No Talking Tuesday # 130
No list, nothing special to report.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Chicken Coop
In a pretty drastic break from my normal sentimental, saccharine, overly whimsical indulgent attempts at poignancy, this piece was conceived to flex my more unused literary muscles. The idea is that a short novel would follow this prologue, though I'm not sure I have the stomach to sustain this sort of tone. I may come back to it in the future when I eventually shed the pansie boy whimsical aesthetic I still insulate myself with like so much baby fat.
Prologue
I turn from the sky
to check on my muddy boots
slung over a branch to dry
and wonder how long I've been lost
in this steamy autumn morning
gone for so many years.
I follow the dripping black of my bootlaces
to a dusty road winding back across farm plots
to the buried town of my past
the past I had promised myself to leave there.
The town innocently ripples with the new day's light
indifferent of my return.
I lay back against the cool grass
closing my eyes to the sun
sending blistering sparks of color
shivering like fireworks through my eyelids
and rushing me down into the old dirty bucket of my memories
mixing with some kind of run off
Mr. Peterson collects from his coop,
chicken shit mostly.
We laugh as his little gimp daughter falls against the sick hogs.
We help her fill the troughs with black apple cores and beet stems,
when really both of us want to fuck her stupid ass.
Beat out her retard screams
like we're butchering one of those diseased hogs.
We never say as much
we don’t have to
we get so bored out here we develop a sixth sense for each other.
Joey and I were spending summer break
digging ditches, sweeping up shavings at the mill, cleaning stables.
All the pettily shit people would rather pay a dime than have to bother with.
The important thing was we were earning money,
since Jenny McNeil started showing her tits down by the creek
and charging admission.
Jenny said she would strip down to her socks and bracelets
for a private showing Sunday after service
if Joey and I could come up with a dollar fifty between us.
Jenny goes to my big brother’s high school.
He says she’s a ripe slut. Even lets guys stick their hooks through her shitter.
He says her father must have done a number on her
and I don’t doubt it.
Everyone sees how he runs his big leathery mitts over her pig tails
wishing he could grab them like reigns
and fuck her puckered little mouth
if no one was awares.
But we are awares.
everyone is,
and never says a word.
This town is a sort of jail,
too familiar with itself,
ignorant of the world outside.
Like a coop of chickens shitting themselves,
shit that piles up
waiting for someone
to return with a bucket
and collect it.
Abstract:
A gaggle of dirt faced children clamoring around a rural farm town circa thirties dustbowl. They are unusually independent and mature for their age. (In selective areas, such as lack of squeamishness about sex, violence etc.) An unnerving surrealism permeates the town, closed in on itself, full of strained smiles, hurried whispers, and full churches.
The people are sad and pathetic, but without disgrace. The kids are taught to be “normal”, but can’t absorb teachings soaked in the hypocrisy of the adults. And instead learn to be distorted mirrors of them. The kids are sexual, nihilistic, ambivalent and brazen without shame.
Steeped in unrelenting boredom, they develop and nurture all kind of perverse thoughts and activities, kept just under the grownup’s radar. But keeping things just under radar is a theme of grownups, and the town in general, and all this unaddressed shit builds up to a future breaking point...
In a pretty drastic break from my normal sentimental, saccharine, overly whimsical indulgent attempts at poignancy, this piece was conceived to flex my more unused literary muscles. The idea is that a short novel would follow this prologue, though I'm not sure I have the stomach to sustain this sort of tone. I may come back to it in the future when I eventually shed the pansie boy whimsical aesthetic I still insulate myself with like so much baby fat.
Prologue
I turn from the sky
to check on my muddy boots
slung over a branch to dry
and wonder how long I've been lost
in this steamy autumn morning
gone for so many years.
I follow the dripping black of my bootlaces
to a dusty road winding back across farm plots
to the buried town of my past
the past I had promised myself to leave there.
The town innocently ripples with the new day's light
indifferent of my return.
I lay back against the cool grass
closing my eyes to the sun
sending blistering sparks of color
shivering like fireworks through my eyelids
and rushing me down into the old dirty bucket of my memories
mixing with some kind of run off
Mr. Peterson collects from his coop,
chicken shit mostly.
