Alone and bored on a thirtieth-century night...

Verbal Doodle - "There wasn't one to give."

2012-02-12T19:24:00.002-07:00

There wasn't one to give. Out of all the times for this to happen, it's certainly the most unfortunate. There are some things you take for granted, such as shoelaces. And when you're strutting around with two shoes on, both of which sporting it's own length of thread to match, you seldom even notice that they're present at all. And so when it finally does come time for someone else to walk a length in those shoes, it's important that they actually stay in place. And when you're missing a lace, well, that tends to make things difficult. The intent and the vehicle are there, but that stupid piece of string kind of ruins it all. You're used to those shoes. They fit like they've pounded the pavement with you for too many miles. Which, really, they have. But it immediately becomes apparent that something so basic has been so perfectly tailored to you that they can't even function on someone else. How intimate. Standing on the precipice of something that should be so simple, and it falls apart (and falls off) due to the tiniest thing. A damn shoelace.

Verbal Doodle - "The horse came back alone."

2012-02-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

The horse came back alone. At what point it became alone was completely unclear. But the well-worn saddle and blanket laid across its back seemed to indicate that it once had a faithful companion. The hooves were muddy. Too muddy. And that same off-red dirt could be seen in dried out flecks of mud along the torso, indicating that there was some recent velocity involved. But here it stands in the clearing, looking me dead in the eye. What did it see, I wonder? What did it hear? And what did it lose?

Privately Public

2012-02-05T20:00:00.004-07:00

You know, one of the things that crosses my mind a lot in regards to this wonderful digital wordspace I have going on here is the fact that it's public, open to any random nomad of the internet to stumble upon. And despite the fact that many of those 325 posts cover such riveting material as nerdy reviews, useless opinions, and absolutely inane documentation of mundane day-to-day life, a good portion of it... Is really personal stuff. Mind you, I put a lot of effort into stripping out identifying details and mixing in a few tablespoons of vague to keep things a wonderful shade of grey. But when all the fluff is boiled away, there are the remains of a chunk of me.

There are some things I put up here that are tough to get out, and tough to see articulated into words put up for the entire world to see. But that's why I do it. It's kinda like releasing it out into the wind. It goes from something inside to something that has sudden weightlessness and directionless freedom. Most likely it'll get blown around and land in a forest, or in the sea. Maybe it'll actually float to a town, where it'll set down on a street corner. This is where some random passer by will bend over, pick it up, and briefly glance at the contents on their way to dump it in the trashcan three feet away. Such is the nature of this 'internet' business, really. It's all noise buried on top of noise. And I don't have any illusions of grandeur - this, all this, is nothing more than a pixelated speck in the larger JPG of the world.

But it means a lot to me. It's semi-sensitive stuff. I'm glad that I've set it free and it's one less thing for me to carry around in my head, but there are bits that are still very much tied to me. So I generally don't advertise this thing to the people I know. I'm glad that the select few people that do know about this thing do. I trust their opinions, and I'm glad to share something that's important to me with them. I wouldn't hesitate to discuss any of this stuff with them.

What kinda bothers me though... Are the few people that aren't supposed to see this. You know, those people that you only kinda know. Practically acquaintances, with not much of a personal connection. That wonderful grey zone where they don't really know you well enough to understand what you've written, and you don't really know them well enough to feel comfortable talking about it. Yes, this is all up there for the public to sift through. So I don't have any right to complain. So if you're reading this, practically acquaintance person, I don't want to know about it. It's this emotional juxtaposition of taking a formal relationship and dumping in something intimate that has no right to naturally exist in this kind of circumstance. Internal dissonance and discomfort to the max, yo.

So the idea was presented to me that I should, perhaps, make this whole thing private. Therein lies the issue. Yes, it would get rid of this hesitation I'm having. But this whole thing is practically its own organic identity that I'm joined at the hip with. Sure, I have a say in things... But with the nature of the relationship between me and what/how I write here can't be tampered with. And that includes who sees it and how it's presented. It ain't for me to dictate. Just be. And so when the thought came to me that, maybe, I should be changing what I write about to remove those awkwardness-spawning personal connections... It immediately felt like the wrong thing to do. So screw that. This is what it is, and maybe I'll pay the price in some sort of social discomfort. But I think it'd be more than worth it.
-Cril

Mescalito - No Half Measures

Lost & Found (but mostly lost...)

2012-02-02T00:01:00.000-07:00

Found: One set of black LG earbuds with an on/off button and a regular jack.

So there I was, enjoying a conversation with a friend, when you came into a coffee shop in the downtown area. You were a man with "a flappy stripey half-mohawk and black and white shirt and skin-tight low-flying pants", as my friend later described to me. You see, I didn't really get a chance to see you that clearly for myself, but we were close for the briefest of moments. Oh so close.

As my friend and I were conversing, you strolled over and leaned on the banister by our table and slightly behind me. You even set your earbuds down there, briefly, which I saw out of my peripheral vision. I had no idea what you were up to, but by watching the eyes of my companion I could tell that there was something... Special that was happening.

After a few moments and without any warning, you leaned in close. I could feel your hair brush against the side of my cheek. And that's when you told me... Something. Something completely incoherent. We still have no idea what magical phrase you uttered into my ear, but you didn't hesitate to then try to steal a kiss before stumbling away. You bounced off of counter, table, and chair like a pinball before finding the exit. And it wasn't until later that we realized you had left behind a lonely set of black earbuds. The only token of our all-too-brief and mysterious encounter.

And you're more than welcome to have the back, of course. We'll be more than happy to return them to you. The only thing I ask in return, my dear sir... Is to know what you said. It continues to haunt me. Such a short phrase uttered in passing before you walked (or ricocheted, rather) back into the dark night and out of my life forever.

Giterdun

2012-01-30T21:21:00.003-07:00

Ok, so, follow up! Last week I made the grand goal to, and I quote, "Get 'er done." I am now ready to announce that... There was not much which had been got done. But it was better than the previous week, so that counts for something. I just can't quite seem to put my foot down and do the work needed to get on top of things, rather than leaving it to the last minute. So far I've found myself thinking, "Hey, this isn't so bad. This could be a real easy semester. I'm doing okay so far." And then I realize that one course as so far consisted of 1-2hrs of super lax research homework a week. The project actually starts now and a good chunk of creative work is due on Wednesday... That I have yet to start. Bravo, me. I wanted to get a piece of that out of the way this weekend, but it seems like the last few days have somehow been yanked out from underneath me.

Hopefully this week goes better.

I go to New York in three weeks. That kinda freaks me out.

I'm almost a month/quarter of the way through the semester. That freaks me out too.

Ok. I need to get off my butt and get some creative-type work done. Really, there's a BUNCH of personal creative stuff I want to do, but I need to focus on school-type creative stuff.
-Cril

I heard a pistol shoot, yeah, and it was a .44
Somebody killed a crap shooter cause he didn't, shake, rattle, and roll
Hey hey hey hey, alley's the roughest place I've ever been
All the people down there, killin' for their whisky, wine, and gin

I saw a cop standin', with his hand on his gun
Said "This is a raid boys, nobody run"
Hey, Hey, Hey, alley's the roughest place I've ever been
Yeah they took me away from tin pan alley
And took me right back, to the pen

Stevue Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble - Tin Pan Alley

Verbal Doodle - "It’s not my fawlt I wuz home skoold."

2012-01-28T11:00:00.000-07:00

“It’s not my fawlt I wuz home skoold.” At least, that’s what I was supposed to say. But when your fingers go to do their tap dance across the keys, other things tend to happen. All those pretences kinda float away when you run into the fact that changing the way your thoughts spew out of your head tends to change the thoughts themselves. If you take too long constructing expression meant to be so… Deconstructed, things start to pile up in the back of your brain. Like a traffic jam of some sort. You know how it is, people start rubbernecking and things slow down to a crawl even though it’s just a duck sitting in the grass 5ft from the road. And when thoughts get jammed up, they ferment. They get all… Funny. And I ain’t talkin’ humourous, either. It’s the way that something that was your own all of the sudden grows half a dozen limbs and walks off in a completely new direction, leaving you wondering where the hell it went. ‘Home skoold’, eh? Yeah, no thanks. I see the point, and I’d entertain it if it didn’t mean getting distracted by ducks.

Verbal Doodle - “Half the lies I tell you are not true.”

2012-01-24T13:00:00.000-07:00

Half the lies I tell you are not true. And I know what you’re thinking – this is one of those wonderfully tepid logic games. And I guess it is. But when you’re sitting across from a pair of pocket knives, there comes a point where you start to question things. Was that dress really red, I wonder? What about that dinner – would it have been better with turkey or with a roast? They’re all equally moot points by now, of course. But these things tend to burn at the back of your skull. So while I sit here, with you… What burns at your skull, I wonder? Are these half-truths worth the time and frustration to unravel, or does it simply get to the point where you throw away the dress and skip a meal? Some things, perhaps, aren’t meant to be known. And the other half of things, well… That’s up to you and what you do with a lonesome duo of blades.

Bits n' Pieces

2012-01-22T13:03:00.003-07:00

Ok, this is it. I've been complaining about a lack of concentration since I've gotten back, but that stops now. Friday night I sat down and pounded out an assignment that was due the next day, and it felt good to be locked in for several hours on the task at hand. I need more of that. Less distractions and stalling. Time to get 'er done. I still need to focus on my personal goals, but I think that if I make the most of my designated work time, I'll be in good shape.

In other news, I just bought be some drugs. Of the hippy variety. That's right, I loaded up on a bunch of natural supplement pill... things. Omega 3, Vitamin B Complex (ooh, that sounds impressive...), and Probiotics. I followed a suggestion from a friend of mine who knows much more about such things than I can wrap my head around. Which lead me to spend the equivalent of 50% of my monthly grocery budget. So if it's a bust, it'll be an expensive bust. But if it does some good, then it'll be worth it. It's a a bit of a pricey fix until I finish school and I'll be able to start really focusing on maintaining my health. We'll see how it goes. I wish I could get out and exercise more, though. Oh well, first things first...

Looks like I'm buying an iPod Nano. Bleh. My old iPod Touch died, and so my uncle lent me one he wasn't using. Which I'm still using. And I should probably give it back to him. So after much looking around, I figured I'd try out a Sansa Clip+. Which sucked. Very small, very basic device. Which was okay, in theory. It had a microSD slot, so I figured it could work. And then came the fatal flaw - it doesn't support play counts. Also, SongBird didn't quite work. The playlist support was... odd, and it didn't let you check/uncheck tracks for syncing. I could work around the software management, but losing play counts broke the deal. So after looking around, I couldn't find any decent or affordable alternatives, so I broke down and ordered a 16GB Nano. I just don't have the time/energy to keep looking at some of the bajillion players out there, or to screw around with migrating my music library. Ideally, I wish I had a 12GB iPod Mini. That wasn't made by Apple. I don't want a touch screen, I don't need a colour screen either. I just want to be able to easily access and manage my music, not through iTunes. Alas... Such a device doesn't exist. Like I said, hopefully when I get more time/energy I'd like to find an affordable non-Apple solution. But until then, I have to admit... The Nano is pretty decent bang for buck. Really wish I wouldn't be stuck with that stupid touch screen, though.

I spent yesterday evening with some friends. I made dinner, and we watched some Top Gear. It was a good evening. The episode was a bit... Lack luster, though. It felt too scripted. And I think their budgets for getting cars were way too high. I'm worried that that show, as much as I adore it, is getting to formulaic. But I'll keep on watching. 'Cuz face it... It's Top Gear. It's the best television show... in the wuhld.

Anyways. As you can tell by this wonderfully disjointed smattering of mere word-things, my head is in a really weird place right now. Actually, it's in a few different places. But hopefully this won't last long. Until then... Just gunna keep on truckin'.
-Cril

Orbit - Transient

Verbal Doodle - "Larry Made Me Late."

2012-01-18T10:27:00.004-07:00

In the one academic class I have this semester, our prof is getting us to do a "verbal doodle" once a week, where he gives us a starting phrase and we write for 4-5 minutes based off of that. I'll post 'em, just 'cuz I can. This one is from last Friday:

Larry made me late. That jerk. I never quite understood what his problem was. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, there was one too many tuna fish on my desk. Which is odd, considering how large my desk is. But I digress. You see, Larry is the sort of guy that does what comes to mind. Usually, the first thing that comes to mind. It’s nice to see that kind of spontaneity from time to time, but it gets a bit tiring to be around. Either way, here I am. And I am indeed here now. But late. And I blame Larry for that. Him and that damn tuna fish.

Tak tak tak.

2012-01-15T19:44:00.002-07:00

So, I've finished my first week. It seems like I have a pretty good lineup of professors, and I think the project outlines look pretty encouraging too. If I didn't have the New York trip, an internship and a portfolio show...thing to worry about, I think I'd be feeling a lot more optimistic about the semester. Lots to do, lots to do.

