Displacement

So what have I been up to? Well, trying to rig some characters but the models I created were too dense and in order to connect them to the rig and when it came time to animate it would take hours to get the simplest moves. But all that density is where the details are, what to do? displacement maps are something that work very well on paper but i haven't had much luck with them. the idea is that you sculpt very fine detail in a model and export that detail in a map where black and white, with shades of grey in between represent values of height. What it allows you to do is use a much lower density (resolution) model an still get detail. so back to the atelier I went to figure out how to get them to render correctly. with the help of a few web based tutorials and the Zbrush forum I got it to work. i also took the time to paint the models. Below are two shots, one is a screen capture of a character with actual resolution and the other a render with displacement map. okay, on to skinning and then finally animation.

The Life of a Performer - A Rant With a Moral (sort of)

When people hear "professional dancer" they usually think of a glamorous lifestyle, performing in beautiful air-conditioned theaters and concert halls for upper class audiences or in lovely clean restaurants where the audience delights as you float by their table, smile, and wink. At least that's what I thought when I first started studying seriously.

Well, here I am to ruin this picture for you. Dancers lead a tough life for their art, though I daresay all artists feel that way. Every once in a while, we get to dance in a nice enough theater that at least has fans if not air conditioning. Most of the time, though, usually the stage itself is cool enough, but the dressing rooms are, more often than not, storage closets, attics, or kitchen pantries. We train 3-4 times a week for several hours at a time, unless it's near a performance time, then we train more. We usually sew and alter all our costumes so the night before a performance it's not unusual to find us up cursing at the needle and thread until 3 or 4 in the morning.

We go to a performance and dance our little hearts out hoping that we have touched someone's heart in the audience, hoping against hope that someone out there in the cheap seats recognizes the hard work and effort we've put into bringing something beautiful to their world. Then we go back to our little 100-degree broom closet that sports an unknown black substance on the floor that we know will take about an hour in the shower to clean off, change into our next costume, sweating buckets, trying to keep the black eyeliner and mascara from running into our eyes stinging worse than it already does, and sucking the last drop of water out of the glass. On to the next dance.

Then when all is over, the owner comes in to pay us and gives you half of what we originally set the price at. We argue with him for 20 minutes, hopefully get the rest of our money and walk out with armfuls of bags and suitcases with all the costumes. Typically we usually have a few audience members then come up and validate us a little bit: "Oh my god, you guys are so AWESOME, where can I learn how to do that?" or "Wow, that was an amazing experience, thank you so much!" But there's always one: "Hey that was pretty good. Who do you guys take classes from?" Never mind the training, never mind that we work our asses off choreographing, never mind that I've been performing and teaching professionally for several years. And never mind that I was up until 4 a.m. last night trying to fix the stupid skirt because I seem to have lost 10 lbs in the past week!

So why do I do it? Why dance at all? There are many times I ask myself that question. Wouldn't it be nice to come home after work and all I have to worry about are my cats, cleaning my apartment, which book I'll read next, which vacation I'll take next? Yes, it would be lovely. And I could never do it. Oh, maybe someday I'll retire from performing and just teach, but if dance is in your blood, there's no getting away from it. The sprained ankles, early-onset arthritis, pulled hamstrings, tendonitis, physical exhaustion, all of it is bearable...for dancing. People who don't appreciate our work, an audience member who didn't like it, the comment made by the drunk guy in the corner about how he'd like to remove our costumes for us...these are the things that really make us question whether it's worth it.

End of rant.

I am my own biggest distraction

i have lately come to realize just how long it has been since i've felt like I had the world by the balls. i find myself thinking back to times when the world stood still for me... when time waited patiently for me to catch up. my perception of reality [then] was different. it was simpler and more clandestine. but as the world around me has grown older, i've also realized that good taste has undoubtedly deprived me of a number of friendships and opportunities. my life... my world... revolves around people/things that were never part of the plan... foreign matter (shrapnel) that i have had to learn to love and accept as part of me and my new destiny. i mean... in the middle ages, all anyone really had to worry about were witches and goblins!