We laugh as his little gimp daughter falls against the sick hogs.
We help her fill the troughs with black apple cores and beet stems,
when really both of us want to fuck her stupid ass.
Beat out her retard screams
like we're butchering one of those diseased hogs.
We never say as much
we don’t have to
we get so bored out here we develop a sixth sense for each other.
Joey and I were spending summer break
digging ditches, sweeping up shavings at the mill, cleaning stables.
All the pettily shit people would rather pay a dime than have to bother with.
The important thing was we were earning money,
since Jenny McNeil started showing her tits down by the creek
and charging admission.
Jenny said she would strip down to her socks and bracelets
for a private showing Sunday after service
if Joey and I could come up with a dollar fifty between us.
Jenny goes to my big brother’s high school.
He says she’s a ripe slut. Even lets guys stick their hooks through her shitter.
He says her father must have done a number on her
and I don’t doubt it.
Everyone sees how he runs his big leathery mitts over her pig tails
wishing he could grab them like reigns
and fuck her puckered little mouth
if no one was awares.
But we are awares.
everyone is,
and never says a word.
This town is a sort of jail,
too familiar with itself,
ignorant of the world outside.
Like a coop of chickens shitting themselves,
shit that piles up
waiting for someone
to return with a bucket
and collect it.
Abstract:
A gaggle of dirt faced children clamoring around a rural farm town circa thirties dustbowl. They are unusually independent and mature for their age. (In selective areas, such as lack of squeamishness about sex, violence etc.) An unnerving surrealism permeates the town, closed in on itself, full of strained smiles, hurried whispers, and full churches.
The people are sad and pathetic, but without disgrace. The kids are taught to be “normal”, but can’t absorb teachings soaked in the hypocrisy of the adults. And instead learn to be distorted mirrors of them. The kids are sexual, nihilistic, ambivalent and brazen without shame.
Steeped in unrelenting boredom, they develop and nurture all kind of perverse thoughts and activities, kept just under the grownup’s radar. But keeping things just under radar is a theme of grownups, and the town in general, and all this unaddressed shit builds up to a future breaking point...
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
No Talking Tuesday # 128
The List:
well i basically need a gigantic texture for them since so much area is being stretched on
one uv space, so i made a texture from difference clouds run through various filters, the wall and
ground are actually the same material with same textures, so it's kind of weird that they
came out so differently, but in any case i didn't get into it too heavily for this pass
well the way it is now, it can hold up at anything, i went overboard and made a incredibly huge texture
yea that one
yea it will probably require some re uving etc.
so for this world that your speaking of, for tweaks etc.
i think i'm coming on my limit of being productive with having to rely
on jun to do all the maya tweaks and trade files with me,
also i can't render more than 8bit images, or use the interactive
3d viewport in fry render to scale textures and whatnot to match camera view
well i'm running a crack which is of a old version and it doesn't have some featres
and some of the rest don't work with current version, or maya etc.
no i haven't tried any legitimate way. but isn't it locked to his computer i thought?
i thought i remember him saying it was locked but maybe that was mudbox or something
well i would have to re scale u'vs or else scale textures in fry, in fry i would have to render
each time to guess and check since i can't use their viewport and if i did it in maya
it would be messing with jun and create new fry scenes to transpose my shader, render, environment values etc. either way it would get done, it would just be slow and not efficient, but otherwise
i don't have any problem working on that today.
i can also try to continue making a good tile able stucco
are there other articles i could begin?
i've only written two articles thus far
one was sixish pages and the other about the same, but they're both very image heavy, so
depending on how your illustrating your points, page number could be meaningless
i think i only have like three articles total to do, and one isn't ready for me to start yet
i think i'm still good,
one thing though, is we want to be able to see rotating 3D preview of assets within this
interface right? Ok well i have a main theme idea and a bunch of variants on it to pitch to you
what might be good is to do that first thing tomorrow, then i can mock them or it up which
should be pretty easy.
In any case the idea i have i think may be shnazzy, so get ready!