I've done a miniscule amount of homework this week, and I had a really difficult time focusing. I feel all sorts of jumbled and distracted.

...like now. I just don't got no inspirations. I don't really feel much of a drive. Kind of a scary feeling, especially as school starts up. I think this has a lot to do with the lack of sleep over the past couple months.

But, er, yeah. I'm going to stop here. This is pointless. At least I wrote something, right? Gotta stick to those goals...
-Cril

Hans Zimmer - Discombobulate

An Addled Republic

2012-01-08T23:00:00.003-07:00

So I started classes this week. Friday was some academic (3hr) course, and Saturday was a studio (6hr) course. I'm pretty happy with my professors so far. They seem like really good dudes, and I'm excited for what we'll cover. I know it's way too early to tell, but I have a slightly better feeling about this semester than the last one. Mind you, that doesn't take into account that I have classes all day Saturday and then none on Monday. It's like switching Sunday and Saturday around, and my internal clock is already feeling befuddled.

All of these good vibes start to fade a bit when I think of everything else that's going on, though. I'm going on a trip with a bunch of classmates to New York over reading break. I'm sure it'll be a great experience, but it'll be a pretty exhausting thing to do in the middle of the semester. That, and between paying for tickets and such and not being able to go to work that week, my wallet will feel the pain. Pretty quick after I get back there'll be a portfolio show too, which I'll need to get my stuff ready for. Then there's an internship I need to do in the spring, which I've yet to do anything for. Add on top of this a smattering of work and freelance with a pinch of personal goals... Bleh. It's easy to feel overwhelmed. I keep on finding myself thinking, "But wait - I have Mondays off! I can do this!" Only to realize seconds later that, oh right, I don't have Saturdays off any more.

I've been working on doing a better job defining some of the personal goals I've made. Breaking them down into more specific, to-do style tasks. That's making me feel simultaneously confident ("hey, I think I'll be able to do that one thing") and overwhelmed ("...those are a lot of things"). We'll see how it goes. On the plus side, I'm not week into the new year and I've been keeping up with both my sketching and playing music. And as of right now, my blog writing too. That's gotta count for something.

There's a lot I have going on in my head, though. If I had entire week to myself, I still feel like it wouldn't be enough to get it all down my journal.
-Cril

As we've written our stories to entertain
These notions of glory and bull market gain
The teleprompter flutters, the power surge brings
An easy speed message falls into routine

Providence blinked, facing the sun
Where are we left to carry on
Until the day is done
Until the day is done

R.E.M - Until the Day is Done

Ring In

2012-01-01T22:32:00.002-07:00

So, 2012, eh? Or rather, a lack of 2011, eh? In years previous I've done a big ol' wrap up thing, where I said what my favourite movie/album/game/event/food/weather pattern/colour/screwdriver head was. Buuuut... Not this year. 2011 wasn't a whole lot of fun, I've gotta say. It was another year of school and work, nothing too notable. Well, financially, the year went a bit better than I expected. Alas, like every year, I still had two significant car issues.

Over the last few months, though, it seems like I've been hit upside the head with the Brick of Existentialism. The resulting haze has left me stumbling and fumbling around with a fistful of uncertainties that are keeping me up at night. But, oddly enough, I've come away with a couple of important realizations. I'm not sure if they're directly the result of said existentialist ponderings or if they just happened to come along at the same time and as a result of other things that have been transpiring. What are those realizations? Drawing/sketching and making music are important to me. Ok, so maybe they're more 'rediscoveries', but that still counts, right?

It's kinda sad that it's taken me this long to figure these two things out. I think that taking the illustration course last fall really killed what enjoyment I got out of drawing. It's tough when everything you do is to meant to be evaluated and scrutinized. I produced some good pieces that I'm really proud of, for sure, but along the way I completely lost sight of whatever personal fulfillment I got from the process. And over the last two months, I've found that I really enjoy drawing when it's meant for me. Not only that, but I've found that I enjoy drawing in a physical sketchbook. I still want to do more digital stuff, but I've been doing all sketchbook stuff over the winter break so far, and I've been having a good time with it.

The need to make music started with a classmate who started keeping a guitar in the studio at the beginning of the year. He'd pick it up and noodle away during break and during the weekends we spent on campus. It was fun to watch, and nice to listen to. I picked it up to try it maybe twice before the summer break, but his musical antics were enough to persuade me to go and buy a cheap ukulele. And I fell in love with it, strumming out stupid little chords. I can't sing along to save my life, but it's such a great feeling to sit there and mess around. And you know you've found something good when you think to yourself "I'll just play for ten minutes and then I'll get back to work", and when you look up you realize that forty minutes had swept by while you were trying to figure out that one chord progression. It's a great feeling. Bad for my work ethic, of course, but a great feeling nonetheless. And now I find myself with a mandolin that is just as easy and addictive to play. I've been neglecting the sax a bit, though. When I get that out I get totally sucked in. It's a 1.5hr commitment, at minimum.

And I've also kinda figured that, yeah, writing is important too. This is generally one of the first casualties to the start of a new semester, but I get a lot out of it when I do it. There's a certain peace from knowing that my ideas have been recorded somewhere and won't be a victim to my poor memory. Then there's the cathartic/expressive part to it, being able to form thoughts into coherent words, sorting things out in my head so that they make sense. And then with some more frustrating things, it's a liberating thing to get it out and put it online, so that it can grow its own wings to fly away from me.

I'm usually not the one for cliche, optimistic New Years resolutions. But I seem to have a long, growing list of things I want to change or do differently. So here is three of the more obvious ones. I'm going to keep doing blog posts (at least) once a week, homework be damned. They may be short and stupid and disjointed, but they'll happen.

I'm also going to keep sketching regularly. Don't know if I'll do it every day or not, but hopefully at least a couple of times a week. If nothing else, I want to regularly attend figure drawing, which happens once a week.

Finally, keep playing instruments, at least a few times a week. Pretty similar to sketching - try and find the time to make it happen as regularly as possible. Keeping the ukulele at school will make it easy to play. The trick will be the mandolin and sax, which I keep at home. I'll need to make the time to be here with the energy to do it.

Something to shoot for. These are probably going to be the three easier goals for me to tackle, but I think it doesn't make them less important. It'll help me to spend some time not working, if anything else, which I'm sure I could use.

So, yeah. 2011 kinda sucked. But I think it might be the start of... Something. And maybe 2012 is going to suck too, as I try and see that something through. But hopefully that path will make life better as I travel farther along it. Okay, Mr. 2012. Let's see where we go from here.
-Cril

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky
The flying cloud, the frosty light
The year is dying in the night
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die
The year is dying in the night
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die

Ring out the old, ring in the new
Ring, happy bells, across the snow
The year is going, let him go
Ring out the false, ring in the true
The year is going, let him go
Ring out the false, ring in the true

Mormon Tabernacle Choir - Ring Out, Wild Bells

Please, please, pity my knees

2011-12-25T23:26:00.003-07:00

I suppose I could take this opportunity to do some kinda post-semester recap. I want to save that for later (assuming I actually get around to it), but suffice it to say... It was a crappy semester. Maybe a more general year-end post would be the better way to tackle this. Right now, as the last few precious drops of Christmas evening are evaporating, I want to talk about how this was quite possibly, the worst Christmas I can remember.

It's the worst Christmas by the numbers, that is. Not many presents, barely any money. Fewest amount of family at home. Least amount of time spent together. A complete lack of energy and enthusiasm. 'Christmas cheer', it seems, has been a rather elusive beast this year. No one, no one, in my family was feeling it this year.

But you see, it still turned out to be a pretty good time. We all knew it was shaping up to be a crappy Christmas, and that no one really had any drive to do anything about it. So we... Took it easy. Sure, from a more traditional standpoint, everything was rather pathetic. But being there, it turned out alright. Not fantastic, but it was still a good time, for sure. We hung out, and shared low expectations. Not so much celebrating Christmas as trying to enjoy what little, brain-dead and disjointed time we had together. We all felt kinda bland, but we felt bland together. And that made it alright.

Point in case? When I arrived earlier in the week, neither my brother or I had figured out anything for Christmas gifts. So we went shopping. Bought some bulk candy, which we picked at for a bit before dividing up. Then we went to various stores and malls for several hours. Eventually we ended up in a department store where, being the shining examples of mature, responsible adults that we are, we bought every member of our family Nerf guns. It was stupid, but it was perfect. We all spent 10 minutes laughing like idiots this morning, after we unpacked, loaded, and took potshots at eachother. And we continued to chuckle like idiots while we hunted around the house for many of the spent projectiles that will probably stay hidden under various furniture for months to come.

So it turned out okay, I think, because of the mutual lack of enthusiasm. We shared it together, and that's what made the whole thing bearable.

I'm having a rough time disengaging from the semester. There was so much work that I had to get done, and to just flick that switch off... It's pretty jarring. And I have things to do over the break, for sure, but I find myself finding more things to do, because I feel the overwhelming urge to compensate for the lack of homwork. I feel bad for spending so much time being unproductive. I guess that depends on how you want to define word, though. It's unproductive from the school definition - crossing things off lists, seeing tangible results, accomplishing tasks, logging hours. But perhaps being unproductive in that vein is productive in another way - maintaining... Me.

I can't measure how much I've improved with playing an instrument over the past few days (and if I could, I'm sure it'd be depressingly low), but I know that I've gotten something else out of it. I've sat there and played for what feels like minutes (nothing good, mind you), and it feels great. Well, great with a fine coat of guilt on top of it. "You should be getting x or y or z done...". I've also been sketching more than once a day. In years past it has felt like a bit of a chore, but less so this time around. Sometimes inspiration or capability doesn't come, but overall it feels less like I'm banging my head against a wall.

This might all be the result of how long I've been trying to keep myself folded up into the box of homework. Now that I do have the time to let it out, it flows easily. But it flows with chunks of guilt bobbing in the waves. Should be doing stuff. Should be working. Should be, should be, should be... And I have been getting some stuff done. Small things, but things all the same. But it's never enough, is it? Bleh. Bleh, I say.
-Cril

Whoa there Santa you gave me a scare
Now stop teasin' 'cause I know you're there
We don't believe in no goblins today
But I can't explain why I'm shakin' this way

Louis Armstrong - 'Zat You, Santa Claus

Holes

2011-12-18T22:18:00.002-07:00

Ah, the end of the semester. I'm on my last project, it's due tomorrow. I'm actually on the easy part - I just need to plug in some content. But as these things tend to do, I'm rapidly losing steam. The hardest, easiest hurdle can be the highest and hardest one to have the motivation to tackle. But I'm probably going to be in good shape. This'll be another long night, sure. But it'll get done.

Over the last year or so, as I've gotten to know my classmates in the program, I've noticed a trend when it comes to the end of the semester. I get a lot of resentment. A lot of people tend to scoff and say what good shape I'm in. One person bugged me about 'I bet you've actually slept over the last two days haven't you? And eaten three meals a day, probably.' As if I magically have the capability to plow through my assignments in record time with no effort. I kinda take offense to it, in some way. I could list all the things I do that allows me to be in such 'good' shape to them, comparitively. But it isn't a contest. It just feels like I get put on some alternate plane where I automatically don't have to try. I'm some mindless, production robot. Nope, not an ounce of strain or stress on my part. Not at all. What right do I have to complain when my projects aren't going to plan or I'm not feeling confident about it? Bleh. Ramblerambleramble.

It's now been about a week and a half since I last drove my car. There's a hole in my heart where that belongs. There's nothing else to say here that I haven't mentioned in some of the MANY other posts where I talk about my car problems. It's a thing. A stupid thing. It shouldn't matter. But it does, and not getting to drive my car is really eating away at me. Bleh.

Last week, shortly after my car b0rked on me, I had a project I needed to travel across the city to do. Graciously, my uncle and aunt lent me their spare car so that I could go do it. I'm so lucky to have great people on hand that care for me. But I digress. The car didn't have an auxillary plugin for the stereo. So after a few minutes of getting frustrated with trying to listen to radio, I gave up and went the rest of the way in silence. Then when I arrived, I wasn't in a setting where I could listen to my iPod. So I did the project for a couple hours, packed up, and traveled back in silence. I wish I could say something about how profound it was to listen to the world for a change instead of earbuds, but it wasn't. I went that entire morning without my music, and man did it leave a void. Every morning, every morning I commute with music. It was such an alarming break to the routine. I'm not even sure if 'routine' is the right word - it makes it sound so plain and mundane. It made the rest of the day feel unusually surreal, actually.