Steez at the Movies.

I’m one for my last 5, when it comes to seeing a quality film at the theater. I was becoming a tad turned-off to an activity that I love. Half determined to increase the number of movies I was venturing out to see, hoping that probability would, you know, “do its thing.” Half discouraged, wondering when this terrible streak would end.

Thankfully, I did not have to wait long to end said streak. And, the movie that did so … is my YTD Best Movie of 2008.

Disney / Pixar’s Wall-E.

My interest in Wall-E had been building for some time. Partially thanks to: I love mimicking his voice “wallllll-eeeee,” the advertisements were fun and clever, and I’m a sucker for adorable robots(?). For days, even weeks leading up to my opening night viewing, I could be heard doing my best Wall-E impression, my Facebook status often reflected my interest (and growing obsession), etc.

Fear was present, in my head, that I was going to be bit and bit hard for falling (before viewing) for a movie, pledging faith that I was going to see a quality piece of cinema. It was a fear founded not only in the fact that I’ve seen so many poor movies lately but also the fact that I’m not exactly your typically “animated movie” fan and do be completely honest, Pixar and Disney haven’t come too close to impressing me for a good amount of time.

Now with my typical background building / prefacing out of the way, I’ll jump right in.

Wall-E is the best film, in my eyes, of 2008. The preliminary Box Office report indicates a haul of 62mm, which is a solid 13mm under my (presumably) modest estimate. Apparently, glossy action films with Angelina Jolie DO have a great appeal (actually, no that’s not surprising in the least) and Wanted raked in over 50mm. And yes, I will see that soon (I hope). This number, is a bit of a disappoint me to me, seeing as how from an objective standpoint (not my newly establish Wall-E fan boy existence) I figured that it would do more than 2mm better than Kung Fu Panda / Jack Blacks Jack-Assery.

Why did I like this film so much? Well, to begin … My attention span is horrific, to put it bluntly (I think I was tested for ADD, as a child … Maybe my doctor was incompetent, maybe I should be tested for the adult variety). Any movie that can snare my attention, engage me for over 80% of the runtime … is a good movie, in my eyes (as an essential criterion for my extensive, always-changing checklist on what makes a good movie, for me).

Wall-E locked me down for 100% of the time (well, 97ish, if you count my awkward trip from the center of the isle, to the bathroom. Fuck, I hate that.) with a brilliant story of romance, discovery, dedication and hope … against a backdrop of a strong, but far from preachy message (though also definitely a bit more than a tongue-in-cheek treatment) against the inherent evils of consumerism and the need for environmental consciousness.

Can an animated robot be nominated for an Academy Award?

I’m not ashamed that I now have a thing for Eve (eve-a?), despite my initial judgment that she was frigid bitch.

Make time, very soon, to go see this film. Please.

Paintings by me.

Paintings by me.

More cat pictures

Ok, I'm on a Lord of the Rings kick, just re-read the books for the 15th time.

Crazy Cat People

Here's a shout out to all my Crazy Cat People in the office! If you're like me, your cats are your greatest comfort and betimes, the bane of your existence. How about at 2:00 in the morning when they decide to bring you a catnip mouse and drop it on your pillow? It's even better when they think to wash it first by dunking it in the toilet.

Or how about when they sit and stare at the wall for an hour, twitching their tail, and then out of nowhere, attack an invisible spot, and settle back to wash themselves?

my subconscious made me do it

You may not know this about me, but I doodle. I doodle a lot. Few things in this world are as satisfying to me as ink on paper. In doodles, every line is permanent and there are no mistakes. There is no intention or message behind a doodle–otherwise, it would be an illustration. The first few lines and squiggles start to define a form and the rest fall into place after that.

I recently started a blog to archive my doodles, rather than just tossing them straight into the recycle bin as I have for most of my life. You can check it out here: http://doodlingatwork.blogspot.com. Add it to your RSS reader and let my endless pen wanderings bring a pinch of whimsy into your daily Internetting.