The List:
well i basically need a gigantic texture for them since so much area is being stretched on
one uv space, so i made a texture from difference clouds run through various filters, the wall and
ground are actually the same material with same textures, so it's kind of weird that they
came out so differently, but in any case i didn't get into it too heavily for this pass
well the way it is now, it can hold up at anything, i went overboard and made a incredibly huge texture
yea that one
yea it will probably require some re uving etc.
so for this world that your speaking of, for tweaks etc.
i think i'm coming on my limit of being productive with having to rely
on jun to do all the maya tweaks and trade files with me,
also i can't render more than 8bit images, or use the interactive
3d viewport in fry render to scale textures and whatnot to match camera view
well i'm running a crack which is of a old version and it doesn't have some featres
and some of the rest don't work with current version, or maya etc.
no i haven't tried any legitimate way. but isn't it locked to his computer i thought?
i thought i remember him saying it was locked but maybe that was mudbox or something
well i would have to re scale u'vs or else scale textures in fry, in fry i would have to render
each time to guess and check since i can't use their viewport and if i did it in maya
it would be messing with jun and create new fry scenes to transpose my shader, render, environment values etc. either way it would get done, it would just be slow and not efficient, but otherwise
i don't have any problem working on that today.
i can also try to continue making a good tile able stucco
are there other articles i could begin?
i've only written two articles thus far
one was sixish pages and the other about the same, but they're both very image heavy, so
depending on how your illustrating your points, page number could be meaningless
i think i only have like three articles total to do, and one isn't ready for me to start yet
i think i'm still good,
one thing though, is we want to be able to see rotating 3D preview of assets within this
interface right? Ok well i have a main theme idea and a bunch of variants on it to pitch to you
what might be good is to do that first thing tomorrow, then i can mock them or it up which
should be pretty easy.
In any case the idea i have i think may be shnazzy, so get ready!
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Post Cards
I wrote this a couple years ago, after graduating and moving to LA.
I recently went back to smooth it out along with a bunch of old writings and paintings
I'm attempting to bring to final form.
I'm pretty happy with the way this conceit plays out,
and the piece went on to prove strangely prophetic,
which I always take as a sign of validation.
____________________________________________________
Hey Anna
It's Ali, from high school. Do you remember me?
We ate lunch senior year together behind the theatre
and sneaked notes during independent reading.
Anyway, I was going through some stuff while moving
and found the photos I developed
from that time we went kite flying at Farren Road,
and remembered I promised to send them.
Sorry we lost touch. I actually had a dream about you last night
where we were trying to wash this little brown dog together,
but it got loose and ran through your parent's house knocking stuff over…
I woke up missing you. Hope you get this.
Running out of space,
-Ali
PS. Write back on postcard.
Ali!!!
Of course I remember you! It’s great to hear from you again.
Please excuse the late reply, but I don’t live in SB anymore,
I live in Middlesbrough England now. (Crazy I know!).
So your postcard/photo forwarded here just yesterday.
I love the photo!
I keep staring at it. It kind of makes me sad, in a good way.
I have so much to ask you but I'm running out of space also;
what are you up to now?
Still painting? Why postcards? And not e-mail, phone, etc?
Seems you’re still weird. That’s good.
-Anna
Anna,
*Read this while very warm.
May I suggest lying in a duffel bag full of dryer fresh clothes?*
England = You're cool. But why? Torrid love affair go wrong?
Left you stranded, turning out your knickers for quid's and shillings?
I still paint. I work as a 3D artist for games/animation.
Artsy-fartsy plus nerdyness basically, emphasis on the fartsy.
What’s with the building on your postcard?
Some obvious English monument I should know about?
Are you trying to say I'm an uncouth savage?
How dare you.
-Ali
Ali,
Haha!
I was laughing all through practice from your last card.
Oh yea! I totally forgot to mention.
That building is a concert hall I played.
Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not a traumatized prostitute,
I play viola for the Smithton Orchestra now.
Knickers? Shillings? Your British vernacular needs help... hehe.
You work in video games! Awesome for you,
that’s what you always wanted right? Way to go!
No more space = Sad Ana. :( Write back soon.