Anyways. My eyes grow blurry. I need to get this last project done.
-Cril

Moby - Slow Light

Week of Hell, Pt 3

2011-12-11T21:55:00.003-07:00

It's Sunday? Ugh. It's Sunday. I have so very little sense of time right now. I'm just impressed that I've been running all day on 5hrs of broken sleep and a small bag of pierogies.

I'd just like to say that there's something to be said for a positive outlook on life. But right now, at this moment, screw that. Life right now sucks. Like, a lot.

Dear universe, is there anything else you'd like to throw at me? Maybe lose my laptop? Have my broken car spontaneously combust and burn to the ground? Might I suggest putting another one of my relatives in the hospital? Oh, I know. A massive hard drive failure would probably do it.

I'm a week from being done the semester, assuming I last that long. If I don't fall down dead within the next five days, I'm assuming that I will be crushed by a random piano falling from the sky.

I'm sure I'll survive, and everything will be okay. I'm not sure what will be anything left of me that's worth while, but there will at least be some charred remains. Life sure feels like hell right now. Too many things have gone awry over the last week, and my brain is broken in too many ways. Some perspective would probably do me good. I am not a beautiful or unique snowflake. I just need to suck it up and get my work done.

The homework. She beckons. (Back) into the breach.
-Cril

Celldweller - Ursa Minor (Electron Mix)

Sweet Desperation

2011-12-07T01:13:00.004-07:00

There's something beautiful in the desperation of a 1AM car repair. The way that that a ratchet echoes off a street full of sleeping houses. How the hand fumbles through a maze of machinery to see what the amber street lights decline to illuminate. Trying to peer through foggy breath at that contorted collection of wires as the fingers, crisp with freezing winter air, strain to ensure that a screw won't fall and sink to the bottom of night's abyss. The effort to try what can be done, the precious little that can be done, in hopes that it'll make that magic difference. The way that this last valiant effort to redeem the day by accomplishing something of use is rejected by the fates. How that familiar 'clack' of the lock fortifies a car, as if it would prevent a would-be thief from eloping with a machine that refuses to start in the first place. Numb digits grasping up belongings from the curb and groping for the house key. A trudge up the path, through the front door, and into Tomorrow.
-Cril

Tangerine Dream - Tomorrow Never Knows

Letters

2011-12-06T12:21:00.005-07:00

There's something in the way
the rhythm of a missing string moves
Notes and notes picked in grey
sighing sweet reverberation

Awake, awake, awake
by definition, at least
Churning and turning and trampling
across fields folding in on themselves

Commuting on the Bus of the Defeated
to a feeling of far away

A constriction of sorts
and some frustration of certainty
in the uncertain

-----
...well, that was wonderfully angst-y and depressing. I have no idea what any of this is/was, and I'm not sure if each 'verse' meant to be all be together or not. Just kinda thoughts and half thoughts that've been swirling around my cranium over the last lil' while. I ain't no poet or prosesmith, so take this refuse for what it is.
-Cril

And I,
I called through the air that night
A calm sea voiced with a lie
I could only smile,
I've been alone some time
And all, and all,
It's been fine

And you,
You had hope for me now
I danced all around it somehow
Be fair to me,
I may drift a while
Were it up to me,
You know I'd

Beirut - Port of Call

Gotta Get Through

2011-12-04T21:57:00.004-07:00

Mistake #1: Going to bed at 3AM last night.
Mistake #2: Getting up at 7:30AM, going for a walk, shoveling snow, getting groceries, doing some homework
Mistake #3: Having a nap from 11:20AM-12:45PM
Mistake #4: Going into the office to work from 7:00PM to 8:45PM

My internal clock is so thoroughly buggered right now. Feels like the entire day's been a hazy dream. I can't think, so I'm going lay down my bones to rest for the night. I should do homework for two or three more hours, but I just don't know how to. This is going to be a long week. I'm just tired. So tired.
-Cril

There's no escaping now
Let me show you how
What it feels to be true

There's no escaping now
Let me show you how
What it feels to be true

I've been workin' baby
For too long now
I've been searchin' baby
A way to tell you how

Chemical Brothers - The State We're In

Electrified in Blue

2011-12-04T10:35:00.002-07:00

Bleh, don't know what to say here. I'm feelin' tired and have far too much work to do. As the end-of-semester crunch tends to go, I keep flipping between paralyzed with stress to feeling like I might just come out on the other side with all of my limbs attached.

I need to do a personal website, an advertisement for work, two series of three advertisements for advertising (go figure), design an exhibition, and prepare, execute, and document an installation piece. Then there's some personal stuff, some other work stuff, some social stuff, and other stuff I need to get sorted. Bleh.

There's so much to write, and so little time to do it in.

...

Unfortunately, at the moment, it appears that I'm stuck in freaked-right-out mode, and I can't stop thinking about what I need to get done. I wish I had all the the time in the world and sit here and type away. So, for the time being and until next week, know that I am, in fact, alive and breathing.

Somewhat.
-Cril

Outside the colored lights they bleed
For snow is white and colors need
As it just comes down like pure salvation

Trans-Siberian Orchestra - Christmas Nights in Blue

Fresh off a bus to Six Years Later

2011-11-27T16:45:00.004-07:00

It was six years ago today that I stepped off a bus, into a different province and a new job. It was like some sort of lame montage from that predictable, dime-a-dozen chick flick/drama that you'd never watch twice. Never the less, I jumped into my first full time employment, doing manual labour and other such menial tasks that you get minimum wage to do. The first day was a blur, like a hazy dream. All I can recall is that I sat there making springs all day long, because that's what someone told me to start doing, and I was so clueless about everything that I just kept on going.

And I kept working, blinked, and it was six years later. Somewhere along the way, I moved up in the world of sweeping floors and from taking things out of boxes and putting them in other boxes. I went from dabbling with the odd graphic design task to doing it as a primary position. At one point I made a few minor corrections on the website, and before I knew it, I was the go-to-guy for managing most of the online content. Instead of chipping in the odd idea for advertising, I seem to be heading up most marketing efforts, including evaluating donations and sponsorships. Now I'm a laser engraver technician of sorts, the content-writer most news posts, coder for newsletters, a non-coding developer for a new website, and... Other things, too. A far cry from winding springs all day. And through some truly bizarre twist of fate, I've found myself as the most senior employee.

And I think that's what really bothers me. Because I secretly have no idea what I'm doing. Well, I've dabbled in probably 70% of all areas within the company, so aside from The Bosses, I guess I technically should be capable, to some degree. And I won't lie, having people come to you with semi-significant questions or being asked for an opinion on something that's not directly under your control feels good. Really good. I like the idea that I have something valuable to contribute. But I'm not sure how much if it I deserve

This kind of became obvious this summer, though, when said The Bosses went on some summer vacation, and I was left as The Guy In Charge. Truth be told, the staff is wonderfully independent and capable, and I barely did anything managerial-like. But in those few cases where I had to jump in, what I did do didn't pan out so well. Not so say I burned down the building or made any big disasters, but some mistakes were made. I'm not sure how much of a success those two weeks as acting Big Cheese were, but it sure was a learning experience.

When I look around at my co-workers, I see a lot of talent and intelligence. Sure, I have more experience in a bunch of different categories, but I don't think I'm really the master of any of them. So I guess like any decent leadership, it's about trusting those that you're working with. It's just kind of tough to reconcile that I'm the one with most seniority, which (in theory) equals most capability.

It's also worth noting that while it was six years ago that I started working here, about only about 2/3 of that has been spent at full time. When I work part time during the school year, I miss out on a LOT. And that really drives me nuts, to walk in and do your important tasks, all the while having very little feel for what else is going on. There's more to it than a quick 15min meeting to see where everything is at - a big part of it is being able to feel and perceive the mood of the people around you. And that's something that's really hard to pick up on when you're working very limited hours.

So when it came time to choose my days off for Christmas, it didn't quite feel right to be told that I had first pick. By years of seniority and total logged hours, yeah, maybe there's some truth there. But I feel kinda bad taking that privilege when there are people around me that work just as hard as I do and have put in more hours over the last year.

There was a joke made last week, albeit a rather inappropriate one, where my boss mused that if I were to drop out of school, I could return to full time work and give the boot to the person that had been hired to take over most of my design and content management duties. Aside from the questionable act of joking about someone losing their job... I really don't like the idea that I'd get treatment like that above someone else. It just doesn't sit well with me. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that I'm appreciated and they find I'm valuable enough that they want me back full time. It means a lot. But I don't like the idea that it may or may not come at one of my coworker's expense. Whether it be with wages, making decisions, performing roles or tasks, choosing holidays, or the job position itself... If it's interfering with someone else, it just doesn't feel right.

Maybe I still see myself as that doofus that stepped off a bus six years ago, with nothing more than a fistful of summer and temporary jobs under his belt. Seniority? What's that? Yeah, maybe I'll get some of this 'seniority stuff' one day when I'm a grown, serious adult that's been a part of the working world for a million years. The fact that I usually work part-time doesn't really help, convincing me that the time I do put in doesn't actually count.

I don't know. I feel like I'm rambling on about nothing, as I tend to do. I guess this whole seniority thing just feels foreign.

But yeah. Here's to six years.
-Cril

Celldweller - Through the Gates

And the Insult of the Year goes to...

2011-11-19T20:11:00.009-07:00

So.

It's not often I get so thoroughly chewed out, especially by someone I'm close to. But that's where I found myself yesterday evening. I was sitting at my laptop, alone in the studio at the end of the day, when it happened and I was left wondering where the pit of my stomach had fallen to. Said chewing-out occurred over chat no less (which must truly be a sign of the times we live in). But let's rewind a moment, shall we?

The other night I was having a late-night discussion with a friend about some pretty personal kinda stuff, when it came time for me to spill out an opinion. Now, I'm going to say up front that everything I said had merit. The ideas were relevant and important. The way in which they were delivered, however, was not. In an impressive (and, quite frankly, rather disturbing) display of Total Jerkiness, I instantly became a Total Jerk. I have no excuses for this, really. I had determined the core ideas I wanted to say, sure, but they seemed to take on a life of their own once they reached the chat window (via my fingers via the brain, which may or may not be in proper working order). No one deserves to be ranted at like that. For whatever reason, I stopped talking to the person on the other end and started typing at them. As if each keystroke was a physical blow of some sort. I still haven't quite figured out why, but apparently I was going straight for the jugular. With such... Drive and such purpose. So fixated on going, with a total lack of thinking or observation. Like a drug. Surreal and terrible.

So as such things do, the conversation ended in an anti-climactic and emotionally-charged implosion.

And in the sleepless hours that followed, I immediately knew what I had done and that the damage had been made. But like I said - no excuses. None.

Back to sitting alone in the studio, in front of my laptop. Whisps of fresh snow were swimming around outside in the dark, and the temperature was right around Far Colder Than It Ever Should Be, Ever. How appropriate. I decided that I needed to do something, and I needed to put out the flames before the bridge was burned. The problem was that I had had waited too long and my pyrotechnics were far too thorough in the first place - the fires had long ago run their course, and all that was left at this point was embers and smoking remains.

And then I got what I deserved. After a couple of precise, unexpected (though they shouldn't have been), and rapid jabs, and before I figured out that I was the source of the damp red liquid that was starting to leak out from under my shirt, came the uppercut.

"To say it hurts is to say Nothing."

Now, there's a good sort of context that surrounds this kind of thing. Context that gives it a million times more weight than eight words, two capital letters and a period have any right to. And stuff like that I keep for a physical journal that I hide away in the corner of my room. So why even bother posting this at all, you ask? Perhaps so that my readership of one can appreciate it (mind you, on some occasions that figure has been known to temporarily double). Really, though, this is a way for me for sort it out in my brain, to inhale and keep it in and internalize it before I blow it out to the world. No one will read it, sure, but that's not what it's about. It creates the illusion that it's out of my hands, because I've tried my best to deal with it and figure it out before letting it go free to fly wherever it wants.

So no, there'll be no context or specifics. I know that this brand of insult could be interpreted one of a million ways, and only I happen to have the key that tells me which one fits. But that's for me and the person that dealt the blow.

Now, how would you respond to something like that? I mean, poetically, there's something in the way that Nothing is capitalized that makes the statement beautifully sharp, jagged, and poignant. But as far as I can tell, semantics and distractions aside, there's no elegant way to get around it and keep your hands clean. So here's your protip: Don't make enemies out of your friends. They're the ones that know how to attack your weak point for Massive Damage.

But through some twist I'm not even sure I understand, apparently there might be enough substance in the contorted, smoldering ruins of this bridge to build on again. I consider myself lucky, because I'm not so convinced that I deserve it.