Lift the lid. Take a peek.

Harrison Ford, for a good stretch of time has been more notably revered actors of his era. He’s grossed oodles of dough playing some of the box office’s most recognizable, macho-yet-cerebral, shining-image-of-American-Ideology characters.

Sure, as Han Solo he’s the cool ying to Luke’s awkward yang. I’d make a Patriot Games / Jack Ryan comment, if I’d ever seen any of those movies. He’s fucking Henry Jones Jr. (“we named the dog Indiana. Indiana is a dog’s name”). Being Ridley Scott’s vision of (Philip K. Dicks) Rick Deckard must have been cool as shit too.

He is … GET OFFFFF MY…PLANE!

I don’t like Harrison Ford. Never have. An over-actor, someone who never explored much range; old balls. Then, to boot he dates Calista Flockhart (is that still going on?), dons a single earring, and does Indy 4 (see: my glowing review)!

My favorite Harrison Ford movie, for as long as I can remember, is Regarding Henry.

…

You know who likes to where golf/polo shirts and cargo shorts?

And backwards hats?

And smoke cigs?

Frat guys? No. Your douche-bag, kinda-older-than-you cousin who never went to college? Nazzir.

I’ll save us both some time … the answer is lesbians. Butch lesbians. Their number in ranks is fucking staggering and on one hand they irritate the living hell out of me (see: forthcoming blog post on Lesbian Karoake night… what y’all call Wednesday), but on the other … they tickle my funny bone. What, with their “Friends don’t let friends take home ugly girls” T-Shirts (thanks lesbian version Snorg) and their much-thicker-than-mine legs.

Do you think this particular path they’ve chosen, means they’re more likely to enjoy / be knowledgeable in sports? Or do they do typical woman stuff … just in a cut-off t-shirt?

I think I’ve found a social experiment. Fire up the bunson burners, dust off my lab coat, kids!

…

I like the idea of super-smart cats who are sent into space as contributing, respected astronauts.

it's easy to overlook the subtleties of a moment...

Power Rangers do not wear shoes

few things sound sweeter...

than tickle monster screams

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make beats

Made for the next flier for my monthly at ToST....

Time's Up.

tdisnow@gmail.com

You know what's ticking me off today? Equilibrium.

Equilibrium sucks.

And NOT the scientific stuff that allows us to pee standing up and drink Slurpees lying down. That is all cool with me.

No. The equilibrium that sucks is the social kind that tirelessly regulates all joy, happiness and greasy foods for every person on earth. It is the kind that prevents all of mankind from one day deciding to stop all the bullshit, kick back and take it easy until death.

Rampant, unbridled goodness is an impossibility. For every event in life, good or bad, there is an equal and opposite counterpoint keeping things in check. For all the joy birth brings, there is the agony of death. For all the privilege of the rich, there is the destitution of the poor. For every winner, there is a loser.

And it's the fact that no good comes without its pound of flesh that so aggravates me. If you ever find yourself fortunate enough to receive a little goodness, you must understand that vultures are circling overhead. And those vultures are telling you that a giant shit sandwich is coming due and you, or some poor sap on your behalf, will have to take it down.

And try feeling good about yourself when someone is eating a giant shit sandwich just so you can enjoy your little seven minutes in heaven.

If you can you are one sick sociopath, my friend.

Now, I image the optimists and/or the blissfully ignorant out there have already started up with their "glass is half full" and "embrace life's little victories" self-help solutions.

Save it. I am not interested in that flavor of Kool-Aid.

The truth is the glass is both half-full AND half-empty. You can't have one without the other. And if you think you can just solve your problems by filling the glass completely, you need to ask yourself, "Where did that water come from?"

And then hope the sucker you took it from isn't as thirsty as you.

So what's the point? I guess there is no point, really. I’m just tired of grey. I'm tired of lovely ladies leaving lipstick on one cheek and burly dudes leaving brass knuckle imprints on the other.

