So you're standing there in the pouring rain. You're miserable and look like a drowned rat. The sky opened up its fat mouth a few hours ago and doesn't look like it is ever going to close it - the rain is neverending.
You are standing at a bus shelter with no top, just a pole sticking out of the ground that used to have a bus stop sign on it, and a plastic cage with bars and no roof which provides exactly little enough shelter from the wind that you wish it wasn't there at all. You suspect the roof is in the thickets behind you, sheltering a number of hideous creatures just waiting for a chance to reach out and drag you into the mud, kicking and screaming.
Normally, you'd never wish to subject yourself to public transport, but perceptions and standards can be altered by circumstance. Checking your watch, you realise that it has been an hour and a half. You might have walked to your destination in this time - or at least drowned yourself in a puddle to achieve sweet release.
You weigh your options. You could start walking now and possibly get trenchfoot or fall into hole - freefalling to the centre of the earth. Or, you could stay at the bus 'shelter' and feel life mocking you for waiting around for something that's never going to come.
Suddenly, as if carried by numerous beautiful angels, the bus lights glitter into your watery eyed view. Somehow it seems longer than it should, as if the bus were actually a train. No... Not a train. A caravan. A bloody caravan of buses.
You curse out loud and raise your soggy arm out over the road, signalling the driver to stop for you. All three buses pull up and you get to take your pick of the lot.
Thankfully, jobs can be part time, so I get to pick two.
Friday, June 20, 2008 - Rough Textures and Clean Details
I've been wanting to create more graphics using clean lines, and I've always been interested in textured backgrounds (although, to date, I haven't used them very often in digital work). So I think I might create a series of digital artworks with textured backgrounds and clean graphics.
It is fairly popular at the moment to have vectorized details, but for now I'd feel more comfortable making paths with a pen tool in Photoshop. I might even do a simple tutorial later today and post it here in my blog.
:edit: I've decided to do two short tutorials. The first will cover creating a background image and the second will be the clean designs and how to integrate them into the background image.
A lot of
people collect things. I collect bottle caps and make fridge magnets out of
them; Clipper lighters; cigar boxes which act as memory boxes for other
keepsakes and cigar bands/labels in a little journal with information on each
cigar. My favorite cigars are Acid Krush Classics - Blue Connecticut, by the
way. But, meh... Drew Estate have a tendency to spoon out of control if you
don't watch the ember.
Anyways,
Clippers! It must be something about the way they are shaped and how colorful
and handy they are. I enjoy things that are practical as well as aesthetically
pleasing. I stopped collecting them when my partner, Sean, gave me his Zippo -
he'd carried it everywhere with him for years and wanted me to have something
of his while I was in England without him. I almost feel bad
about cutting back (and nearly entirely refraining from) smoking. It's too bad they don't seem to sell Clippers over here. I'd still like to continue collecting them, even if I don't get to use them.
"Honestly. My head's everywhere but where it should be in the morning. My dreams don't fade, they melt, and mid-sentence I'll slip into something I said in my dream and I'll sound like a complete nutjob." - Mike
Honestly dude, all I can say is I know how you feel.
I don't know why, but sometimes, when I don't like something I'll make this horrible screaching sound. I go all bug eyed for a split second as this high pitched squawk of ill fate comes burning out of my throat.
Even stranger is the fact that whenever I do this, no matter where I am, I always expect to see miniature Japanese people running out from under things like chairs or whatever, only to disappear beneath other things - as if trying to get to some safer hiding spot.
Sometimes that brings on the fear and I screach again just from the thought of it. What if I one day get stuck in a loop of that? I imagine that is what insanity is like.
The background to my latest digital painting, CosmicDeath.
I have never painted a galaxy in this way before, so this was pretty exciting. Though there wasn't much freedom to really splash out with the brush tool, it did require careful use of number of techniques. I wonder if there is a more simple method for creating digital galaxies? Meh, anyways, I really like this one.
Finding a
good source of dried herbs, spices and dried flowers can be difficult if you
live out of the way. If you have a green thumb, you'll be well aware of what
can easily be grown in your climate and what cannot (thank goodness for
greenhouses). But it is well worth searching such places out as you might
benefit from some simple homemade remedies, including some tasty teas.