So will this post bring the sweet cathartic release I've been craving, needing, for the last little while? No. Not even remotely. Something like that sticks with you. I'm not sure if there's any letting go of it, and even if you could, it'll most likely reach out grab a hold of you itself. So I've gotta deal with it. But that's the way these things go, right? And as much as I wish they would wither away and die, those stupid words I typed that one night will probably stick around and hold fast to the other person. I wish they wouldn't. I really wish they wouldn't. That notion feels worse than any Insult of the Year.
-Cril

Some things take so long
But how do I explain
When not too many people
Can see we're all the same
And because of all their tears
Their eyes can't hope to see
The beauty that surrounds them
Isn't it a pity

Isn't it a pity
Isn't is a shame
How we break each other's hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other's love
Without thinking anymore
Forgetting to give back
Isn't it a pity

George Harrison - Isn't it a Pity

To be a Crystalline

2011-11-12T23:44:00.002-07:00

Heh. It's almost midnight already. I tried to sit down at 5:30 ish to do some homework, and I started to drift off at my desk. I figured I'd lay down for a half hour, and then get back at it. Instead I went down for three hours. Now I'm going to pay for it.

So last week I didn't get to make a post, which kinda bugged me. It was a pretty nasty week, though - I had three projects come due within five or six days. One of which, a MAJOR project for a package design, really came down to the wire. I don't think I got to bed before 1AM that entire week. I've never really cut a project that close before, consistently staying up so late to get it done on time. I think there was some poor time management on my part along the way, for sure. I figured it wouldn't be a problem to spend one evening out for my cousin's birthday, and spend another evening chatting into the wee hours of the morning with someone. I'm such an idiot. No excuses, no excuses.

Yeah, 5-6 hours of sleep is still pretty decent, I guess. But I don't function that well on less than 7. I prefer 8, if I can get it. Feels like it's been a bit of a downward spiral over the last week as my sleep deficit builds up and weighs me down. One of my coworkers mentioned that I had "dead, lifeless eyes" when I went into the office this week. That's me - a dead, soul-less zombie, bound to walk the earth for the length of his temporary existence.

On a bit of a whim, I went to figure drawing on campus on Wednesday. I finished tutoring went to the top floor to sit down and sketch for a while. I really can't say when the last time was that I was overcome by such a completely encompassing wave of serenity. I mean, yeah, the drawings were garbage. But after parking on that stool, busting out a 2B and 6B and plugging in my consciousness to some music... I just drew. It was wonderful. There was nothing else. And I've never really done figure drawing outside of class assignments before, and that lack of pressure really helped me to loosen up and relax. It was marvelous. So serene. What a perfect way to unwind after a crappy week. Time permitting, I hope I can keep attending each week.

In other news, it was Remembrance Day yesterday. So as I do every year, I watched the sixth episode of Band of Brothers. It really hits a chord with me, and I feel such a tangible sense of dread and horror and sacrifice. And at this point in the semester, where I've been so focused on work and school, how I'm so narrowly fixated and so completely switched off... That one episode is like taking a sledgehammer to my brain. I so wasn't prepared for it.

I have so much homework to do. Well, homework not so much. But other odds and ends I want to accomplish. I don't know if I'll manage to get everything in. Alas, I am on the last... four or five weeks of the semester. The final push begins, and there's sooo much to get through. Lots of big projects to tackle. I wish I had more spare time to draw and play some music. But really, everyone wishes they had more spare time. Maybe, perhaps, someday, I'll get a handful of my own.
-Cril

How does it feel like
to make it happen here?
How does it feel like
to breathe with everything?
How does it feel like
to let forever be?
How does it feel like
to spend a little lifetime sitting in the gutter?

Scream a symphony

How does it feel like
to be a crystalline?
How does it feel like
to spend a little lifetime sitting in the gutter?

Scream a symphony

Chemical Brothers - Let Forever Be

Re: Lucre

2011-11-02T21:32:00.002-06:00

Frick. The numbers are right.
-Cril

Booker T & the MG's - Slim Jenkins' Place

Extreme Sounds That Told Me

2011-10-30T19:05:00.008-06:00

Still in a weird head space, dammit.

You know what I love, though? When you stumble on a song that has been in your library for ages, and you discover that it totally makes a connection with where you're are mentally at that moment. When you can practically hear your own thoughts being sung back to you through someone else's voice, complete with melody and atmosphere and accompaniment... Feels like it's the definition of divine inspiration to discover that something was there, waiting for you to stumble on it, to express your state of mind better than you're able to.

So... Boy am I feeling unmotivated today. I guess I've been whining about that a lot lately, but hopefully I'll break through it this week. Well, I'll have no choice in the matter, really. I'll have two major projects coming due between the 4th and 8th, so this is a pretty important week.

I'm trying really hard to get less... Invested in school. Don't get me wrong, I still care and I still work hard. But I'm trying to distance myself from the competition and need to completely satisfy my professor. Sure, they're the ones that issue the marks and give feedback, so I really should be going by their word. But at the same time, I'm getting to the point where I need to focus on my portfolio. Marks will matter less. I think. I don't know. I'm putting in a lot of effort, and just finding that the emotional investment tied to marks is draining. I gotta concentrate on what I need to do and accomplish. It's not about grades - it's about skill.

I took a quick peek at my financial totals for 2011 so far. Turns out that I'm doing a lot better this year than I could have expected. And if it wasn't for how methodical and tedius I am with keeping records of these things, I'd be 100% convinced that there was a MAJOR error somewhere. So right now I'm only about 70% certain that there's something wrong with my data. In a way, I guess it makes sense that I'd be doing this well - all this year I've been working part time at both ye normal employment and tutoring, as well as picking up the odd freelance project on the side. So, yes, I should be in pretty good shape. But not this good. I've checked over my spreadsheet twice already, eyeballing my formulas and looking for any cells that contain peculiarly large numbers. And so far I've turned up nothing. Heck, it's open on my other monitor as we speak, taunting me. "You know that I'm screwing with you. You can't possibly be in this good shape for the year. I'm hiding the problem, so you can't find it, sucker." So far, the only thing I can think to do is to individually download every bank statement to cross-check it with my data. Is it worth the time? I'm pretty convinced that what I have isn't right, but is it worth the hassle to figure it out? Just the thought that I've screwed up somewhere in this mess is enough to drive me nuts. I try to really careful with this stuff.

Gah, I just finished looking it over again. Didn't find a thing. I don't get it. I guess I'll have to compare it once I get my tax forms at the end of the year. On the plus side, though, in a moment of weakness where I was high on the fumes of untrustworthy financial statistics, I finally bought myself some headphones. I've been stuck with crappy earbuds since early spring. And because I tend to destroy those too, I bought 6 more pairs. Hopefully that'll last me a year or so. For the headphones, though, I even went ahead and got an extended warranty, so that I can switch 'em out once they inevetibly get destroyed.

Anyways. Back to das hommwerken.
-Cril

Extreme sounds that told me
They held me down every night
I didn't have much to say
I didn't give up the light
I closed my eyes and closed myself
And closed my world and never opened up to anything
That could get me at all

I had to close down everything
I had to close down my mind
Too many things have caught me
Too much could make me blind
I've seen so much in so many places
So many heartaches, so many faces
So many dirty things
You couldn't even believe

Moby - Extreme Ways

Twenty-Six Thousand Tonnes More

2011-10-23T20:49:00.004-06:00

Well, crap. I just made the mistake of having a quick 40min nap. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open at my desk while trying to get some homework done, so I crashed on the floor. Not only has this completely absorbed some work time, but it is going to come back around and bite me in two or so hours, when I decide to sleep. "Sleep?" my brain will say, "Ha ha ha! You foolish human! Your brief rest means you will not need to sleep until two hours from when you need to get back out of bed!" Argh. It happens every. Single. Time.

In other news, I've this last week I've been chatting with El Coworker some more, which has guaranteed any escape from my recent funk. So I press onwards, as my scumbag brain insists on analyzing far more than I think it was ever meant to. It's rather (mentally) exhausting, and insures me a perpetual state of uncomfortableness.

It was kinda funny, actually. On Saturday (which was yesterday, apparently) I was in the studio by myself, and my motivation lost a fight with distraction. Said uncomfortableness finally got a bit too intense, and so I decided to flee the city. Packed up, went to the car, and waded through traffic on the way to the highway. I merged, and alas, I was free! Until I reached the edge of town, that is, where there was an accident that had my spontaneous escape route backed up. So I took and exit and turned around to go back the way I came... And lo and behold, the first exit I found on my way back was what I needed to take to get to my place. So I gave up, and went home. It was more than a little discouraging, but also amusing. It's funny when you freak out and try to make a break for it, and then the universe shouts back, "SCREW YOU, HAHAHAHA!"

So I went home and finally finished Deus Ex Revolution. Good game. The ending felt a little... Anticlimactic in a way. I wasn't really happy with how some of the ending choices were handled. Still, the whole thing was fun and the story was pretty solid. I mainly relied on stealth, so I can't quite say how the gunplay was. One thing I missed from the original, though, was how you could improve practically every part of your character, from aiming stabilization to how well you swam. The aiming, in particular, really gave you a solid sense of progressing as a character. In the beginning of the game, you were stuck with crosshairs that would sway all over the place, and each time you improved your ability (that even broke down into small, medium, and heavy arm proficiency), it was immediately noticeable and wildly satisfying. Alas, I haven't played the original DE in many many years, so these may be the recollections of a ~15 year old boy that are masquerading as some sort of rational thought.

Ugh, I'm running on not nearly enough sleep. Too many late nights. Seems like I'm constantly fighting with the need to rest. And I don't know what it is about this semester, but I just can't seem to get myself out of bed on time when the alarm goes off. I usually sleep for another half-hour, before I get up and run out of the house. Once I slept in for an hour. I still don't know how I made it to class on time that day.

Bleh, I'm feeling out of it. Time to go homeworkize. And than lay down my bones into my bed and do anything but sleep.
-Cril

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too
'Twas the witch of November come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

Gordon Lightfoot - Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Regarding Recent Exposure

2011-10-16T21:06:00.005-06:00

I'm in a really weird head-space right now. I got chatting with a co-worker in the later hours of Thursday evening, when I should have been focusing on a Typography assignment. Instead we ended up discussing certain revelations until somewhere around 2AM. Just having someone to bat an idea around with for a few hours proved to be insightful, and I think I reached some interesting conclusions. In particular, I had no right to complain about what I was whining about in that post. I think it's a bit selfish and naive to assume that you're somehow entitled to such a relationship. The worlds a big place, and there's no kind of guarantee that everyone gets the kind of support they wish they had. And it's damn self-centered to assume that there'll be someone, somewhere that you can call in for backup at the drop of a hat. There are some battles, I think, that are meant to be fought and won or lost on your own. Not everyone is lucky enough to get the kind of reinforcements they wish they had at any given time, and it's naive and a folly to stake a campaign on it.

It's kinda depressing how long it took for that concept to click home. I'm not saying that we're all alone, and will be forever, and can't expect to have others there for us. But for some things, it'll just never be the case. We aren't entitled to anything, so you shouldn't be expecting it in the first place.

Over the course of the evening, though, El Coworker picked my brain for quite a while, just kinda poking at things and making interesting observations. One of which was "you think about stuff that aint supposed to be thought about". Which, quite frankly, rather amused me. I like to think that all the ramblings I post here aren't completely mundane.

Then she went on to make a few more remarks that I found rather uncomfortable, and to be honest, I don't completely understand. And I'm still trying to turn some of that stuff over in my mind's eye, examining it like it's some sort of foreign device that I just can't figure out how it's supposed to be used. I think I know what it's supposed to do, but not really how.

Uhm, yeah. It's all put me in a bit of a funk. I got home late last night from a wedding reception, and all the residual activity going on inside my head from Thursday just wouldn't let me get to sleep. So I naturally did what anyone would do under such circumstances - I busted out the kit and shaved my head. Pretty short, at least. Had there been more razors in the cabinet and/or I was blessed with a slightly less hideous scalp, I might've taken it all off. But once I finished, I went into the shower to wash off. And then I used up my borderline dull and sole remaining razor to take off the beard. And then I went to bed, and slept. Not very well, mind you - things are getting pretty cool at this time of year, and my cranium was left rather exposed to the lack of warmth in my dungeon suite. Still, it felt good. I wish my hair was longer, so more of it could've come off for even MORE Catharsis Points.

So until I get this whole ordeal sorted and tagged and catalogued within this wonderfully disordered (and freshly cut) head o' mine, it'll be business as usual. Perhaps with sharply increased intake and care put into my music selection. But at least I came away from it with one conclusion that I can put into practice. I suspect it'll take a few tries to get working the way I want it to, though. Implementation is always the hardest part.
-Cril

Rob Dougan - Clubbed to Death 2

Thanks.