I've got equilibrium pissing in my Cheerios on a daily basis.

And it ticks me off.

MagCloud

Something cool from our friends at HP: MagCloud

They are taking the Café Press business model and applying it to magazine publishing. You/your customers/friends/family/etc pay at the very least the production/shipping costs for your (maga)zine to be printed on high-end HP printers. As the "publisher" you can add an additional mark-up to the price and pocket that money.

Me thinks this is a very smart idea for the DIY crowd or other niche communities.

people are generally very tolerant of me

The Girl Effect

forgotten sensations

this was made the summer jeanna was pregnant with henry. the summer heat would be unbearable late into the evenings. our apartment didn't have air-conditioning, so we would drive.

this was the last summer when it was only the two of us, and i often try to recall the smells and the way the wind felt on my face as we drove with the windows open. i think this was one of the last times i really took notice of these sensations. time passed, for the most part, far slower and life felt more deliberate.

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meal planning

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freckles

Chris Jordan: Picturing excess

a wonderful talk on ted that illustrates our waste and cultural neurosis

No one belongs here more than you.

i was cleaning up my delicious bookmarks this morning and came across a wonderful site i hadn't visited for some time. it is well worth the click.

Stories by Miranda July

a sunday morning at our home

A really real Hydrogen car???

Has anyone heard or know anything about this?

http://automobiles.honda.com/fcx-clarity/

Who'da Thunk?

When Seth Godin first wrote about Little Miss Matched about five years ago, they were an obscure little sock company, selling funky socks to fashionable girls.

The idea was beyond clever. 3 to a box, 133 styles, none of them match. Instead of a strategy built around a consultant's vision of 'utility' or a strategy built around cheap or a strategy built around excessive retail distribution and heavy advertising, they built their strategy around one girl saying to another girl, "wanna see my socks?"

They just did a huge deal with Macys and closed a $17 million funding with the folks who financed Build a Bear's retail rollout.

(Credit: Seth Godin)

More on fathers...

Well, again, I have been inspired to write a bit about fathers and grandfathers by some of the posts here.

I am enormously proud of the family I come from, not only hard-working brilliant folk, but sometime war veterans as well. My maternal grandfather fought in the infantry in World War II in Italy. "It'ly" as he would say. My mother was born while he was overseas and did not meet her father until a year later. An imperfect man in many ways, but no less proud and loving of the family he cultivated, he passed on several years ago in Northern VA.

My paternal grandfather was a combat pilot in the Korean War, sometimes known as the Forgotten War. He flew the Corsair which can be viewed in the Air & Space museums in DC and Northern VA. A great man, I am told, for I never had the privilege to meet him, as he died in plane crash when my father was 21.

My father's second wife is a native of South Korea and with her help, he wrote a beautiful work of fiction several years ago called "The Land of the Morning Storm", a touching story that narrates both from the American soldier's point of view in the war and the Korean perspective as well. If anyone ever would like to borrow a copy, I'm happy to loan it to you, it's not readily available in stores.

My ancestors came over to the new world on the ship "Mayflower" where they landed at Plymouth Rock and I am directly descended from the first governor of Massachusetts. My ancestors have fought in the American Revolution, the Civil War (on the side of the Union), and every war that America has fought since it's inception. I hope that I do them justice in memory and in my own beliefs.

And for Ciara's benefit (she told me I had to write this as well), my European ancestry is Welsh, Irish, Scottish, and of course, the cuisine-lacking Brits. Hopefully I inherited more from the Monty Python boys than the cooks. :-)

Hurray for Ocean City!

An excellent wrap on an otherwise crappy site. And to get the mayor involved—Nicely played...


http://morefunhere.com/

day of fathers.

Father’s Day, the day for saying “hey pops, thanks… you know, for being my dad/grandpa.” It’s a good thing we have such days set aside to honor 50% of the parties responsible for our existence. Thanks greeting card, tie, and Tommy Bahama manufacturers, for putting this whole thing together. I’m not a Dad, but I’m sure that if I were, I’d tell you that I appreciate it.

