30.11.08
NaNoWriMo
Okay, I know it's been a while, but guess what?
I'm a winner! :B
Yaay.
Final stats!
I reached 50,000 words a day early, but I didn't feel like I would really win unless I brought the story to a satisfactory close.
So, with an hour and fifteen minutes to spare on the east coast, I did.
Final count:
51,637 words. *faints*
You can see my bar graph o' progress here.
And this is my last paragraph. The rest of the manuscript needs a load of work but I like it.
"The streets are empty of the ghostly boys, of women’s blue babies now, as the sun sets and the rain keeps falling as usual. They must be somewhere else, waiting, or the coup could be starting at this very moment. In the hospital boiler room, Skip is stroking his white rat, waiting to see how it turns out, and, a couple hundred feet above him, Clara, Sam and I stand on the threshold of the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. The traffic stops to our left and to our right. Clara takes Sam’s hand, and he takes mine, and together our feet step off the sidewalk and into a puddle, creating a chord of eerie consonance."
...Whew! So um... yeah. Did anyone else participate this year?
I'm a winner! :B
Yaay.
Final stats!
I reached 50,000 words a day early, but I didn't feel like I would really win unless I brought the story to a satisfactory close.
So, with an hour and fifteen minutes to spare on the east coast, I did.
Final count:
51,637 words. *faints*
You can see my bar graph o' progress here.
And this is my last paragraph. The rest of the manuscript needs a load of work but I like it.
"The streets are empty of the ghostly boys, of women’s blue babies now, as the sun sets and the rain keeps falling as usual. They must be somewhere else, waiting, or the coup could be starting at this very moment. In the hospital boiler room, Skip is stroking his white rat, waiting to see how it turns out, and, a couple hundred feet above him, Clara, Sam and I stand on the threshold of the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. The traffic stops to our left and to our right. Clara takes Sam’s hand, and he takes mine, and together our feet step off the sidewalk and into a puddle, creating a chord of eerie consonance."
...Whew! So um... yeah. Did anyone else participate this year?
9.9.08
27.8.08
Bette and Bryan
An illustration for one of my short stories. I'd like to remake it digitally. The large items there are salt and pepper shakers. :D
And, why yes the new school year has started! That means... GD III! I'll keep this blog up as long as we keep working on stuff.
14.8.08
Horrors!
I just saw the weirdest thing outside. A bald cardinal. Literally. It was red and had the same markings as a cardinal, but on it's head? No feathers. None. Zippo. It was absolutely bizarre. It looked like a little monster head peeping out of a big, thick red sweater, since the rest of it's feathers were fine. It was kind of funny that under all those red feathers, though, they have black skin.
...I'm not racist.
AAAAGH PICTURES: Here and Here
...I'm not racist.
AAAAGH PICTURES: Here and Here
1.8.08
This is how summer goes
I eat popcorn and drink tea
I read Kafka aloud in German from a bilingual book
I become a hunger artist, saying to myself "no more blueberries until you finish this page"
But I have no discipline
I always related more to The Trial, anyways.
Oh, and I got my permit.
I read Kafka aloud in German from a bilingual book
I become a hunger artist, saying to myself "no more blueberries until you finish this page"
But I have no discipline
I always related more to The Trial, anyways.
Oh, and I got my permit.
6.6.08
Big Update
Wow, this is going to be a big and exciting post. So hang on.
First, here are my final projects in GD II
This is my GDII Portfolio. I know, right? Call me.
Next is the iPod-style ad that was our video project.
Our last project was a podcast tutorial, which you can listen to here.
And now, here are my two animation projects that I didn't quite manage to post when I finished them.
And lastly... SAKURA SUNDAY! I know it was a while ago, but I only recently got around to organizing all the photos and video.
Here's the shofuso house garden. I took all the images in the panorama myself....You definetly have to click on it, hee hee.
A nice video collection so you can get an idea of all the sights.
And some pictures of the Tamagawa Taiko and Dance team. They were great.
I am SO going again next year! It was incredible.
29.5.08
28.5.08
The First Circle of Hell is A Never-Ending Road Trip
You only have two CD's, a lousy portable that skips all the time, and someone has to stop and blow chunks every few miles.
Also you're in a station wagon where the carpet smells like dog hair and is covered in stains.
Also you're in a station wagon where the carpet smells like dog hair and is covered in stains.