2011-10-10T23:13:00.003-06:00

Ok, it's getting late, and I probably still have another hour's work of homework I need to finish for tomorrow. But it is Thanksgiving (for the next 47 minutes, at least), so I figure I should throw some thoughts out there. Despite my rather pessimistic outlook on things, there are a lot of things to be thankful for:

-Goin' to a decent school. Yeah, I complain about it a lot. I miss having free time. But I'm really glad to have the opportunity to spend four years of my life studying a profession I enjoy. And maybe I've just fallen prey to its own propaganda, but I really feel confident that this particular school is something special. I think I'm lucky to have ended up where I am.

-Having solid, decent-paying part-time work. Work that allows me to clock in at odd hours, do things I enjoy with intelligent coworkers. Employment that pays me more than I think I actually deserve, and helps me keep my (financial) head above the water during the school year.

-Living in a pretty great country. Sure Canada has got its fair share of problems, but compared with a lot of places, it's really a nice place to be. I mean, the long winters suck for sure, but all things considered, I think it's something that I really take for granted how blessed I am to live where I am.

-The (few) close friends I have. I don't spend as much time with them as I should, but the unquestioning support and patience and engaging conversation goes a really long way amongst a world of brief, passing relationships.

-Having some really kind/considerate family in the city. Similar to above, but they feed me, like, a lot of food and come to my rescue when my car craps out. Which tends to happen with alarming frequency.

-Music. My word, where would I be without it. My emotional and spiritual and mental crutch. It's there when I need it, and there always seems to be a particular song waiting for me to stumble upon that will fix the world as if it's a custom-designed tool to fit this one single job. I just can't fathom not having it on hand. I don't know what I'd do with myself.

-Cars. My car. Driving. Well, okay, I'm in an abusive relationship with my car - so that feeling tends to come and go. But it's unbelievable how much wonder and excitement I get from automobiles. Reading about them, watching them... Yeah, I'm mechanically inept and probably don't actually understand much of what's going on. But it doesn't stop that flame of boyish wonder from lighting up my day. Makes me feel alive. To know that, yeah, there's something special out there. And I love driving so much. With the costs associated with it, it can be a bit of a guilty pleasure. But what a pleasure. The air is starting to get chilly and the leaves are changing to strange hues before collecting in the gutters - winter is definitely around the corner. And with that comes the need for wearing big boots and thick gloves. And this knowledge, dawning on me over the past two weeks, has really made me realize how much I enjoy driving. Feeling the grooves in the steering wheel rhythmically run over your fingers as the wheels straighten out, and the H pattern on the shifter knob that lays under your palm. The spring of the gas pedal underneath my foot, sensing the engine's revolutions vibrate through every surface, and every bump in the road that travels up through the suspension... My word. All of that at once, on an open road with a full tank of gas and some music coming through the speakers... It's a sensory overload that's the very definition of bliss.

So, yeah. I'm thankful. And now I'm thankful and running behind on my assignment. Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.
-Cril

The London Symphony Orchestra - Life on Mars

Missing Connection

2011-10-09T23:14:00.003-06:00

You know what? It kinda sucks not having a go-to wingman on hand. I wanted a hand with something the other day, something kinda personal and peculiar in my own way. And the thought occurred to me... I don't really have anyone in my class that I could trust with this. Or in the whole school, for that matter.

Well, it's not really an issue of trust. I know a handful of really good people in my class. I enjoy working with them, and we get along really well, and have a great time together as we wade through our four years of education. It's just that none of them... get me.

Wow. What a pretentious, angsty, teenager thing to say. But it's still true.

Outside of schoolwork, there's not much of a connection. And I know that if I were to go to one of these people with my strange little idea, they'd do their best to help me out. I don't doubt that at all. But none of them would understand said strange little idea. They'd give me funny looks and humour me the whole way through.

And that's what kinda unnerves me a bit. I have no one in my physical everyday life that I really see eye-to-eye with. And not on terms of politics or religion or whatever - that stuff shouldn't really matter. But in terms of personality. I guess what I'm getting at is... I don't know any decent introverts, dammit. And two introverts together is like a grand ol' vertex of introvertedness that's so incredibly satisfying in a way that I don't even have words for.

Who knows. Perhaps these are wildly unrealistic expectations, and it's next to impossible to find someone that I can interact with in precisely the way I'm imagining. But I can think of one or two people that if they were right there, yeah, I think I'd do alright to bounce a lil' bit of my crazy off of them. Even if they didn't totally understand why, they could somehow relate to it and trust me on the whole thing.

Bleh, look at me rambling on and not really saying anything. My point is... I know some good people at school/work, and enjoy spending time with them. But I don't have anyone I see in day-to-day life that I'd feel comfortable automatically leaning on. It kinda sucks, and I've found this whole epiphany to be more than a little unnerving.

Also, this is my 300th post and I have absolutely nothing interesting to say.
-Cril

Ludovico Einaudi - I Colori Caldi Della Terra

Trying to Call Somebody Else

2011-10-02T21:04:00.002-06:00

I'm pretty sure that when you permanently delete/remove your Facebook account, they still retain some of your old data on hand. Looking at the recommendations for 'Friends', there are at least two people from, we'll call it, the "Old Life". People from a different province altogether that I haven't really seen face-to-face in years. And somehow, Facebook magically thinks that based on my profile I might just happen to know them. Sure. Riiiight. There is nothing, absolutely nothing in either my profile information or current contacts that could possibly link me back so precisely to those people that I once upon a time had in my Friends list, before I destroyed the account with what I supposed was the digital equivalent of fire and brimstone. I have no way to prove the theory that they actually kept information from my old account on hand, of course. Maybe it's based on my email address, and those people have tried looking for me, and Facebook has kept that search on hand for when said account was claimed.

Either way, it still creeps me out and wish I wasn't on there at all. I don't trust Facebook at all. And I mean, yeah, Google has waaay more of my information and I'm less worried about them. They seem less scummy, you know? I could be wrong. In fact, I'm sure that Google has some less-than-reputable projects going on behind closed doors. Times like this, I wish I could just delete myself from the internet and move on. I don't like the idea of anyone keeping tabs on me like that.

I actually went through and parsed a half-dozen contacts from my Facebook contact list, after the person that made my account sent requests out to a bunch of people I don't know. Looking at my current list, sure I know most of them. But are they my friends? No. Not at all. And I want to destroy all those inaccurate connotations that they are. But alas, this is a professional networking tool, not for socializing. I'll leave 'em be. For now. But just the fact that it says "Friends (48)" makes me cringe. There is no way in hell that number should be so high. It just... Rubs me the wrong way. Like sandpaper on my cerebellum. It just ain't right.

And, of course, to prevent further people from finding me, I'm refusing to actually edit/fill in any of the profile info. As far as it's concerned, I went to a highschool I never set foot in, have a birthday three and a half months before I was born, and I'm currently attending a school on the other side of the country. And I've figured out the privacy settings (supposedly), so I even have all this information set to friends-only. And it's going to stay that way.

Some days I feel like such a grumpy old man of a hermit. Kids these days. Hrmph.
-Cril

Just seven numbers
Can straighten out my life
But my pride won't let me phone

Four Tops - Just Seven Numbers (Can Straighten Out My Life)

No Reckognition in Their Eyes

2011-09-25T22:13:00.002-06:00

Hrm... I have no idea what to say for myself tonight. I've been slacking a bit over the last week, having a hard time focusing and working. I gotta get my game in gear. This week has been a gong-show of appointments and scheduling, and with some nasty assignments coming up, it would've been nice to know when and where I should be. Bleh. This week will be better right?

Unfortunately for me, last week's Porsche adventure has started to fade depressingly fast into one long blur of surreal sensations. Not so much exact details as feelings. I guess it was such an intense experience that I was crushed under a sense of wonder and thrill, blocking out room for specific bits of information. It'll still put a smile on my face, for sure, but it's kinda sad how fast it's turned into a giant smudge against the wall of my memory. I'm really glad I wrote that last post so soon after it happened, though. Something tells me that I'll be flipping back to re-read it on a semi-regular basis.

Someone from my class finally got sick of me not being on Facebook, and created an account for me. He then proceeded to add some friends for me... And before I knew it, I had accumulated just shy of 50 new contacts, without sending out a single request myself. Most of the people are mere acquaintances, and some of which I don't even know at all. Why did they accept the request in the first place? 'Tis one of the mysteries of Facebook, I suppose. Being the way I am, 'Friend' is a term I don't throw around lightly. And, if it were to stay accurate to my interpretation of the word, I'd probably have less than 10 contacts. But it's not. I just need to accept Facebook for what it is: a networking tool. As is, I don't really log in unless I get an email notification that says someone's directly interacting with me. We'll see. I'm still not too excited by the privacy shinanigans, but I figure there's nothing to be worried about if there's nothing there in the first place. Right now I'm rockin' a bare-bones profile. And, thanks to the friend who set up my account, for some reason I graduated from a highschool I never attended and am currently attending a school on the other side of the country. I'm not feeling inclined to fix it. Yet, anyways. One thing I gotta say, though, is that Facebook has a really... Not very intuitive interface. Maybe I'm getting too old for this kinda stuff or something, but it takes me an unusually long time to find the most basic options/features. Gotta say, I'm much more impressed with Google Plus so far.

What else... I totally fluked out on my first Typography assignment. My critique went pretty well. Truth be told, I had been fighting with it all week long, until I kinda just gave up and ran with the front-runner. I feel lucky - it may have well as been someone else who made it. You know, that kind of a situation where you know it wasn't your knowledge or skill that got you through, just a matter of the Assignment Gods choosing to smile down on you, in their infinite whimsy.

If you were to click through on that image, you'd see the description/rationale that I presented with the piece in class. The other meaning to it, though, was to reflect how I was feeling. I felt like I didn't know what I was doing, and I was getting frustrated. Venting that into the final piece felt really good, even if I was the only person to know it.

Anyways, I'm going to go to bed. I've been feeling pretty exhausted all week, and if I have any hope of surviving the next round of classes I'll need whatever I can get.
-Cril

Sometimes there’s a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the seven bridges road

The Eagles - Seven Bridges Road

Sound of Speed

2011-09-18T12:16:00.001-06:00

I'm usually listening to some sort of music while I pound out these posts. But I have a problem: I heard a song live, and it's stuck in my head. And it's not like I can't find a recording of it. But with such things, it's impossible to recreate that feeling and experience of being there.

You see, I just went for a ride in a Porsche 911 GT3.

And to be honest, I'm having a hard enough time trying to make my thoughts coherent within my own head, let alone finding a way to express them using something so clumsy as words. All I know is that I'm wearing a massive smile that I can't seem to shake.

Let's rewind for a second. My love of Porsches spawned with Need for Speed: Porsche Unleashed, way back in 2000. I'm not even sure if I thought it was that big of a deal at the time. Unlike most young boys, I kinda skipped the sports car faze. Maybe it was because I grew up in small towns where such sights were rare. But either way, that old, pixelated game planted a seed, and I promptly forgot about exotic cars for the next 6-7 years. And later I picked up playing other Need for Speed titles again, which was fun, sure. But I really got the bug when I started watching Top Gear, and now as a 20-something year old man, I'm enamoured by cars. I can't shake it. I've successfully transitioned from following video game news like a hawk, to being completely obsessed with the auto industry.

And for some reason or another, that seed planted 11 years ago has sprouted and bloomed into a total love for all things Porsche. Not the outrageous Lamborghini or the refined Aston Martin or the classic Ferrari. I appreciate the sight and sound of them, sure, but it's only the news of Stuttgart's finest that I'll click first above all else when it appears in my news feeds. I crave Porsche. I even have a keychain with the crest, which is horribly mismatched to the Acura key it's bound to. It's almost insulting.

And yet, I've never really been in a Porsche. I've peered at them closely in parking lots and inspected them from behind the velvet ropes at auto shows. To my credit, I tried to get in one once. It was a 996 Boxter at some used auto lot, that had the roof down. I figured that if that wasn't an invitation to get in and sit down, nothing else would be. Turns out the car had an alarm. The salesman at the lot looked at me, rolled his eyes, and told me to screw off while he went inside to find the keys that disable the blaring sounds. What happens once inside a Porsche forever eluded me as a mystery.

So when I moved this last spring, and discovered that an authentic Porsche enthusiast lived in my neighborhood, it kinda blew my mind. He has a well-stocked garage, and some of his friends will come over to hang out and work on their own examples of Germany's finest. And it's such a treat, because every other time I come home from a long day at work or school, I'm often greeted by the beautiful site of a Porsche in my neighbour's driveway. Sometimes two. Of different models. From different years. A 911 Turbo. A GT3 RS4. A 996, a 997, a 964, a 993... It's absolutely wonderful. And it all happens within a few minute's walk from what I call home base. It blows my mind how lucky I was to move here, when I didn't have the faintest idea what gem of opportunity would be lurking nearby. The very definition of serendipity, my friends.