My Father’s Day consists of precisely 5 must-have telephone conversations. No, it’s not because I am the product of an early 80’s gang-bang in which none of the participants wanted to find out who I really belonged to, because not only were DNA testing solutions ridiculously expensive at that point-in-time, but also because they shared the bond of friendship and could not bare to think of a sole-fathership for their darling, bouncing baby Nicholas. (Now, THAT’s the premise for a TV show. Fuck “My TWO Dads,” I gots 5.)

No, no… That is not the reason for my phone calls.

Both of my parents (sharp, glowing, sound people) were the products of broken homes, in most cases (3 out of 4) their parents remarried and established their second marriages before I was born. With this in mind, I’ve always had 4 sets of Grandparents. Big thumbs up to multiple Christmases and such.

After making the rounds, having conversations no shorter than 5 minutes, I realized what’s been true for a good amount of time, and certainly my entire adult life. I’m not as close to some grandparents, as I am others, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love those I have less frequent interactions with… It just means I have more to learn about them, sadly in a limited time frame (how limited? You never know.).

Okay, this post is about Father’s Day, not my Grandparents. My Dad, is the single most influential person in my life. My Grandfathers, they bring their own unique qualities to the table of our relationship, always in a positive way. What is it like for those individuals out there that don’t have that? That have abusive, neglecting, or terrible excuses for men as fathers … as Grandfathers. I have no scientific backing to this, nor am I a statistician but I believe my situation is, sadly, more unique than that experienced by most children out there.

My Dad taught me to be fair, in all that I do. Other children experience the act known as “the bad touch,” the feeling of a father’s fist of frustration and anger and so on.

There’s an opportunity to further dive into the psychological affects of abusive fathers, but I’m not after that. Driving around, enjoying the Sun today (yes, having the majority of the aforementioned conversations), I thought about how grateful I am to have the family that I do.

That is all.

Maintaining that creative drive...

Hi guys,

So I think we've all felt that utter fatigue and lack of inspiration that comes in the midst of a project when you've had setback after setback or you've just been continuing with something for so long that it's hard to stay excited about it. When it involves physical exhaustion and trying to be the leader of a team and keep everyone else inspired as well, it can be almost impossible to keep the spirit of the endeavor in mind and maintain your own excitement about a project.

Can people please share their experiences with this and how they have overcome this in the past?

Thanks!
Andrea

a lesson learned on father's day

we spent the entire weekend doing guy things... watching too many movies, eating way too much red meat and sweets... we had a bbq in the park, played on the beach, rode our bikes and went sailing. we played too much mario cart and ate clam chowder on the pier and tasted the best root beer. it was as much their day as it was mine... i realized that my boys just want to hang out with me. i'm still not sure why.

Kids pictures are always welcome. But kid VIDEOS are better.

And no, by "kid videos" I don't mean anything directed by and/or starring R. Kelly.

Take a good look at this little slice of brotherly love.



Keep a close eye on the slow-mo - because we already know it makes everything better. It looks like we have got ourselves a "Double Header."

You can see this clip, and many more like it, in the upcoming documentary on American child-rearing, "Put Down the God Damn Camera and Do Some Parenting, You Jackass!"

Contentment in a cup of cocoa

It's amazing how many things we need to re-learn through the eyes of our children. Like how to find complete happiness on a rainy day at the bottom of a cup of hot chocolate.

Erin (age 4) with her chocolate-stained grin.

(picture taken on my phone; pardon the low res.)

FARTLEK

Fartlek: Swedish for "speed play"

Why can I only remember the first part of the word?

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Things really ARE better in slow motion.

I submit THIS for your consideration:



(Now taking entries for the Draftfcb edition.)

"Is Google Making Us Stupid?"

