdog and We’re Going on a Bear Hunt! for Channel 4 and bringing her talents to big name clients like Dove, Bach and Liz Earle. Her adaptability to create something visually unique for each project shows with her truly original body of work.
In our latest edition of Getting Down and NERDy we caught up with Corinne to discuss her experiment approach to animation and directing.
How many different methods of animation have you used over the years and what do you enjoy doing the most?
My experience as a director or in compositing, whether working as part of a team or supervising, has introduced me to many different styles and mediums, from digital 2D cutouts mixed with drawn animation, 2D or stop-motion composited with live action, to sand! I’ve enjoyed all for different reasons but I’ve mostly enjoyed working with 2D cutouts with hand-drawn elements as it’s flexible and fun to work with (my) illustrations and bring them to life, it’s where I feel at home.
Could you tell us a bit more about the process of composting in animation?
It really does depend on the project, that’s part of the beauty of it. As a compositor, it’s my job to bring together all of the elements, make sure the layering etc is working correctly, make the elements feel like they belong and then push them even further. For example when working on a project that blends 2D animation with live action I need to pay attention to whether the shadows I’m creating for characters blend in seamlessly with other shadows in the liveaction plates, are they pointing in the right direction, where is the light source, check black and white points accordingly, apply any grading and SFX necessary and making sure the characters feel like they’re in that live action world.
On a recent project I supervised, the brief was to ensure we couldn’t see much competition at all! It was very much about maintaining the storybook charm of the project and ensuring the characters became a part of the beautifully painted backgrounds, as well as adding a bit of sparkly FX where needed. Funnily enough, I find this process really rewarding and sometimes if you can’t see my work, that means I’ve done a good job!
How much experimentation do you have when composting?
Again, it really depends on the project and the director. Some directors know exactly what they want and there isn’t much wiggle room or need for it. But many times I’ve been given a shot and told… “I’m not sure what we want here… What do you think…? Have a play!” It’s only through experimenting, having a go, and getting it wrong a few times that you’re able to build on something and then you can work with the director and move things forward.
Most of the time, it’s a fun creative process, as with all of the other roles on a production, it’s your job to facilitate the director’s vision as well as offering support and guidance where your expertise may lie. I’ve always felt the best directors recognise this and allow their team to do their jobs with guidance. I like to take this approach when I’m at the helm. Sometimes you know exactly what you want and you can drive it home, but other times it’s good to be a little more open and allow something to develop in a way you might not have expected.
Maybe you could tell us a bit more about the surrealism approach a lot of your work adopts?
My grad film ERNESTO is about a boy who’s teeth spontaneously become musical. The original script was quite similar to a United artist’s cartoon called Gerald McBoing Boing. I loved the script, but I wanted to make Ernesto’s affliction something more physical that he didn’t have any control over nor could obviously be seen. While I was at the NFTS I kept a sketch book on my bedside table so I could jot down any dreams that could be of interest. One dream involved a chorus of opera singers wearing tuxes who just happened to be teeth. It was a bit bizarre but it felt fun and I liked how there was potential for them to be their own little characters. It’s like cute body horror… maybe that’s my thing! When I think back, one of the films I loved was How to Get Ahead in Advertising.
A story about a man experiencing a moral existential crisis who grows a talking boil on his neck. I think what draws me to this theme is that these “afflictions” are part of the character. It’s either something that has to be dealt with or accepted. There’s no escape! Turning these everyday feelings into physical manifestations is a fun and quite literal way to explore these experiences. It’s a way of bringing them to the forefront and being forced to confront them head-on. One of the things I love about film (particularly animation) is the suspension of belief and that, quite literally, anything can happen. I find comedy and sometimes (cute) body horror to be a fun vehicle to explore these themes. It might all seem quite surreal but there are very real emotions behind it.
What other forms of animation would you like to experiment with in the future?
I’ve been experimenting with 3d in my downtime (when I have it!) I’d love to experiment with it more. But, with the dawn of AI that is capable of creating the kinds of footage and imagery we’re seeing, my concern is that traditional modelling could become redundant. I’m aware that even though I feel there will always be a place for content with that human touch, there will be pressures and potentially opportunities to get to grips with what AI will no doubt bring. I’m interested in approaching AI as yet another tool if possible. Whether that’s using it to speed up current pipelines and work processes or for image generation that can be experimented with, edited and worked into further by human hands.