So it took me the entire summer to work up the courage to actually speak with the guy, after figuring out how to best compose myself to not look like awkward and obsessive. But a month ago on one Saturday morning, instead of turning the ignition in my car to drive to work I opened the door, got back out, and strolled down the street to talk with him as he was washing his car in the driveway. Turns out that he's a super fantastic guy. Really friendly, and was glad to show me his GT3 and tell me about it. Told me about the modifications and how he took it out to the track as often as he could. I drank it all up.

And this morning, not even two hours ago, he took me for a 20min ride.

There are no words.

I'd want to say something like 'sublime', but even that feels grossly insufficient. What I immediately noticed was how low the car was, and how foreign (yet satisfying) it felt to lift up the door handle from such an angle. Then I got in and sat down. The seat swallowed me whole - and not like an overly padded Ikea chair. It gripped me. The headrest made sure I was sitting up straight and paying attention. Almost as if saying "Keep your eyes forward - you won't want to miss this." And then we pulled out of the driveway and headed to the highway. I noticed how stiff the suspension was, and how it communicated so eloquently every crack and bump in the road. I loved it. Some would call it uncomfortable, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Then it came time to merge, where we promptly got held up behind a minivan puttering along, almost oblivious to the fact that they should be speeding up to match the 100kp/h flow of traffic. A bit of an anti-climatic start, but when we pulled out to pass all that frustration was swept away.

100kph in second gear. Second gear. The time in which we reached it was over woefully quick, but it was like someone dumped a bucket of water on me. The first thing I noticed was the wrestling match between my back and the seat, as I was pushed back during those precious few seconds of incredible acceleration.

The next thing I was blown away by was the sound. Generally, in Top Gear or articles or whatever other car reviews, they mention how glorious the exhaust note is. And really, I kinda wrote it off as a fluff piece to pad the content. I mean yeah, they sounds good in those videos, but whatever. But sitting in that car as the tachometer passed the 4000RPM mark... The words fail me, again. You can see the acceleration, and you can feel it. But being able to hear it, and so richly... Being a 911, the engine is in the rear. It was like being chased, no, it was like being pushed by some inconceivable embodiment of pure fury. But what did it sound like?

Well, I can tell you that this particular GT3 was modified to use a complete Akrapovic Titanium exhaust system.

...

Damn, this is hard. It's like saying, "Yeah man, Eric Clapton played that guitar part with a Fender Stratocaster." You know what it is, and you know what it kind of sounds like. But you have no idea what it sound it makes.

It reached down into my being and it grabbed something and gave it a squeeze. You felt it. If you could inject adrenaline directly into your soul, this is what you'd feel. I'm not even going to try mashing words like 'growl', 'rumble', 'whine' and a consortium of other adjectives together, because it just won't do it justice. Suffice it to say that it was, easily, two-thirds of the joy of being in that vehicle.

There were other perks. The interior material was gorgeous, and I couldn't stop myself from running a finger up and down the stitching. The cockpit was elegant - nothing felt cluttered. Just precise and driven by purpose. The cornering was marvelous - the amount of grip was phenomenal. It was like the reverse of a hovercar, as if we were being sucked down into the road. And getting to be behind the soft curve of the headlamp (a classic and defining feature of all 911's) was so elegantly inspiring.

And at one point as we had almost returned home, I looked to the right at the side mirror, and I saw the spoiler's tip perched above the swell of the wheel arch. All that came to mind was "Damn."

I really don't know how else to summarize this. For once I don't have a sarcastic conclusion or a delicate song selection to properly express the emotion I'm trying to convey. And maybe that's why I'm still not listening to music while I finish this post. I want to hold onto that glorious aural manifestation of a naturally aspirated flat 6. I want to cherish it and never let it fade away.
-Cril

And Into the Breach

2011-09-11T23:29:00.004-06:00

Ok, so. Two things. First off, I want to try to keep posting once a week while I'm still in school. I'll probably be brief and sporadic and borderline nonsensical, but I want to keep going. Second, it has come to attention that I use this blog to complain. Like, a lot. And I want to try stepping away from that direction, so that I'm less of a whiner. "Weh weh, life is so tough for meeeee." You know what? Everyone has their demons, I'm no exception, and as a result that doesn't make any of my woes noteworthy. So I'll try and throttle that back for a time. I can't say how successful I'll be or how long it'll last, but I'll do what I can.

This is going to be one of those short posts. My weekend kinda disappeared into a cloud of regrettable time management. I got done over two and a half days what should've taken me a solid afternoon to take care of. Bleh. I really gotta clamp down and get things done. It seems like the semester is taking off where the last one left off. There's none of this "I'm waiting for things to really get started" crap. It sucks, sure, but I just need to stay focused and I'll be fine. I'm a bit apprehensive about some other odds and ends I want to maintain while I'm still in school, but what happens will happen.

Part of this mismanagement stemmed from Friday evening, where I spent a solid hour watching highlights from Whose Line Is It Anyways on YouTube. As a whole, it was time very well wasted. I haven't laughed so thoroughly in a while. Felt good.

So first week of school in review... Intro to Digital Technology has me working on some HTML and CSS. The prior I'm fairly familiar with, to the point of near-boredom, but I've known very little of CSS before taking this course. We won't be hand-coding things for long, but I've thoroughly enjoyed getting my hands dirty and coming to understand the kind of power that CSS represents. I've become fairly excited for this course. Mind you, it's quite something else to be taking my first HTML course since Info Tech waaaay back in high school. It's interesting to see how abstract and completely foreign it is to some members of my class. Others already know it, and some who haven't touched it before are able to pick it up quite naturally. It's a pretty wide spectrum of skill. Kind of a neat thing to witness, for the sake of perspective.

Other classes. Working on some sort of chart poster thing in Information Design. The assignment outline isn't very vague, the prof didn't do a much better job of explaining it, and to seal the deal, this is a new assignment and therefore there aren't any samples. I'm quite confused. I think I have a (rather absurd) direction I want to pursue, but I really don't know if I'm on target at all.

In Advertising... It's the same as where I left off last year. Doing ads. This one is for the charity group Oxfam, and I need to address one of the issues they're tackling as well as feature how this particular organization is unique/effective/awesome. It's this duality that I'm struggling with. I'm having problems coming up with an elegant solution, let alone generating a solid amount of rough ideas. The inspiration, she will not come.

And then there's Typography. I understand the assignment, I really do... I just can't get the stars to align. The project requires us to take random objects and write sentences that reflect that kind of mark making said object produces. I was hoping to make some sort of semi-coherent series, and my objects aren't producing the range of effects I'd like. Frustrating.

On a social note, I forgot my earbuds one day at school. It was... Painful. I had nothing to hide behind for the day, and was subjected to overhearing the conversations of a loud, nearby table. I have nothing against the people themselves, it was just obvious that we have very different outlooks on life. It was lots of nattering about people's social lives, and some terrible jokes, and generally lots of laughing/giggling as a gaggle of young women tend to do. Again, nothing against them... It's just not my thing, and would have rather taken my mind somewhere else for a time.

So that's it for now. I'm going to bed. I'm going to have a productive day tomorrow, dammit. I'm going to get caught up on some homework during and after class, so that I'll go to go to bed at the end of the day feeling like I made a good use of the previous 24 hours. That's the idea, at least.
-Cril

Ronald Jenkees - Stay Crunchy (YouTube version)

Mechanic Scholastic

2011-09-04T23:55:00.001-06:00

So, I started classes this Thursday with Introduction to Web Design. We're covering the absolutely riveting topic of HTML and CSS. HTML I already know a bit. I learned it way back in High School, and have used bits and pieces of it on and off. I'm actually surprised at how much I still remember. CSS, I've fooled around with a bit here and there, but never really knew what I was doing. So this first unit is a mix of deadly boring, and semi-intriguing. We're actually not spending that long on actual hand-coding (ah, the tedious glories of Notepad...), before moving on to normal application-based weberizing with the likes of Dreamweaver. I want to give Muse a try at some point, but apparently it's too new to be in the curriculum. Oh well, I'm sure the course will be a decent experience, I'm sure I'll learn some good stuff.

On Friday I had typography, for all of 30mins. Apparently my prof was out of the country, so the two similar classes were brought together, the other prof introduced the assignment, and then he disappeared too. Exciting.

The thing that struck me is that when I walked in and took a seat... It felt familiar. Too familiar. Like I never left. And that kinda scared the crap out of me. I didn't really have that suppressed energy and excitement that usually lurks under the new semester anxiety. Instead it was just a universal feeling of dread. The wonderful notion of "yup, here we go again." Well, I won't lie. There was a familiar sense of relief at being able to hunker down and focus and spend let nights in the studio alone. But the fact of the matter is, I was expecting, even hoping, to feel recharged and ready to go.

It kind of scares me, to be honest. I mean, I've burned out every semester, and this probably won't be any different. I'm just worried that it'll happen a lot sooner than later. Almost as if I already have. I was kinda banking on that beginning sense of excitement to distract me from the work, for a time. Well, the work doesn't bother me too much. I'm afraid to death of Typography, but I'll live. The thing I really don't like is the hours. A 40hr week seems so foreign to me right now. I've been doing 60-80hrs over the last two years, and it's starting to wear thin. It worries me that I'm only at the half-way point and it's really starting to feel like a joyless grind.

There's a guy near where I live who owns a new Porsche 911 GT3. It gorgeous. It makes a wonderful sound, and he's had it out all summer, working on it and tweaking it and keeping it gorgeous. I've been eying it all season, and yesterday I finally worked up the nerve to go and ask the man for a quick tour. He mentioned that he and some friends competed in the Chump Car challenge in May (a 24hrs race for cars that cost a total of $500, like the 24hrs of LeMons in the US), where they ran an old 911. Talked to him some more and he said he'd been saving for his GT3, which was bought brand-new, since he was 11. The discussion and experience was wonderful, and I had a massive grin on my face for the rest of the morning.

This is going to sound borderline creepy, considering that I'd talked to him for a total of ten minutes, but that's the kinda guy I want to be. It gives me something to shoot for, something to hope for. Some light at the end of the tunnel. I want to be there some day. I'll keep my fingers crossed that I won't be a worked-out wreck by the time it comes my way. Bide my time until it arrives. Stomach out slow days and have dreams of a flat six to help me get through the long nights.

It just feels like where I am and where I want to be are two places completely at odds with each other. And weeks like this, I just don't know how to reconcile the two. The day-to-day grind just feels too all-encompassing. Here's hoping I'll come out the other side in one piece.
-Cril

The xx - Intro

Got Me Gone

2011-08-28T20:46:00.002-06:00

So... This is it. My last non-school weekend. Mind you, next weekend will be a long one with Labour Day and whatnot, but still. It'll be tainted by having gone to classes on the Thursday and Friday beforehand. Bah, bah I say!

After much deliberation, I actually managed to do something with myself this weekend. Well, I still worked Saturday morning, and today was full of odds-and-ends style shenanigans, but Saturday afternoon... I actually fled the city. A coworker lent me a Canon 30D along with far too many lenses that were far to expensive. The only other experience I've had a proper camera is within the confines at work, primarily for shooting product. Nothing too exotic. I don't think I've even taken the lens off of the thing at all, not to mention that 90% of shooting takes place within one mode at particular settings. So I will come right out and say that when it came time to shoot in the wild, I took a cheat cheat with me. And even then, it took a while for things to really click in before I felt like I knew that I could pretend to know what I was doing.

But, like I said, I was kinda on the fence about the whole thing. Less than a week until school starts, and there are still a million things I need to do. At work particularly. I know I've worked hard this summer, and kept my head down trying to get things done... But it feels like I've been fighting distraction after distraction the along way, and I wasn't as productive as I should've been. There's so much to do. And I could've gone home and organized my room and done my laundry, and give myself a haircut, and sketch... And truth be told, I was hesitant of going on any sort of trip, because I don't trust my car. I had that pit in my stomach that told me that going out of town to cruise some of the less traveled roads was a completely stupid thing to do.

But I did it. I finished that last email I had to said, borrowed a tripod from the office, and got in the car. Set the tunes, and off I went. Where, exactly? East. I picked a semi-major road, and I followed it until it turned into a dirt trail with a generic, numerical name. Then I followed it some more, turned around, and went back to the last road that was also paved, and followed that North for a while. Then I found another road leading East again, and turned off. And I went and I went, and at some point I turned South onto a small dirt road. There was a sign warning of a chicane, and I knew I'd found something special. And I followed it until it turned into more of a dirt trail, which was much more suited for vehicles that had a bit more clearance than my Integra. But I followed it for a while, carefully straddling the ruts and listening to the flowers and plants strike the underside of the car. And finally, once I was convinced that this was indeed no longer a legitimate road, I managed to turn around (and flatten the grass and weeds that would've constituted the shoulders of this path) to head back. And I stopped, and I got out.