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/google

Number of times I stopped reading this article to do something else: 3
Number of times I caught myself skimming (while trying not to): 2

From concept sketch to model

brude_concept_model
Originally uploaded by mostrostudios

This character isn't finished yet but getting closer. The teeth and tongue needs texture work, the skin on the neck also needs some texturing so that it isn't so smooth and the skin in general looks a little too much like plastic but that is as much lighting and rendering settings as it is the 'texture'.

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Things the Japanese Do Better: Pranks.

There are things in this world that the Japanese will always do better than anyone else. Design a reliable car. Craft a perfect sushi roll. Develop an addictive video game. Math.

But that is all old news.

We need to break new ground. We have to answer the questions plauging the minds of inquisitive people everywhere. We must know:

Do the Japanese PRANK better?

Consider the following examples and judge for yourself:





(This one is a bit longer. Make sure and wait around for "Mission II" starting around 3:30.)

HP DreamColor monitor displays a billion colors

HP's DreamColor display is a big hit with artists (a 24" backlit LED display that can show a billion colors). It's relatively cheap at only $3,499.

but who am i kidding? i'm a color retard and see the world in shades of grey.

Sam the seagull stealing Doritos

video from jacci... pretty funny!

butterflies

i think most people eventually loose their ability to relate with the world on a meaningful level. instead, we propel ourselves from one biodegradable moment to the next; struggling to maintain a viable relationship with reality.

is it just me, or does anyone else feel like the desperation in the world borders paranormal.

You know what's ticking me off today? Butts.

I recently went on a trip that had me sitting through the finest in Tacoma traffic. I hear rumors that Tacoma is enjoying a bit of a rebirth of late. Good for them!

I don't see it.

But that is not the point.

The point is, while idling through Seattle's smelly step-sister to the south, I observed five seperate instances of drivers tossing cigarette butts out their car window. I suppose it wouldn't have bothered me so much if it was nothing more than a string of random occurances. But, as it turns out, it is something as common as overcast skies during a Seattle summer.

Somewhere between the invention of the filtered cigarette and 5 minutes ago, an unwritten rule was established that gave smokers carte blanche when it comes to butt disposal.

Smoking at the bus stop? Flick it into the bushes. Smoking in your car? Flick it into the next lane. Smoking outside the bar? Flick it to the curb. Smoking at your buddy's house? Please place butt gently into tattered old Folgers can by the back door and wipe your feet before re-entering.

And just to prove this isn't something I am just making up, here is a little experiment. Go anywhere in downtown Seattle - hell, go downtown in any city. And once you reach Anywhere, USA, look around you. I bet my little brother's milk money that it will take you a mere seconds to find that first used cigarette butt - that seemingly little, innocuous yellow or white cylindar tucked in a crack, corner or crevice. In fact, I bet that image is so common that you never stop to think about how disgusting it is to have entire cities infested with the nicotine keepsakes of so many smokers.

Do all smokers do this? Of course not.

Well, at least I hope not.

Do enough of them do this to make me write a blog about it. You betcha.

Bottomline? It is awful habit. And by that I do not mean smoking. There are other blogs out there, I am sure, that will preach about that little doozie. I am talking about smokers disrespecting everyone around them by throwing their trash around as though it is their right.

It is not.

And it ticks me off.

Words, words, words

Nickity Steez's post about writing got me thinking back to my writing days. I wrote fiction and was also a published poet in high school and college. Though I wore combat boots, ripped jeans, a biker leather jacket complete with zippers and chains, and sported some seriously bright fuschia hair in high school (I refuse to show any of you pictures), switching to radical feminist t-shirts in college, most of poetry was surprising non-angsty.

Many artists seem to feel that writers are not, in fact, artists. I beg to differ. Art originates in the mind and words can inspire and create imagery just as vibrantly visual creations. If you are an artist of any kind and you don't read, you are missing out on an amazingly vast and fruitful source of inspiration. I have always been a consummate bookworm and I read for the pure joy of reading and letting my imagination run away with the story rather than consuming knowledge (not that that's a bad thing either).