-Anna
PS. I love this photo as well!
PPS. I read your card after I got out of a warm shower. Mission complete!
Anna,
You’re a viola-ist playing concert halls and such?
Ana = Un-precedented level of coolness.
You've inspired me to change my daughter's name to “Ana”.
…Then my wife would be upset,
because the name “Maya” is important to her
and her fundamentalist half baked hippy belief system.
We would get into an extended argument
and grow ever more bitter and distant…
I’m going to think about you and do a stream of consciousness
word association thingee………. “Ana”:
Roller coaster pie
Systematic abbreviation
Cornish game hen
Bunchy sac
…Results are inconclusive. Possibly I'm hungry?
-Ali
Ali,
Wow... Back up mister…
I had trouble decoding your weirdness on the last card…
Are you married!?? With child!?
You said you moved, and I see these cards are coming from LA,
when and why did that happen?
What’s your wife do? How old is Maya?
Do you have any other children?
I remember you as the hopeless virgin,
too involved with his art to care about the dating world...
Please put your deft linguistic trickery on hold and fill me in!
-Anna
PS. Sorry for the authoritative tone in this card,
but I just burned some popcorn
and writing this letter in a smoky foul smelling apartment has me miffed.
PPS. I am not a bunchy sac!
Anna,
“PS”, more like “PMS” ….Hiyoooo!
(Wow… campy pun/Letterman reference
doesn’t really work via postcard…)
Ok, judging by the record breaking number
of exclamation marks on your last card I see you mean business.
I promise to be on my best behavior.
First off, no I’m not married, nor do I have any children.
You are right to continue labeling me as a “Hopeless virgin,
too involved with his art to care about the dating world”.
That was a hypothetical hippy wife and child tangent
to illustrate how impressed I was
with you being a professional musician.
-Ali
Ali,
Okay my feet are back on solid ground,
I really believed you were a husband and father for a second there.
To be honest I was worried your “wife” would see the post card
and wonder what business you have with a woman in England.
These cards are making me impatient!
I want to know more than a paragraph at a time!
So yea, Los Angeles? What’s up with that?
Do you live with anyone? Do you just work all the time?
Dating? Travel? Free time? Etc.
No space left,
-Anna
PS. I'll be in Wales for a few weeks for a performance,
I want a juicy card waiting when I get back!
Anna,
I emerged from my art college cocoon
and spread my new wings of geekyness,
to fly to LA for work.
I live alone, and spend most of my free time painting and writing.
I go out with friends sometimes,
but nothing comes of it dating wise.
What about you? Besides the Athenian style young boy orgies
im sure you regularly throw; what’s your “flat” situation?
Do you have a Cambodian lover who comes over
in the middle of the night smelling of gin and gun smoke,
ravishing you while screaming war cries?
-Ali
Ali,
Cambodian lover? Who told you about Muhenbai?!
Just kidding. No orgies or violent lovers on my end.
I live in a studio at the back of a small side road
in south Middlesbrough and don’t have any flat mates.
I used to, but no one wants to hear me working through
a tough passage in a Bach concerto over and over
at two in the morning… So now I live alone,
and can practice to my heart's content.
I want to see some of your art and writing!
I still have the yearbook,
with all those obscene bird drawings you did in it.
I wonder how different you look from high school?
-Anna
Anna,
Your poignant self description
gives me hope that you’re still the lonely girl,
focused, and pensive. With the frighteningly arresting eyes,
I couldn’t look into without embarrassment.
If you don’t mind I wrote this about you.
I never wrote about someone before,
so im not sure if this is flattering or offensive…
Like an Ocean
Your less like a star
and more like an ocean
only the sky knows to cover your naked surface
tremoring in want for firm press
while below a strained secret
lies as still as innocence
you're less like a star
and more like an ocean
heavenly clamor is too shrill and high minded
for an ocean of want
forgotten at the end of this world
blurred to sleep
by the quite rhythms
of a lost rain.
Ali,
Sorry for breaking the post card rule,
but I wanted you to have this.
Make sure you open the package in private.
My number's on the back,
please call me.