I'm a big fan of tea infusions. I am a creature of comfort, at heart - and I'm
fond of things that I can enjoy with more than one of my senses. The best way
to a man's heart, or anyone's heart, for that matter, is through their stomach.
Ingesting the right things can really put you on a path to good spirits, good
health and possibly even extended longevity. I add honey to my teas too because
I have a sweet tooth and honey raises antioxidant levels, which is always nice!
My current favourite tea infusion:
Jasmine and Chamomile - Dried jasmine flowers, chamomile flowers and
green tea leaves. This is really good for aiding sleep. Chamomile is well
known to sooth and helps relax the body as it has anti-inflammatory and antispasmodic
properties. Jasmine smells so sweet and tastes as delicate and lovely as it
smells as long as you don't let it steep for too long, as this can make it
taste slightly bitter. The mixture of jasmine and chamomile could have a
soothing effect on your nerves simply from smell and taste alone. Green tea has
polyphenols which are antioxidants; green tea has been said to help prevent the
development of things like heart disease and cancer. With the antispasmodic
properties of chamomile and the soothing and warming benefits of jasmine
flowers, this tea infusion is really good for settling down at night.
If you want to make the same strength that I use - I tend to use half a
teaspoon of dried jasmine flowers, half a teaspoon of dried chamomile flowers
and a teaspoon of dried green tea leaves to make a strong cup and a half of
tea, then I let them steep together in very hot water. If you have a teapot,
now is the time to use it. Let it steep for about 5 minutes. If you decide not
to use jasmine, let it steep longer. Infusions with a strong amount of jasmine
can leave a slightly bitter aftertaste. Use a strainer to filter the leaves and
blossoms as you pour the tea into your cup. There may be a few tiny flecks of
leaves or flowers, but they are harmless and will most likely settle.
As always, I use honey in my teas. It cleanses the mouth by killing germs as it
has antibacterial properties and it raises antioxidant levels in the blood. And if
you have any problems with a night cough, it can be more helpful than a store bought
cough syrup. Lemon teas with a goodly amount of honey are especially useful for
soothing and helping with coughs accompanying colds.
Well, I'm quite finished banging on about teas and whatnot. For now. <_< Hehe ^_^
Saturday, June 7, 2008 - Handcrafted Item For Sale
I'm selling one of my handcrafted items on eBay. I don't know if whoring the item out in my journal will help sell it - lol, but perhaps the fact that at least 15% (or $5, whichever is greater) of the sale price will be donated directly to Amnesty International (with a small administration fee to MissionFish).
If you are interested in supporting a good cause, but - like me, you are perpetually skint, you could also passively donate by doing any of your Amazon.com shopping through Amnesty's website - the link through the site gives a special code in the url and Amnesty International USA will receive up to 10% of the sale.
A good chunk of my book money has gone to help educate people and protect human rights - plus I still got awesome books to further blind myself with. Schweet. ^_^
Adobe Photoshop CS: Photomanipulation, 2006. Model: S M Bullock.
This was for a face card design project at college a few years ago. This isn't actually the end piece which I submitted on the course, but an interesting image that I created as a centre for the card design. I'm trying to get a portfolio that displays not only the sort of work I'm good at, but what I enjoy doing, so I'll be uploading work that spans over the past few years. I'll also be submitting new work as I go along, so keep your eyes peeled.
I use photoshop for several applications, though I have recently become more involved in digital painting. But photomanipulations can be really exciting too. When I was at college a couple of years ago, I would occasionally just spend a whole day walking around taking photographs of anything and anyone who didn't mind having a camera pointed at them. I'd get back home or to college and upload all my photos and start working out what kind of scenes could be made up from the images I'd captured that day - pick a few and then save the rest elsewhere as source pictures for later projects.