In the fast, furious, stressful, high-pressure world we live in, reading what I call "brain candy" or "comfort books" is a great way to relax your mind, use your right brain a little bit, and decompress. I've converted many a non-reader just by making them read the first Harry Potter book. No kidding. Tony Morrison calls the engagement of an open mind with another open mind "the peace of the dancing minds".

End of soapbox/stream-of-conscious crap.

Steez at the Movies.

My calendar says it is June. I don’t believe my calendar. And it’s not just the weather. Shit just doesn’t feel an ounce like summer. Well, to me that is.

With another wet and (fairly) cold hand dealt to the greater Seattle area on Saturday afternoon, some friends and I decided that a Saturday-Rainy-Afternoon-Double-Show-Day-at-the-Movies Day was more than in order. It’s been, no shit, probably 8 (if not 9) years since I’ve done that last. If my memory serves me correctly, the films were first Boiler Room and second Pitch Black.

I would’ve killed to have been viewing those films today in exchange for the 2 movies we did select. First: The Strangers. The Strangers is the latest horror film to successfully not be as cool as its trailer. Most horror movie trailers look like trash, and you wonder “who watches those movies?” But others will sport a great preview and then utterly fail to follow through (a small number has the great trailer / film combo. Like “The Descent”). Whereas I didn’t like the movie, at all, I have been pretty intrigued with the story behind it, the director’s inspiration. Part real life experience, part Manson Family murders, part grisly random stabbing-crime from the 80’s. Hands down, the best part of the film was the music.

With some time to kill before the second movie, thanks in part to The Strangers having (I shit you not) a 79min run time, we ducked into a variety of theaters (after scaring children waiting in line for Kung Fu Panda). Sex and the City, 2 different theaters, 2 different points in the movie … Same result, us giggling at the fact we were there.

With the second movie still a ways in the future, we bit the bullet and subjected ourselves to 20 rounds of the same ads and movie trivia (I guess you can call it that). Thanks again, The Strangers.

20 minutes.

Showtime… Indiana Jones and the Crytstal Skull Thing That’s Actually an Alien Cranium!!!! With Shia LeBeouf AND that lady who was in the other Indy, because *oh dear, spoiler* it turns out that Indy is his dad! Whaaat!

Honestly, this movie was the biggest pile of steaming, gleaming Hollywood bullshit that I’ve cared to even look at in a long, long time. That’s really all I have to say about it.

In other, more hopeful movie news… I’m checking out M. Night Shyamalan’s “The Happening.” Don’t you let me down, Marky Mark. After that, we have some Hellboy II and most importantly… the summer’s true (sorry RDJ and Iron Man) heavyweight, “The Dark Knight.”

(So the movie Gods, in fear that I was angry with my recent theater experience decided to throw me a bone … by rewarding my TV listing search with a showing of “Silence of the Lambs”.)

And that, is Steez at the Movies.

Feed Me.

Awhile back (say a year or so), it occurred to me that I’ve never had a legitimate creative pursuit. Furthermore, it occurred to me that whereas I can be a passionate person, I live my life without a passion that is unique to me. A driving force, something that I love. Because of this, I decided that I would delve into the world of writing, fiction specifically. After taking a class, trying to develop not only a hobby but to find and then increase my ability, starting a blog, and so forth ... I found that I often lack inspiration and let it all fall to the wayside. Working on not letting that happen.

My writing, I feel, is not something I'm particularly proud of ... But I think that’s because I have yet to find my identity (and I’m too harsh of a critic). One thing that I would like to discover, that would help my writing, my creativity, my livelihood is a way to translate (well) my brand of humor in a way that has an appeal for an audience.

I'm seeking inspiration.

Chomp-chomp.

Let me introduce myself...