-Anna
I wrote this a couple years ago, after graduating and moving to LA.
I recently went back to smooth it out along with a bunch of old writings and paintings
I'm attempting to bring to final form.
I'm pretty happy with the way this conceit plays out,
and the piece went on to prove strangely prophetic,
which I always take as a sign of validation.
____________________________________________________
Hey Anna
It's Ali, from high school. Do you remember me?
We ate lunch senior year together behind the theatre
and sneaked notes during independent reading.
Anyway, I was going through some stuff while moving
and found the photos I developed
from that time we went kite flying at Farren Road,
and remembered I promised to send them.
Sorry we lost touch. I actually had a dream about you last night
where we were trying to wash this little brown dog together,
but it got loose and ran through your parent's house knocking stuff over…
I woke up missing you. Hope you get this.
Running out of space,
-Ali
PS. Write back on postcard.
Ali!!!
Of course I remember you! It’s great to hear from you again.
Please excuse the late reply, but I don’t live in SB anymore,
I live in Middlesbrough England now. (Crazy I know!).
So your postcard/photo forwarded here just yesterday.
I love the photo!
I keep staring at it. It kind of makes me sad, in a good way.
I have so much to ask you but I'm running out of space also;
what are you up to now?
Still painting? Why postcards? And not e-mail, phone, etc?
Seems you’re still weird. That’s good.
-Anna
Anna,
*Read this while very warm.
May I suggest lying in a duffel bag full of dryer fresh clothes?*
England = You're cool. But why? Torrid love affair go wrong?
Left you stranded, turning out your knickers for quid's and shillings?
I still paint. I work as a 3D artist for games/animation.
Artsy-fartsy plus nerdyness basically, emphasis on the fartsy.
What’s with the building on your postcard?
Some obvious English monument I should know about?
Are you trying to say I'm an uncouth savage?
How dare you.
-Ali
Ali,
Haha!
I was laughing all through practice from your last card.
Oh yea! I totally forgot to mention.
That building is a concert hall I played.
Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not a traumatized prostitute,
I play viola for the Smithton Orchestra now.
Knickers? Shillings? Your British vernacular needs help... hehe.
You work in video games! Awesome for you,
that’s what you always wanted right? Way to go!
No more space = Sad Ana. :( Write back soon.
-Anna
PS. I love this photo as well!
PPS. I read your card after I got out of a warm shower. Mission complete!
Anna,
You’re a viola-ist playing concert halls and such?
Ana = Un-precedented level of coolness.
You've inspired me to change my daughter's name to “Ana”.
…Then my wife would be upset,
because the name “Maya” is important to her
and her fundamentalist half baked hippy belief system.
We would get into an extended argument
and grow ever more bitter and distant…
I’m going to think about you and do a stream of consciousness
word association thingee………. “Ana”:
Roller coaster pie
Systematic abbreviation
Cornish game hen
Bunchy sac
…Results are inconclusive. Possibly I'm hungry?
-Ali
Ali,
Wow... Back up mister…
I had trouble decoding your weirdness on the last card…
Are you married!?? With child!?
You said you moved, and I see these cards are coming from LA,
when and why did that happen?
What’s your wife do? How old is Maya?
Do you have any other children?
I remember you as the hopeless virgin,
too involved with his art to care about the dating world...
Please put your deft linguistic trickery on hold and fill me in!
-Anna
PS. Sorry for the authoritative tone in this card,
but I just burned some popcorn
and writing this letter in a smoky foul smelling apartment has me miffed.
PPS. I am not a bunchy sac!
Anna,
“PS”, more like “PMS” ….Hiyoooo!
(Wow… campy pun/Letterman reference
doesn’t really work via postcard…)
Ok, judging by the record breaking number
of exclamation marks on your last card I see you mean business.
I promise to be on my best behavior.
First off, no I’m not married, nor do I have any children.
You are right to continue labeling me as a “Hopeless virgin,
too involved with his art to care about the dating world”.
That was a hypothetical hippy wife and child tangent
to illustrate how impressed I was
with you being a professional musician.
-Ali
Ali,
Okay my feet are back on solid ground,
I really believed you were a husband and father for a second there.