Poogie in the kitchen. ^_^
This can lead to dramatic composit photographs, or even a fantasy layout with realistic details to work from for a painting, using the composit as a reference picture for the painting. It is a good habit to get into, to build a library of images for reference and to work on later. If you need to capture a particular shot when taking a photograph, always make sure to take more shots than you ever intend to use and always take it from several angles, and in different locations and different lights if at all possible. Even if nothing works out the way you had hoped, you may come away with an image that inspires or enlightens you to lighting elements that you may not have picked up on just by looking at the time.
Photographs are freezeframes of your vision that can be inspected at length. Not only that, but sometimes you'll get an anomaly which is breathtaking or sparks further experiments! Some of the best anomalies actually came from working with analogue SLRs (digital SLRs are spectacular, but I kind of feel that they take away a lot of the freedom for experimental mistakes, though the same can be said for digital... meh), if you can get hold of some old box cameras, the medium format and room for error can create some truly unique photographs. My friend, Steve Bullock, has been taking medium format photographs for a few years now with a range of cameras. In my opinion, Box Brownie cameras produce the strangest and most uncontrollable experimental photographs - in case anyone was interested in trying it out. In any case, I've gone off on a tangent...
I have an interest in altering random photographs. Snapshots that I've captured and later look at and figure most people would see and pass by without a second thought. It is interesting to take an image which would probably go unnoticed, and make it stand out.
Nearing the end of one of the digi-paintings I started the other night. Here is a section from the picture. It is about lurrrvvv. *flutters eyelashes*
<>I've removed the image cause it was bugging me.. lol<>
As much as I love Love, I also love not waking up at around 5am every morning for no good reason. I go to bed at a reasonable hour (like.. around midnight) and then I wake up and don't feel tired. Some people would say I'm lucky. But I really enjoy sleeping. Dreaming is something that I have been interested in and excited about for as long as I can remember and I'm missing out on some valueable dreamtime!
Also, I'm freaking starving. Have no idea what to eat. Been working on this digi-painting since I woke up about 5 or 6 hours ago. Didn't realise it was noon until just now 'cause the blackout curtains have been protecting me from the big bad world (especially the big bad sun, grrrr).
I'm sure that is enough information for the time being. Gonna get some food, before my stomach eats me alive.
My favourite author, Laurell K Hamilton, has her next book coming out tomorrow. I have it on preorder. As much as I can imagine she might have nerves right now, I am so anxious to read it. I don't have an addictive personality, but her writing style certainly has me captured. I love opening her books and feeling instantly at home. Comfortable and yet excited. Characters that have been growing over the course of the series are so familiar.
I'm rereading The Harlequin, the most recent in the series, just to get me up to speed again. Only another... 10 hours to go until Blood Noir!
Anyways, just thought I'd share since it is something that actually excites me. I can't winge all the time! Okay, well, I can try. ^_^
Human beings are not born either good or bad, we are born and stay neutral throughout our lives. The concepts of good and evil, right and wrong, love and hate (I could go on) are extreme positives and negatives which correlate to living with each other in such close proximity. Most humans live together in large groups, more often than not we are faced with strangers regularly and so society as a whole adapts its positives and negatives to whatever will help us survive together most efficiently and easily, and helps us maintain and develope a synergistic existence.
Like other animals, we have innate tools as a species that help us survive and thrive. Beavers have a drive and ability to chew wood and build dams; spiders produce silk and string webs; etc. Humans have the ability to communicate and conceptualise, we have emotions and we have the ability to adapt to many types of environment - adapting our beliefs and tolerances for fellow man helps us live in society which ultimately benefit us, for example.
Because we can conceptualise and communicate, we have developed emotions to balance and enrich our communication and reaffirm our relationships with the people that hold the highest impact on our survival, such as family, friends, enemies - anyone we meet day to day. Humans are falable, we make mistakes, we can learn those mistakes and be miseducated by others making mistakes. Those mistakes are formed from an imbalance in the level of value we set a positive or negative. Being a pushover because of a skewed value of a positive rule developed for living in society will allow others to thrive more strongly than you, commanding no respect for your individual existence and putting risk to your survival. When I say survival, I mean the overall of your life. The human lifespan, or what we expect it to be.