Most of you know me as PM Extraordinaire :-) at DraftFCB, however, as some of you may know already, I am also a professional dancer specializing in bellydance and East Indian Bollywood dance. I am co-founder and assistant instructor/choreographer of the up-and-coming Blue Lotus Dance Co. Part of my responsibilities in the company is advertising and marketing so we are looking at different target markets and ways to reach our audiences in the Seattle area. The biggest market for what we are doing seems to be the large and affluent South Asian population in the Seattle Metro area. I am going to be working on some promotional designs so I may be asking for some opinions around the office as to the design and impact.

Here's our current web page although it's temporary until we can design and host a full site and domain for the company:
http://nalinidance.com/bluelotusdanceco.html

To the right is one of my original attempts (photography by Nick Chapman). I hope to keep you all abreast of upcoming public performances, I hope you can come see us sometime!

Andrea

more purple lighting!

RegnShoots_1
Originally uploaded by mostrostudios

Another really rough animation test. This is one of the many false starts over the past year or so as I am learning Maya. lighting sucks, animation speed is all wrong, animation itself is a little herky-jerky but there were a lot of lessons learned

flying stuff

DropShip_1
Originally uploaded by mostrostudios

This is an animation that will likely not make the first episode, It was done largely as a test -trying to figure out particle systems for clouds, lighting with refractive objects like glass etc. It was fun to create and didn't take too long to animate or render and it helped me understand how to break a scene intor layers and then composite them back together in Shake or Aftereffects

if obama looses...

i'm fucking moving north to vancouver!

btw... that's vancouver in the background

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oregon coast pre-jack

oregon coast post-jack

Delta-Schmelta.

www.flyderrie-air.com

A super-fabulous idea, indeed. I read an article recently that proffered, "If you ever wanna get a good and valid bead on the true pulse of the world, ask a comedian." What with our new world of fake news and sensationalism, I tend to agree. The darker, the angrier, the better. Too bad this here idea will never see the light of day.

Something To Mull On.

I was reading a bit of Wendell Berry over the weekend, and stumbled across this account of bravery. And I liked it very much.

To Know The Dark

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings
and is traveled by dark feet, and dark wings.

Painting skin weights

blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,

that is how I feel today, just blah and it doesn't help that we have yet another cold , gray day here in Seattle.

So what have I been up to lately? Painting skin weights and creating blend shapes.

WTF is that? in order to create a 3d character you create a 'mesh' which is essentially the skin. Then you create a system of 'bones', 'joints', and controllers that mimic the movement of the human body or an elephant or a car for that matter. You then have to attach the mesh to that system so the bones and joints drive the skin. Maya has a push button for this called 'smooth skinning', you select the mesh, select the bones and hit a button and voila! The problem is that this system doesn't do a very good job of assigning which bone affects what part of the mesh. A mesh is a collection of vertices, and each vertex can be attached to several bones and joints which can make for very smooth and realistic looking skin as a charcter bends an arm or moves its foot or it can result in a mess. Maya's push button system results in a mesh. So in order to fix that you have to go through each bone in the rig and 'paint' how it influences the skin/mesh. It is a tedious, painstaking process that is so boring. It is somewhat rewarding when you rotate an arm or bend a knee and it looks like it should.

I spent probably 15 hours over the weekend painting skin weights for one character. And to be honest I am not 100% happy with the results. May have to go back and tidy up but for now I am moving on to the next character. Eight to do before I can actually start animating. ugh. but it has to be done.

The image is a screenshot of the process. In the image white means a value of 1 or 100% weight and black is 0 or 0% weight. So in this shot you can see that the jaw is not associated with the same joint that the head is. In this case I was painting the jaw so that it opens and closes without the mesh binding or breaking. Exciting stuff eh?

just after the 9/11 attacks

henry...

henry is becoming infinitely complex and interesting.

jack

when i was a small boy...

my father made me a wooden airplane. this one reminds me of it, though mine was golden with 12 gauge shells for jet engines.

first and jackson - seattle

this spring has been cold and rainy. it's june. where the fuck is the sun?

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jeanna gained 55 pounds with henry. here she is 151 pounds at 7 months.

kids are funny