And what followed was a rather interesting sensation. One of complete detachment.

My cellphone, of course, had long since lost reception anyways. But getting out and looking around, there was no civilization. There were artifacts of it, of course. Lots of barbed wire fences, and along with dirt roads and old shacks constitute the main staples of prairie farm land. There were bees and weeds and grass and fields of such plant life that a city bum like me could never identify. But I was more surprised at what wasn't there. There wasn't a distinct dour of car and building and people sweat. And the rhythmic tide of road traffic was very absent. Those two things were like a slap in the face. For once I couldn't hear or smell the city. And there were artifacts of other people, like the fence posts or the ruts my car were carefully straddling, but no highway or road to watch the cars march by like a trail of ants. It was just me, squished in between two fields that used a seldom trod pathway as a poor excuse for a border. It was entirely liberating feeling of peace. Total separation from the machine of society. Such an entirely foreign sensation, that I just happened to stumble upon while traveling a well-forgotten trail to the middle of nowhere. I can't even say with a certainty that I've felt it before.

And just like some kind of crappy movie, I spotted a jet flying overhead and knew it was time to head back. And I indeed made it back just fine - it seems that, this time, my automotive fears were not necessary. Way out there, though, I would've been royally screwed if I got stuck. But I didn't. And driving with my music on and windows down while I chased the horizon was a lot of fun. I really can't get that kind of enjoyment out of video games or movies or reading. It's the kind of thing that, if I would do it more often, would probably make me a semi-balanced and happy individual. I love driving. I really, really do.

It took me all evening to sort through and prep the photos I took. I'd been shooting over the course of the entire trip, stopping here and there to snap some photos. I swear, those farm roads have spots made for photographers - small paved patches at the side of the road, big enough for two cars to comfortable park on. They're probably meant for farm equipment or field access or something remotely practical, but I found my own use for them. Overall, I had a fun time. The equipment was incredibly intimidating. Heck, I only had the courage to break out the monster wildlife/action lens once. That thing was massive. Having direct control of things like shutter and focus (I'm not quite sure if I have decent command of aperture yet) was wonderful. It reminds me of the first time I tried drawing with a tablet, compared to a mouse. How did I live without it? It changes everything.

Well, everything except my talent, that is. I had a good time, but the whole batch of photos left me underwhelmed. After all was said and done, there was nothing really noteworthy or inspiring in there. Maybe it was composition, or maybe I just need to be more proficient with the equipment. Or maybe I just plain ol' suck at photography. But considering this was just my first kick at the can with a DSLR, I don't think I should've expected anything more. I definitely want to get my own with a set of decent lenses. I'm hooked. Alas, such a notion must be tempered. These things do not come cheap, and there are more important things to be focused on.

So this is pretty much it for another summer, I guess. I feel like I was cheated out of a real summer somehow, but I have no one to blame but myself. That trip yesterday did more to recharge me than the last three or four months combined, but I still find myself a bit lacking. Seems like last summer was more enjoyable. I managed to sketch, game, and generally slack off more. In an impressive display of a total lack of self-discipline, I purchased Deus Ex Revolution last week, thinking I could play through most of it by the time I had to go back. But the time to do so hasn't presented itself, and it looks like I probably won't get to play it much, if at all, before I go back to studenting. I guess I had a few side projects on the go this summer, but... I don't know. As a whole it was a pretty unsatisfying break from school. So back to the grind with me then. Even though I'm not quite so sure I totally left the grind to begin with. But at least I found a hiding spot from it on an old and forgotten, completely unremarkable dirt road.
-Cril

You know I've heard about people like me,
But I never made the connection.
They walk one road to set them free
And find they've gone the wrong direction.

But there's no need for turning back
'Cause all roads lead to where I stand.
And I believe I’ll walk them all
No matter what I may have planned.

Don McLean - Crossroads

Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

2011-08-21T22:08:00.004-06:00

Ugh. Have you ever found yourself in a position where you ask yourself... What the hell was I thinking? You see, here I am, ten measely days from the end of my summer. I've realized that, for some reason, I thought that using my only two non-school months of the year to work 50-60hrs a week with some freelance projects on my off hours seemed like a good idea. There was this game with a jumping puzzle, where if you were on a cloud, it would slowly sink for a few seconds before disappating and you fell through. It appears that that is the fate that befell me and my summer. It just evaporated and seeped through the cracks. Here I am standing on the ground, wondering where the heck it all went.

I have some money. I could've done something with myself. Coulda gone somewhere. It's embarrassing to admit how little daylight I've experienced. Most of it is the fledging glow of the setting sun as I emerge from the office at the end of the day. It's probably safe to say that I did not get any significant exposure to summer. I somehow managed to let it passed me by under the notion that all the work would be worth it.

And I mean, sure, it was easier than the school year. 60 hours a week is, after all, just 60 hours a week. I managed to play a game or two, I've been able to (mostly) keep up on sketching once a day for July and August, I played my instrument, went out for the odd meal with friends/family... I just can't believe how little free time I've had, though. I mean, that totally seems to contradict the previous statement, but I seemed to have wasted my time on many small things I had to get done. And now the summer has been squandered. But still... 60hrs a week could've been 40hrs a week. I could've used some of my vacation days, like normal people tend to do, rather than stockpiling them to cash in like a burnt out gambler at the end of the day. A pathetic consolation prize for managing to skip over the most coveted season of the year.

So what now? I do, after all, have a week and a half left to do something, anything, with myself. Alas, 'tis too late. There's too much to do, too much responsibility I have to be responsible about. I honestly entertained the idea of working 8hr days for the rest of the summer, and I immediately found the notion to be a rather stupid musing. There's simply too large a pile of crap to burn through, if I want to go back to school with most things in a manageable position.

All these musings are almost certainly a manifestation of my nervousness for the upcoming year. Will I be able to hack it? Can I find the time to do everything I need to? I'll be studying on some of the more senior professors with higher standards... Am I ready to take the unavoidable hit to my grades? The second year was supposed to be the hardest of the program. What if this one isn't any different? What if it's worse? That's what I'm coming to expect from it.

But there's always next Saturday, right? That's kinda what I'm banking my hopes for a peaceful sanity on, but I wish the day wouldn't come at all. Just leave it as something I can continually look forward to. The perpetual someday. Anything beyond the end of my education is too far out of sight. Keep the carrot near and palpable, but unknowingly unobtainable.

So. Saturday. Will it be a victim of last-minute organization? More odd jobs, so that I can satisfy my need to be physically, rather than mentally, prepared? Or perhaps I'll borrow the DSLR from work, and get in my car, pick a direction and just go. If only I could trust the car, and if only I was proficient enough with the camera. If only.
-Cril

We almost forgot how lovely a summer can be
Without any worries or rain
How lovely a summer here can be
We almost forgot how warm a meadow can be
Open your eyes and open your windows
And see how lovely a summer here can be

I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
Give me a kiss
Give me a kiss
Give me a kiss, quickly, before the last bus

Scala & Kolacny Brothers - Ik Hou Van U

Wind Down/Up

2011-08-17T21:15:00.003-06:00

Another obligated blog post. I'm getting so stressed on the run up to school. There's so much I need to get done, and I was (foolishly) hoping that I could spend the last two weeks before school trying to calm the nerves. Part of it is the fault of my relatives (Uncle/Aunt/Cousins) that came into town. I've spent ALL of the last four evenings with them. Which, really, was rather nice. We spent some good time together. I managed to simultaneously wrestle and beat up all my cousins from that side of the family at once. And my uncle treated me to my first straight-razor shave (MANCHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED), and we went out for a good brunch, and had some birthday cake, and watched a neat documentary on re-creating the WWII dam busters attack.

The problem was that I was expecting them in late Sunday before leaving mid Monday, and was kinda banking on Sat/Mon/Tue evening to get stuff done. Blog, email, a few freelance projects, renew insurance, etc etc. But these evenings evaporated in a rather unproductive, yet still pleasant manner. Bah. I don't feel bad for spending time with them, it's just a tad frusterating how the precious few drops of summer seem to be seeping through the cracks.

Anyways, there's lots to do with lots of responsibilities. Which is kinda good that I finally got a dataphone with a plan. I can be in touch and connected where ever I go. I've texted more in the past week than I have in the past three years. Most favorably, I think I like having the ability to get directions from wherever I'm at to whever it is I need to go. Quite handy. It eats the battery like crazy, but it's a fair trade off. And I have a USB adapter/cable in my car for recharging the contraption anyways.

I'm not quite sold on the smartphone, though. Particularly, I'm not sure about being connected all the time and being expected to be reachable 24/7. It's kinda nice to spend time in communication limbo, you know? Whatever.

To completely switch tracks, isn't it interesting when an expected opinion is finally blurted out? It's one of those things where you have absolutely no proof of it, but you completely know what people think/talk about you when you aren't around. And in a moment of fatigue, it comes out when you're around. And really, it isn't even viscous or hurtful or meant in any kind of malicious way. Just a bit of a playful jab. Something you'd been expecting for a loooooong time, and can't fault any party for letting it slip. And it comes, and it's not a big deal, and you part ways, and it still isn't a big deal. And you're driving somewhere and pondering how it really isn't any big deal. And you realize you can't quite shake thinking/analyzing this thing that definitely isn't a big deal at all. But the sheer fact that it simply won't go away is proof enough that there's something there that still needs to be digested, and even then it'll still almost certainly come back up again shortly. One of those cases where your rational and emotional selves are at odds with each other. Kind of intriguing from a spectator's point of view. You know that there's just enough of something there to cast some reasonable doubt and mental discomfort. This isn't a social problem... It's an introspective one.
-Cril

Daft Punk - Derezzed

On Such a Timeless Flight

2011-08-10T20:39:00.002-06:00

It wasn't until Monday afternoon that I realized I totally neglected to make a post. Completely slipped my mind. I even remember Sunday afternoon/evening. I'd made my lunch for Monday, finished tidying my room and got caught up on some emails. And I thought to myself, "what else is there to do tonight?" And I came up with nothing, so I spent the last few hours of the weekend sketching while I had the Pirates of the Caribbean up on the other monitor. I just finished re-watching the first three films. And despite what the critics seemed to say... I really enjoy the series. I love the strange and twisted folklore, especially. The first half of Dead Man's Chest was pretty terrible, though. It's like the director had schizophrenic fits where he thought what the film really needed was some crappy slap-stick so it could appeal to the kiddies. Never mind the fact that the rest of it was incredibly dark. Still, all things considered, it's a fun and engaging series.

Where was I? Right - drawing and watching movies instead of doing some writing. It's odd, because 90% of the time I always post on a Sunday evening. But I didn't - it completely slipped my mind. Maybe I'm going senile.

Last week I went out with a coworker for lunch. He's a fairly old guy, 70-something, I think. Anyways, he loaned me a massive book on some WWII fighter aircraft, and eventually told me to keep it. For payment, he requested I pay for a lunch. And for the $17 it took to buy both of us some good eats from a rather tasty chicken and fries joint, I think I came out on top. But anyways, the to-and-from was the most interesting bit. The man has clearly lead a full life and done many more interesting things than I probably will. And between some of the stories, he passed on some advice. Which, quite frankly, I welcome - I'll take whatever tips I can get. I'm still a stupid young man, but hopefully enough of these little tidbits of wisdom will add up to something else.

On this particular occassion, I learned that the secret to a successful relationship was Communication‹communication‹communication‹sex‹money. In that order. It sounds like solid advice, and hopefully some day I'll have a use for it. The other thing he talked about made the largest impact and happened to be the most cliche statement that we've all seen thrown around: Stop and smell the roses.

Our lunch trip happened in two, rather logical steps - going there, and coming back. Most of the first and half of the last pretty much covered my coworker's interests, and more importantly, experiences. He's been around and seen a lot, and this setup really helped drive home that effective nugget of cliche advice. He's practically three times older than I am, and so as we bounced along in his Mazda 4x4 wagon back to the office, it was pretty clear that he knew he was getting near to the end of a different kind of road. So when he told me of the things he'd done and the things he had come to regret and then told me that his number one recommendation is to slow down and make life worth living... It kinda drove home much quicker and farther than the previous 734 times I'd heard that over-used saying.

See, I'm not a botanist or even a gardener at all. Heck, I don't like getting my hands dirty, and I'm not particularly fond of fresh produce either. Needless to say, I have very little use for the aroma emitted by plants. I can appreciate the aesthetics, to a degree, but the smell does not interest me. So when the "stop and smell the roses" phrase comes along, and tend to stop and roll my eyes.