...I'm just writing to keep my mind off of a nightmare I just woke up from. When I think of all of this stuff, it helps me distance myself. I had a bad dream about someone I care about. Even though I haven't seen him in months and haven't spoken to him in as long... I still love him and worry about him.
My ex and I seperated early last year but we were still good friends and shared our 2 bedroomed house regardless of our split. Now I've moved to Texas with my new partner. I haven't spoken to my ex in a while and I worry about how he is doing and I guess I feel guilt about something - though I'm not sure exactly what it is. I feel protective of him, even though I know he is capable of looking after himself. I guess when you see the best and worst of someone, you remember their weaknesses as much as their strengths. When you care about someone but don't know how they are and can't protect them even if you want to - the weaknesses nag you. Or at least they do me.
As for the breakdown of humans and our nature of survival. I could probably eventually work out why I feel so strongly for someone (although significant) I may never speak to again - but I don't think distancing myself from my emotions will actually make me feel better, even if it would support adaptation for survival.
He was watching the sky when the stars seemed brighter. That night a lot of people were watching, but only one of them understood. He curled up in his sleeping bag peering from the opening of the tent that he’d set up and continued to stare at the sky long after the brilliance of the stars had faded back to their usual glory. Something was about to happen. Things were about to change.
Carefully, he opened his bag, not looking away from the sky. He dialled a number from memory, never having saved it on the phone, and the automated tones seemed louder than they should have. It was so peaceful out there. The call was answered and his voice was oddly full of dread.
“It is both the power of the symbol and your belief in it, it is both the meaning of the word and the energy of carving it into stone, it is both the sound of it spoken and the breath that carries it from your lungs. Do you understand? Magick is a synergism of energies, of powers, of perceptions – without one, the others are untouchable. Anyone can unlock it, the foundations are everywhere in nature, but you must believe. You must add your own energy. You must feel and breathe and become a part of the power that is already waiting for you to use it, you must dedicate a part of yourself to that marriage of energies. If you cannot do this, if you cannot furnish and harness this gift of magick, you will be as numb as those who have never heard these words, never seen them, but ultimately worse for knowing. Knowledge can be a curse if the means to exercise its benefits are out of reach. Are you sure that this is what you want? I have seen men grow mad with the taste of dreams never to be realised, have you understood my warning?”
There was a click on the other end and he sighed as he closed his phone. Struggling to get comfortable in his sleeping bag, he knew this would be the last night of good rest he'd be getting in a long time. Yes. Things were about to change.
He wished he'd brought a second pillow to sleep on, the ground was unforgiving and lumpy.
Friday, May 23, 2008 - Graphic Design ~vs~ Web Design
You've probably all seen it, and not many of you have realised it unless it directly affects you or someone close to you. There is a struggle going on in job listing.
If you are a graphic designer, you have a whole shed load of extra stress than the next person in line. You know why? No? It is because people have a misconception of what graphic designers do. You'd think it would be the easiest thing to get a job in what with all the products and packaging that needs dreaming up and producing. But employers want two for the price of one. Two words, to be precise.
Web design.
Seems that if you are a graphic designer, you are automatically expected to know the ins and outs of a dogs arse when it comes to web developement. I have seen only two prospective jobs that don't ask for extensive experience in web design. And that isn't because graphic designers are supposed to know how to do that, or ever train to do that - it is because companies don't want to have to pay two different people when they could have one tech graduate tearing his hair out and doing two jobs at once - for one pay cheque.
Anyways... Rant over. I just needed to vent.
A lot of digitally inclined illustrators are capable of doing graphic design because software programs overlap. Guess I just got angry because I've been looking for jobs and almost every graphic design job that I've seen requires that little extra that I can't give, even if I wanted to.
Yes, I realise life sucks sometimes, and all that jazz. Ta. >_>
Monday, May 19, 2008 - The Brink of Something Amazing
This is my third attempt at writing something. Usually I feel that typing something out and then deleting it is like cheating. If you were talking to someone out loud you couldn't just undo what you've said - so why should you edit your thoughts elsewhere? Still, I couldn't leave an entry full of half thoughts and questions that no one would want (let alone be able) to answer for me.