22.5.08
7.5.08
3.5.08
SAT Dreams
I had a very bizarre dream the night before the SAT's (which were today. Which were also not that bad.)
I was up at camp. That's my place. I feel like I know it better than my own neighborhood. At first everything seemed very urgent, probably because I was just trying to fall asleep NOW and sleep for as long as I could before the test. It was like I was being eaten alive by one of the lodges, and with every step I took, it's intestinal tract pushed me in the opposite direction. There were halls after halls after halls. It was very scary, since, dude, I had the SAT's in the morning and I didn't have time for this crap. So eventually I ended up on Deitz Lodge's porch. It was night, and there were some hanging gardens and plants on the patio. Usually there's nothing there. Someone was also there who probably will never be there again. (at least for a while.)
The most unexpected people show up in dreams. This one, for example, moved to Nevada suddenly MONTHS ago.
He was taking three AP tests. THREE! What a masochist.
Next I visited a sort of sadistic plant shop. At first it seemed to be selling potted plants for a bargain, (alas, I had no money.) but they actually turned out to be much more exotic than petunias or what have you. The owner tried to sell me a plant which had the appearance of two beautiful sunflowers tied to a telephone pole. The trick was that you had to deliberately pollute the water you gave to the sunflowers, so that they would wither and die against the pole, which would bloom a year later.
Alas, I had no money.
Finally, finally I got to the location of the SAT tests. It was a room made of lots of natural rock furnishings and it even had waterfalls. I was also really happy to see Levi there, but he told me I was in the wrong place. These were the manga SAT's. Of course, how couldn't I know?
Then I woke up and my dad drove me to the actual SAT location. Two of my friends from church were there. It was great. I really mean it.
I was up at camp. That's my place. I feel like I know it better than my own neighborhood. At first everything seemed very urgent, probably because I was just trying to fall asleep NOW and sleep for as long as I could before the test. It was like I was being eaten alive by one of the lodges, and with every step I took, it's intestinal tract pushed me in the opposite direction. There were halls after halls after halls. It was very scary, since, dude, I had the SAT's in the morning and I didn't have time for this crap. So eventually I ended up on Deitz Lodge's porch. It was night, and there were some hanging gardens and plants on the patio. Usually there's nothing there. Someone was also there who probably will never be there again. (at least for a while.)
The most unexpected people show up in dreams. This one, for example, moved to Nevada suddenly MONTHS ago.
He was taking three AP tests. THREE! What a masochist.
Next I visited a sort of sadistic plant shop. At first it seemed to be selling potted plants for a bargain, (alas, I had no money.) but they actually turned out to be much more exotic than petunias or what have you. The owner tried to sell me a plant which had the appearance of two beautiful sunflowers tied to a telephone pole. The trick was that you had to deliberately pollute the water you gave to the sunflowers, so that they would wither and die against the pole, which would bloom a year later.
Alas, I had no money.
Finally, finally I got to the location of the SAT tests. It was a room made of lots of natural rock furnishings and it even had waterfalls. I was also really happy to see Levi there, but he told me I was in the wrong place. These were the manga SAT's. Of course, how couldn't I know?
Then I woke up and my dad drove me to the actual SAT location. Two of my friends from church were there. It was great. I really mean it.
28.4.08
27.4.08
Masked Boys
I got a wicked sunburn yesterday. My arms are an almost silly shade of pink.
Anyways, these are dolls I made of Yvern and Cirocco. They're about 2 1/2 inches tall each. Yvern (right) is very friendly, but you'd better run if you see Cirocco.
Here also is a little doodle I did comparing the two, and showing them in a bit more detail. :D
Sometimes I consider Takuro to be the third masked boy, even though he doesn't have any kind of mask... yet...
Anyways, Takuro is lower right, Deep Blue and Mothership are upper right, Takuro's dad is center, and... who knows what's in the upper left corner? :P
17.4.08
Things.
http://theufoproject.blogspot.com/
This is my new pet project. If all goes as planned, I might do a modern-art-tastic dramatic reading of these awesome thingies. Whether you believe in UFO's or not, the reports are certainly interesting.
Also, I've been hard at work getting some writing together for an application to another summer program, since my Governor's School application went over about as well as a dead narwhal in a suit at a wedding. And his socks don't match. Well, narwhals don't wear socks but he just brought them along to fit in, and maybe make a few jokes about them to lighten the issue with the 400-pound marine mammal in the room. But he died.
