It’s two days before our final submission, and things didn’t go as I hoped.
I’d been waiting for a final meeting with Phyu to go over the animation and confirm sound details before I did the last mix. This discussion was important—sound mixing depends heavily on finalized visuals, and I wanted to make sure everything was in sync. But just before the meeting, she told me she had food poisoning and suggested we do the check-in over the phone instead.
We’ve tried online/phone meetings before, and they don’t work for this kind of sound-based project—you simply can’t hear properly through small speakers and compression. So I politely declined and suggested we both submit the current versions separately, since her sound isn’t being graded and my sound is assessed independently of her animation. She agreed… kind of.
What surprised me was that she asked me to redo the sound again in 2–3 weeks, before her screening. And even though I felt uncomfortable with that request—especially so close to the actual deadline—I still agreed, partly out of responsibility and partly because it felt like I should. But in truth, I don’t think I should have. Or at least, I should have been clearer about my limits.
Throughout our collaboration, Phyu has politely—but persistently—pushed for repeated revisions, sometimes even when her animation wasn’t finalized. I had already finished the first sound draft, yet she asked for minor, often unnecessary tweaks, especially to prepare for a presentation where sound wasn’t even graded. I understand wanting to impress during a pitch, but being asked to repeatedly rework things that depend on visuals she hasn’t finished felt… unfair. It’s not about workload—it’s about being asked to spend time on things that aren’t ready, or won’t be used.
Her tone is always polite, but the pressure is still there. And while I know she’s not trying to make me uncomfortable, the impact is real: it made me question whether my time, boundaries, and creative process were being respected.
This whole experience reminded me of what our tutor Hannah said: “Collaboration is not commission.”
That line has been echoing in my head. At times during this project, it has felt less like a collaboration between equals and more like fulfilling someone else’s vision under their timeline. And when that happens—even with the best intentions—it becomes hard to feel creatively invested.
Still, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve learned the importance of clear communication. I’ve learned to recognise when politeness masks pressure. And most importantly, I’ve learned that setting boundaries isn’t unprofessional—it’s part of being a professional.
As I wrap up this submission, I feel a mix of relief, frustration, and pride. I may revisit the sound again for her screening, but if I do, it will be on my own terms, not just out of obligation.