So here is where it starts. My entry. The real entry. Forget all that stuff above. I feel driven to writing something. When you were younger, did you ever try to see things that weren't there? When I was about 9 or 10 years old, I used to huddle under my blankets and stare out the window. I grew up in Ohio, and during the summer it was warm enough to need the windows open at night. We had screens on all the windows and doors to keep the bugs out. But I would push the screen panel away from the window and hop into bed and lay there waiting for some spark of light to try and get in. I remember one time in particular, I was waiting and I could see the deep blue of the sky and hear the wind in the tree in the backyard. I waited to see some spark of life from the outside world. I was so sure that there was something alive out there, something alive and curious and awesome. I was waiting to be struck in awe. I loved the outdoors when I was younger, I wanted to stay out and sleep on the roof of the extension. Sometimes I would climb out there and look up at the sky and feel like I was lifting up and drifting into the night...
My dad would get up in the morning and wonder why there were so many flies and moths indoors. I never 'fessed up because I was always hoping that that night, or the next night would be when I'd see it. And if anyone found out that I'd been propping the screen open, or even climbing out of the window, dad would've made sure I kept it shut.
I wasn't the kind of child that believed in fairies, or angels. But I did believe in ghosts because they seemed more plausible. I was big into ghost hunting and trying to contact spirits - to no avail. I'm still interested in stuff like that, but I'm much more cynical with a few years on me. I'm still not sure how to describe what exactly I thought I would see when I would stare at the window at night. I was sure it would be something amazing. Not necessarily something to be feared, not something to spook or befriend me. Nothing so personal. I guess I was just hoping for some sign that there was an essence of life out there that was able to be seen. Evidence of the night having some life of its own. I was so certain that it would come that one night I saw it.
It was the middle of July. It was dark outside, and warm. There was a pleasant breeze which I can almost feel now as I recall it. I had been looking out the window - missing sleep, as usual. There had been lightning bugs galore over the past week. It was fun going outside and dancing in the yard with all those little fireflies lighting up and going out. They were like slow pulsing fairy lights, free of wires and floating around, doing their own thing. So I was watching them through my window and I must have drifted off at some point - but I woke up with a start. I opened my eyes and there was this beautiful glow in front of my face. It was too close though, and I scooted back and nearly fell out of bed. For maybe a matter of seconds, I was certain that I was seeing what I'd been waiting for. This floating light that swept through my room with its rhythmic beating light... In my newly woken state I was sure that I was finally witnessing the night, alive and thrumming with energy. My heart was beating so fast and I think my eyes must have been as wide as they ever have been.
The lightning bug landed on my dresser and then eventually disappeared somewhere into my room where I couldn't find it. I hope it escaped. After those first few seconds of shock and awe, I realised it was a firefly, a lightning bug that had found its way in through the gap in the screen.
I thought about it over and over as I lay there. I finally realised that I had seen exactly what I had hoped for. That bug was a part of the night. It was a part of the outdoors, of nature. Part of the time that we cannot control, of the time we are meant to sit back and sleep, or observe but not interfere.. I had seen what I needed to see, felt what I'd needed to feel and was sure in myself that there was a truth to those feelings that, although no one could back me up and maybe no one would understand, it was good and right.
When I was a child, I tried so desperately to see something that wasn't there; now I wonder why I'd ever stopped looking.
I've been acting like my pet snake. Snakey-Snake has been holed up in his hiding spot for a couple of days now. He only came out to feed and get closer to the heating pad... He's about to shed. When I see his milky eyes, like moonstone, it reminds me of myself and the way I've been acting lately with my artwork. Some dormant stage. Kind of blind. I've not been forcing myself to do anything.
I'm feeling kind of down because I've been trying to find work since I got here. I've moved from England to the US to be with my partner. And as happy and relieved as I am to be here with him, I have to find my feet again and where I fit in with my artwork. How do I use it here? Can I find work doing what I've been training to do at college and university for the past few years?
I guess the issue would have been the same back home. The training wheels are officially in the bin now - so where the hell is my bike?