So all the wedding guests rolled their eyes and sighed. No one really liked him, or trusted him for that matter, because his scientifically undocumented migration patterns made him hard to reach. He didn't come home for thanksgiving, and of course that always left a bad taste in his relatives' mouths. He really didn't observe thanksgiving, though. He lived in the arctic ocean. So, if only someone would have told him, he would have probably set aside the week to pop in.
The point is, no one really paid attention to him, or made any attempt to contact him. They just assumed he was a shady character, so they were set on disliking him before he could dislike them. Now, though, they had a rotting narwhal carcass in the middle of their wedding, and they were running out of time to get rid of it before it stained the carpet. It was a hassle, but eventually they dragged him outside and blew him up with some controlled explosives. They put some blue tarps over the little white church so his guts wouldn't stain the walls. It was an antique little church, old and small and innocent, like a lovely, lavender-scented, senile lady.
They hauled away the big chunks of him and cast them into the sea. Then, they put a plaque in the little ditch outside the church, marking where they had put the explosives. It was blank for a while. They sent a postcard to his mother because they thought she would know best what to put on it. None of them really knew if he was a good egg or a bad egg or what his religious beliefs were or even if narwhals had religious beliefs.
She sent them back a postcard three years later, (porpoise post is slow and inefficient, since porpoises are absentminded and lazy despite their big brains,) expressing her grief over the very sudden passing of her son. She assured them he was good, intelligent, and honest. (Though slightly self-conscious.) (Tee-hee, up until the end he would ask me if he had anything embarrassing stuck on his horn at least three times before leaving the house.) She requested that this be engraved on the blank plaque:
He was a good narwhal, never meaning to hurt anyone.
and
Anyone who truly knew him only wished they could have known him longer.
So they went out to find the plaque and engrave it now, but someone had already scratched "308-9953" on the top corner, and "Jodie H. is a whore!" in the corner opposite.
They sent another postcard asking the mother for $60 for a replacement, and if she wanted to change the message at all. It wasn't elegant, or horribly relevant to human understanding, after all.
Finally, after five years, damn porpoises, they received a soaking wet and salty package, filled to the brim with fine shells, and a distressed letter explaining that the poor mother of the dead narwhal didn't understand "dollars" and that she hoped this was good enough payment to get a new plaque somehow. She also wished to add a line to the inscription, if it ever happened, and if it wasn't too much trouble.
He was a good narwhal, never meaning to hurt anyone.
and
Anyone who truly knew him only wished they could have known him longer.
and
He died heroically for the sake of an elaborate simile.
Also, I need some help proofing some French translations I did on the Internet. They're for one of my stories, the one in Germany. The Obeeeeese Pikachu one. Because the doctor is dead and Clarimonde is now the main character and a native speaker of French.
Also, it's getting warmer. Which makes me both sweaty and energetic and also sometimes jittery. Where did April go? (I said the same thing about March.)
I'll post some things from Sakura Sunday and other stuff I've been working on as soon as my Internet starts working better. *grumble*
This is my new pet project. If all goes as planned, I might do a modern-art-tastic dramatic reading of these awesome thingies. Whether you believe in UFO's or not, the reports are certainly interesting.
Also, I've been hard at work getting some writing together for an application to another summer program, since my Governor's School application went over about as well as a dead narwhal in a suit at a wedding. And his socks don't match. Well, narwhals don't wear socks but he just brought them along to fit in, and maybe make a few jokes about them to lighten the issue with the 400-pound marine mammal in the room. But he died.
So all the wedding guests rolled their eyes and sighed. No one really liked him, or trusted him for that matter, because his scientifically undocumented migration patterns made him hard to reach. He didn't come home for thanksgiving, and of course that always left a bad taste in his relatives' mouths. He really didn't observe thanksgiving, though. He lived in the arctic ocean. So, if only someone would have told him, he would have probably set aside the week to pop in.
The point is, no one really paid attention to him, or made any attempt to contact him. They just assumed he was a shady character, so they were set on disliking him before he could dislike them. Now, though, they had a rotting narwhal carcass in the middle of their wedding, and they were running out of time to get rid of it before it stained the carpet. It was a hassle, but eventually they dragged him outside and blew him up with some controlled explosives. They put some blue tarps over the little white church so his guts wouldn't stain the walls. It was an antique little church, old and small and innocent, like a lovely, lavender-scented, senile lady.