To be honest I was worried your “wife” would see the post card
and wonder what business you have with a woman in England.
These cards are making me impatient!
I want to know more than a paragraph at a time!
So yea, Los Angeles? What’s up with that?
Do you live with anyone? Do you just work all the time?
Dating? Travel? Free time? Etc.
No space left,
-Anna
PS. I'll be in Wales for a few weeks for a performance,
I want a juicy card waiting when I get back!
Anna,
I emerged from my art college cocoon
and spread my new wings of geekyness,
to fly to LA for work.
I live alone, and spend most of my free time painting and writing.
I go out with friends sometimes,
but nothing comes of it dating wise.
What about you? Besides the Athenian style young boy orgies
im sure you regularly throw; what’s your “flat” situation?
Do you have a Cambodian lover who comes over
in the middle of the night smelling of gin and gun smoke,
ravishing you while screaming war cries?
-Ali
Ali,
Cambodian lover? Who told you about Muhenbai?!
Just kidding. No orgies or violent lovers on my end.
I live in a studio at the back of a small side road
in south Middlesbrough and don’t have any flat mates.
I used to, but no one wants to hear me working through
a tough passage in a Bach concerto over and over
at two in the morning… So now I live alone,
and can practice to my heart's content.
I want to see some of your art and writing!
I still have the yearbook,
with all those obscene bird drawings you did in it.
I wonder how different you look from high school?
-Anna
Anna,
Your poignant self description
gives me hope that you’re still the lonely girl,
focused, and pensive. With the frighteningly arresting eyes,
I couldn’t look into without embarrassment.
If you don’t mind I wrote this about you.
I never wrote about someone before,
so im not sure if this is flattering or offensive…
Like an Ocean
Your less like a star
and more like an ocean
only the sky knows to cover your naked surface
tremoring in want for firm press
while below a strained secret
lies as still as innocence
you're less like a star
and more like an ocean
heavenly clamor is too shrill and high minded
for an ocean of want
forgotten at the end of this world
blurred to sleep
by the quite rhythms
of a lost rain.
Ali,
Sorry for breaking the post card rule,
but I wanted you to have this.
Make sure you open the package in private.
My number's on the back,
please call me.
-Anna
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
No Talking Tuesday # 127
The List:
TUESDAY
Finishing sussing out fry shader logic, nd values etc.
Install Fryrender
WEDNESDAY
Get comfortable with it, poke around
Create good stone shader for frieze
Create good stucco shader
OSARIO - Talk about shot with Jun/Todd, get fly through render ready
THURSDAY
With shader created for generic stone and stucco, do lighting render tests
Test sky system, atmosphere, glare and bloom, render layers etc.
Test camera properties
Test compositing layered render strategies
OSARIO - See rendered test as is now
OSARIO - Make a hit list of objects with textures that don't hold up
FRIDAY
Test shaders and lighting and compositing on render of decapitation frieze
Make custom version of stucco and stone shader to match frieze specularity/variation
OSARIO - Revisit and rework textures that don't hold up
MONDAY
With finished shader-ed, lit, rendered, composited frieze scene, add color texture
Tweak color texture
Do really high quality high rez render
The List:
TUESDAY
Finishing sussing out fry shader logic, nd values etc.
Install Fryrender
WEDNESDAY
Get comfortable with it, poke around
Create good stone shader for frieze
Create good stucco shader
OSARIO - Talk about shot with Jun/Todd, get fly through render ready
THURSDAY
With shader created for generic stone and stucco, do lighting render tests
Test sky system, atmosphere, glare and bloom, render layers etc.
Test camera properties
Test compositing layered render strategies
OSARIO - See rendered test as is now
OSARIO - Make a hit list of objects with textures that don't hold up
FRIDAY
Test shaders and lighting and compositing on render of decapitation frieze
Make custom version of stucco and stone shader to match frieze specularity/variation
OSARIO - Revisit and rework textures that don't hold up
MONDAY
With finished shader-ed, lit, rendered, composited frieze scene, add color texture
Tweak color texture
Do really high quality high rez render
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