Anyone with a handbook or manual on life and how to survive it as an artist, please let me know. Maybe I can trade with you for some of my work.
I have bought my very first car. It's second-hand and a bit of a beater. Primer red with glossy red spray patches. You can scratch the paint off with your fingernails. I freaking love it.
When I was younger I remember really wanting a red, beaten up old Toyota pickup truck, a light duty hi-lux or something. The Jimmy is kind of like that, but a bit smaller and with a bed cover attached. I'm very happy. And so is Sean (my partner). He's restoring a C3 Corvette and the engine is very similar, so he can help me when SHTF. ^_^
Anyways, I've set myself the task of learning to drive within a month. I'm more worried about the initial test than the driving test - my memory is rubbish. I think driving an automatic Jimmy is much like carefully pushing around a huge cardboard box. But made of metal. And capable of causing great damage. *sweats*
Tuesday, May 13, 2008 - Hat, an Irishman and a Promise
Last night we met an Irishman outside the pub. He was sitting with his father in-law having a pint of Shiner Black. We all got talking and it was actually amazing. What was an Irishman, from Cork, doing in a little place like this in a little place like Cedar Park? He'd married an American woman, and his father in-law, Sunny, was with him. So anyways - Tholam might have extended my life.
Sunny is in the vending business and he saw my hat and asked what it said - he was going to buy a cap for when he went to Ireland next week and he thought mine was neat. I told him that it was a Pepsi-Cola hat and I got it from Walmart for $5, but I doubted that they had anymore as this was the only one I'd ever seen. When he was looking at it, my intsant instinct was to let him have the cap. He was 57 years old, sitting there with a lovely drunken smile and a good vibe.
Before I could take it off my head he asked if he could buy it from me. He tried to give me twenty dollars, knowing full well it had only cost me five. He said that Pepsi-Cola had been very good to him, and being in the business that he was in, I could see how that might make sense.
Tholam, the Irishman, said that it was no bother and if I didn't want to then it was fine. And when I said that I didn't want any money for it Sunny tried even harder. He waited until I wasn't looking and stretched forward rubbing his back. As he did so he stuffed money into my handbag, cheeky chap. Tholam could see I would honestly have been offended and offered me a deal - as I'd clearly said that Sunny could have the hat. He said:
"Okay, we have two options. You can accept this money, from either Sunny, or me and we can call it a deal... Or, you can make a promise to me."
I waited to hear what the promise might be. What could he want, and why would it benefit me when I was already out of a hat? lol
"You can promise me that.." he looked at the cigarette in my hand, "..you won't smoke anymore. You 'will not', not 'shall not'. And... how old are you?" I told him that I am 24 and my birthday. He continued, "By ten years from now, you will never smoke again."
I smiled and I wasn't sure that he wasn't being serious but he grabbed my hand and said it again. He was looking me dead in the eye and told me that he wanted to live to see his grandchildren, he wanted to live to see his own children grow up, and life was so short, so why would we want to give any of those precious moments up without a fight?
So I promised him. On the 6th of November, 2018 - I will wake up and never smoke again. I've got just over ten years to decide how I want to approach this, but from that day on there will be nothing - no pot (obviously, since I don't smoke that anyways), no cigarettes, no cigars; nothing in that way of dying.
Last night a hat, an Irishman and a promise saved my life. Or, extended it, at least.
You know that niggling feeling you get when something is almost done?
A painting is almost finished - almost everything you wanted it to be. A photograph of some gorgeous fruit - you can almost taste it, it is delicious and so real. An angry portrait - you can feel the emotion radiating from their eyes...
Sometimes I think I can catch it. I'm almost there so often. But nothing ever truly achieves what I hope to. No picture I create seems to fill me completely. I'm always satisfied, but never full. I think that is what drives us as artists. To feel instinctively that we are close to reaching our subjective perfection in our work.
I don't think it makes it any less awe inspiring to know that every single one of us may live our lives never reaching it - it only makes the journey ahead so much more thrilling. There is always that, "what if?"...
Pursuit of understanding and knowledge led you to this perilous land. You'll walk this path whether you know it or not, with the map hanging dead in your hand.