They hauled away the big chunks of him and cast them into the sea. Then, they put a plaque in the little ditch outside the church, marking where they had put the explosives. It was blank for a while. They sent a postcard to his mother because they thought she would know best what to put on it. None of them really knew if he was a good egg or a bad egg or what his religious beliefs were or even if narwhals had religious beliefs.
She sent them back a postcard three years later, (porpoise post is slow and inefficient, since porpoises are absentminded and lazy despite their big brains,) expressing her grief over the very sudden passing of her son. She assured them he was good, intelligent, and honest. (Though slightly self-conscious.) (Tee-hee, up until the end he would ask me if he had anything embarrassing stuck on his horn at least three times before leaving the house.) She requested that this be engraved on the blank plaque:
He was a good narwhal, never meaning to hurt anyone.
and
Anyone who truly knew him only wished they could have known him longer.
So they went out to find the plaque and engrave it now, but someone had already scratched "308-9953" on the top corner, and "Jodie H. is a whore!" in the corner opposite.
They sent another postcard asking the mother for $60 for a replacement, and if she wanted to change the message at all. It wasn't elegant, or horribly relevant to human understanding, after all.
Finally, after five years, damn porpoises, they received a soaking wet and salty package, filled to the brim with fine shells, and a distressed letter explaining that the poor mother of the dead narwhal didn't understand "dollars" and that she hoped this was good enough payment to get a new plaque somehow. She also wished to add a line to the inscription, if it ever happened, and if it wasn't too much trouble.
He was a good narwhal, never meaning to hurt anyone.
and
Anyone who truly knew him only wished they could have known him longer.
and
He died heroically for the sake of an elaborate simile.
Also, I need some help proofing some French translations I did on the Internet. They're for one of my stories, the one in Germany. The Obeeeeese Pikachu one. Because the doctor is dead and Clarimonde is now the main character and a native speaker of French.
Also, it's getting warmer. Which makes me both sweaty and energetic and also sometimes jittery. Where did April go? (I said the same thing about March.)
I'll post some things from Sakura Sunday and other stuff I've been working on as soon as my Internet starts working better. *grumble*
14.4.08
9.4.08
Spare Time
...Also. If I can figure out how to post our flash and animation projects here, I will. It's confusing.
25.2.08
Computer Nerd
These old personal computers from the 70's and 80's are kind of ridiculous-looking today. But back then, they were COOL.
4.2.08
1.2.08
31.1.08
30.1.08
16.1.08
A little off topic... but...
I'm so excited for the new Ace Attorney game. Capcom just put up a playable demo TODAY. Wow, it's really fun, and the writing is hilarious, as usual.
I guess I'm mainly posting this for Mr. Wertz, who didn't know about the Ace Attorney series when I first brought it up as the subject for my magazine project. So here's a taste of what it's like... This is a really authentic example of how the DS game is played. Everything down to the on-screen effects are fundamentally the same. Thanks, Capcom!!
I guess I'm mainly posting this for Mr. Wertz, who didn't know about the Ace Attorney series when I first brought it up as the subject for my magazine project. So here's a taste of what it's like... This is a really authentic example of how the DS game is played. Everything down to the on-screen effects are fundamentally the same. Thanks, Capcom!!
15.1.08
Beck-Discography
From left to right, top to bottom.- Stereopathic Soul Manure (This one was hard to base off the cover of the album.)
- Mellow Gold
- One Foot in the Grave (This one was the easiest thanks to the monochromatic cover.)
- Odelay (The dog makes this one my favorite cover)
- Mutations
- Midnite Vultures
- Sea Change (Another difficult one!)
- Guero (Very similar to Odelay...)
- The Information (Yay, graph paper!!)
10.1.08
The Enchanting Wizard of Rhythm
Refrence Photo
This is the original design. I made it by desaturating and darkening the photo, and tracing pure black areas with a vector tool.
And this is the final product. I tried to use the color schemes to represent one of his albums each. I guess you could say they are Odelay, One Foot In The Grave, and Midnite Vultures. Or thatt's what I was thinking. I should make one for each. :D
9.1.08
4.1.08
2.1.08
Horizon
I hated The Jungle but for this one I ended up using the same idea. Hrm.
Also, I know it's late but I couldn't use Illustrator over the break. :(
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