But the man was right. He mentioned how money isn't as important as it's made out to be, and it's not worth working your life away for a little bit of financial security. I see the point, I really do. But I'm not sure if, at this point, I can tear myself away from the driving need to work, work, work and save whatever I can along the way. The thing is... What roses am I missing out on? And, of more concern, I'm starting to become worried that, never mind the flowers, I won't be able to stop at all. Where does it end? I like to keep to telling myself that once I'm done with school, I'm going to go places and do things, dammit. Buying a decent car seems to be the poison of choice for creating some sort of light to look forward to. But really, once I graduate, am I really going to step back from my penny-pinching frenzy? I can see it now. "I'll get the car next year. I just want to have x amount left over in the bank account". And then I'll wait one more year, and I'll put off that one trip, and I'll avoid buying that instrument I wanted to learn. Where does it stop? Will the rest of my life be spent on a $50 monthly entertainment budget? It's what I know, it's what I've trained myself to crave.

And in the mean time, I'll keep working long days and coming home late. I'll stumble straight through the door and in to bed, and won't even notice the roses that'll be obscured by the darkness of the night. Damn roses.

I don't know. I worry that I 'm even turning my recreational/"fun" activities into one more item on my to-do list. The first part of this entry highlights it exactly. I don't need to write. I won't be punished for it, I won't miss out on anything. But here I am, pounding at the keyboard with some sense of obligation. Sure, I still find it enjoyable and cathartic... But still. I should probably sketch. I should probably play and instrument. I should probably do some photography. I should probably _______. Before long, they'll be on the same level as checking the bills and taking the car in for an oil change.

There's the story in Luke 10, where Christ was spending an evening in a house with Mary and Martha. Martha was doing house work, and Mary was speaking with/listening to Jesus. Martha asked him to get Mary to help out, and instead he chastised Martha. “Martha, Martha. Thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her”.

I think I may be stuck in some kinda state of perpetual Martha-tude. I keep making busy work for myself, even when there's something amazing and more worthwhile in the next room. And maybe I'm working on changing that special room into something more... Ordinary. And at the end of the day, what will I be left with? A clean house. But an empty house, too.

You can probably chalk a good chunk of these ramblings up to pre-school jitters, if you'd like. But I think that, unfortunately, there may be some sort truth to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get some sketching done.
-Cril

Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don’t understand
It’s just my job five days a week
A rocket man
A rocket man

And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no
I’m a rocket man
Rocket man
Burning out his fuse up here alone

And I think it’s gonna be a long long time...

Elton John - Rocket Man

It's Just a Policy

2011-07-29T22:08:00.002-06:00

So, something happened today and broke up a rather tedious couple of weeks. It really kinda drove home that whoa, I think I'm growing up. Becoming some kinda adult-type figure. That there may be some light at the end of the tunnel, and that things can and will improve. Where did this startling moment of epiphany? Was it the realization that I've changed residences almost half a dozen times? That I'm more than half-way through my schooling? That I've logged more than five years at my current job, or that I'm generally independent? Or perhaps that, just maybe, I should expand my cookware to include more than a single medium pot and a large frying pan? None of these things, actually. Instead, I got my auto insurance in the mail.

Which, when you think about it, is just one more mundane set of paperwork that you need to file somewhere (in the glove compartment). In this case, though, I renewed my plan for the year. And it is now costing me approximately half of what it was last year. You see, for some reason or another, the insurance company has decided that, when behind a wheel, I am no longer a menace to society who is seeking to run over everyone/thing with my four wheels. It must be some combination of my age, driving record, when I got my license, how long I've been insured, this year's average rainfall of the Amazon rainforest and the general alignment of the planets that has determined the change to my policy.

You see, it seems as though I've somehow tricked someone into thinking I'm responsible. Whether on purpose or not, I really don't know. When I called to have my address changed, they mentioned off-hand that my policy renewal was coming up and I'd see a discount on my rate. I figured, in true banking/insurance fashion, it'd be a whopping 5% a year, saving me an incredible $20. Instead, I got more (or much much less, depending on how you think about it) than I bargained for. I could've shrugged off 5%, and I could've kept doing so for the next ten years. But to have such a big discount, all at once, really means something has happened. I've crossed some sort of threshold into the world of established adults who don't pay exorbitant rates to keep a crappy old rust bucket on the road.

Sure, I always believed this type of fabled person existed. You hear about it all the time, like some kind of myth, how your parents and grandparents that pay $80 each month to insure EVERYTHING under the sun. Something like that feels an entire generation away, so when it sneaks up and unexpectedly smacks you upside the head, you're way more surprised than you should be. I don't have a mortgage or a family or twenty years of seniority or an interest in politics, and so it seems that I'm not qualified for anything like this. How peculiar.

Of course, the sheer fact of the new rate sent me over the moon. I was this close to considering selling off my car this summer. And I had already made up my mind that I'd keep it, but it was a very guilt-heavy decision to make. It really sucked a lot of joy out of being a car owner to think "I don't need this. I could be saving so much without it..." And yeah, I could still be saving a big chunk if I got rid of it. But the new rates, in my mind, provides a level of justification and comfort for avoiding the life of consuming public transit. It feels like I can and I should drive my car EVERYWHERE. Mind you, for that I'd need it to be reliable enough to do so. But still, all that money I'm saving? It'll help pay for repairs. Emphasis on help. The funny bit is that I'm sure my car will still need a lot of premium TLC.

But that's alright, because the new rates give me hope for the future. Hope that, some day, if I buy a decent car I'll be able to afford to put it on the road. I mean, if $130 will only put my junk bucket on the road for 30 days, how much would it cost for something that wasn't made before the release of Windows 98? Oh, the possibilities...

Either way, whenever I peek out of my bedroom window and see the side profile of the goofy, green lil' Acura... It excites me. Every single time I find myself asking, "Why aren't I driving that right now? I should be." Even with those unflattering rust patches in the quarter panels, and the creaks and the fading break discs. It's pathetic, really, but I can't help myself. And the next time I get in it, and the time after that, I'll be able to start the ignition with a decreased load of guilt on my shoulder. Assuming it starts at all, of course.

The thing that really made an impact was the fact that this premium change happened at all. It means something. I'm becoming more responsible and mature, a proper member of adult society. And so what am I going to do with myself? I'm going to call up my insurance agents and make sure that the statement is correct. And if it is, I'll be beefing up my plan and adding some other coverage. It's probably the responsible thing to do, you know.
-Cril

Throwing stones at the sky
When they fall back to earth
As minor chords of major works
Separate rooms of single life
We are one
We are alive

Death Cab for Cutie - Codes and Keys

Fritterin' Away

2011-07-24T22:09:00.006-06:00

What a week. I spent a fair portion of it outside my comfort zone. Well, much more than usual at least. There were mainly two things, the second being having to speak in church today.

It was... Interesting. It's really neat to sit there and watch your system get all worked up. Before I spoke, I was amused at the constant increase of anxiety. I knew it would be fine. Even if I messed up, no one would probably really even care, right? I don't know a lot of people there particularly well in the first place, so there was no risk of tarnishing my non-existent image. Regardless, I sat there and noticed my heart rate increasing, the faint dew of sweat forming on my brow, and my mouth becoming progressively drier. I did some breathing exercises to slow things down, which temporarily helped, but not quite to the extent I was hoping for. It was kind of like watching a freight train come in your direction at 2km/h. You can push back all you want, it'll probably make you feel like you're at least doing something, but the train won't care and still plow you over. It's a case of your body being completely disconnected from your concious mind - I could rationalize all I wanted about how nothing was really on the line and it'd be fine, but it didn't do the least bit of good. It's frusterating when you don't have command of your body like that. Anyways, I finally got up to give my talk, and it was alright, I think. Apparently I sped up quickly at the beginning before I relaxed for the rest. Got a couple compliments at the end, so that probably counts for something.

The other thing I did this week out of my comfort zone was more of a psychological battle, I think. Leading up to and during it... I don't know how to describe it. I can't compare it to being physically nervous like I was for the talk, because... None of those symptoms were there. It was the exact opposite. It felt like my brain was turning to mush, but my body just smiiiiiled and kept on goin'. The whole thing was something I kinda told myself a long time ago that I'd never do again. And I'd held that part up remarkably well. Until Wednesday, of course. And with it came the inevitable stream of thought patterns and ideas that I had successfully stashed out of sight for some time. It was like... The framework for my wind was being rattled. I felt a bit more... Not shaken up or unbalanced, just... Unsturdy. I wasn't sure of my footing, I guess. But I plowed through it. Didn't go as poorly as I expected, but the aftermath has left me sorting through some baggage. Trying to figure out what to leave out and what to put back away.

So I kinda needed to get out for a bit this evening. I had to walk it all off. It's nice to pound the world under your feet, instead of the other way around. It didn't really come with any closure or startling revelations... It was just something that had to be done.

I went home a few weeks ago to celebrate my parent's anniversary. I forgot my backpack there, and so it was shipped out to me, and some of my old shirts were included as packing material. I wasn't thinking about it, and threw one on to bum around the house in. It smells like home wherever I go. Hm.

And that's all I got, really. I feel like I'm in the middle of tidying something up, and feeling a bit far away and uninvolved. Not a heavy or oppressive notion... Just one of curious detachment.
-Cril

Well either you're closing your eyes to a situation you do now wish to acknowledge
Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster
Indicated by the presence of a pool table in your community
Well you got trouble, my friend,
Right here, I say, trouble right here in River City.
Why sure I'm a billiard player, certainly mighty proud I say I'm always mighty proud to say it
I consider that the hours I spend with a cue in my hand are golden.
Help you cultivate horse sense
And a cool head
And a keen eye
Did you ever take and try to give an iron clad leave to yourself from a three-rail billiard shot?
But just as I say,
It takes judgement, brains, and maturity to score in a balk-line game,
I say that any boob
Can take and shove a ball in a pocket

Robert Preston - Ya Got Trouble

One of these things just doesn't belong

2011-07-17T22:50:00.006-06:00

So, I had an... Interesting social experience last night. I was invited to a friend's place for a bit of a housewarming BBQ. I arrived, set up a bit, people arrived, left to repark my car so it wasn't in front of a hydrant, helped with frying some burgers, etc. Pretty good start to the evening. A few people started drinking with dinner. I don't do da booze, myself, but whatever. Then we finished eating... and people kept drinking. And drinking. A few joints got passed around. People did shots. More drinking. I knew there would be some BBQ dinner... What I didn't know was that it was an excuse to gather and get hammered. The red flags should've been that girl that arrived with a bottle of gin that she continually drank from all evening.

It was quite interesting, actually. I'll admit that I've never been around people in the process of getting thoroughly smashed. Some people got bold and annoying, some got silly, and others spouted that wonderful brand of uninformed personal philosophy. Some people got pretty touchey-feely, and there were many man hugs to be seen. Quite amusing, really.

Everyone had the same reaction when they came in and saw me - "Hey, it's CHRIS!" And, really, it's probably the first time I've seen any of them outside of campus. And they were all happy and friendly, but the message was immediately apparent: I don't usually attend this kind of shindig. And really, I wasn't even expecting to. I thought it would be a nice, relaxed barbeque, rather than a furious race to liver damage. And you know what... If I would've known, I can't say that I would've gone.

You see, it certainly is not my shindig. I mean, hey, being a pretty introverted dude means that I'm typically more of an observer at parties anyways. The fact that I didn't drink/smoke just amplified that 100 times over. It's more than just being a certain personality type - I wasn't even operating on the same mental plane as the rest of them. Heck, I don't even quite know how to socially interact with thoroughly inebriated people. Nobody said it, but everyone saw it: I'm a stick-in-the-mud extraordinaire. I sat and people-watched, and made a bit of polite chatter here and there. I mostly sat around, listened to other people, watched the sunset, and generally felt rather uncomfortable. Heck, I didn't even have much to say that wasn't work or school related. I don't understand the cultural references or recognize the music that was playing. I, simply, did not belong.

Which is kind of scary. I spend a lot of time with these people in class, and think I know them reasonably well. For the most part, they're a good bunch of people. But I don't have anything in common with them, aside from the lowest common denominator - school. I don't know if it's sad, pathetic, or a bunch of other similar metonyms. It is what it is. And what it is, is that I'm a socially boring dude.

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. People are wired differently, with totally separate priorities. And mine don't really align with any of those found at that unexpected party. Heck, it was probably understood (by everyone except myself) that by "barbeque at Mike's new place" it meant "chance to raise blood alcohol levels to a positive integer". At one point it was declared that there would be no further discussion regarding school. And immediately, I realized that I had nothing further to contribute to anything. How does this work, anyways? I can be close with and enjoy the company of these people while inside the studio, but as soon as we step off the premises I have nothing to make a connection on. We'll chalk this up to having to do with something about fish being out of water.

So, when it was decided to spend the rest of the evening (when it was already 11PM) at a local club, I concocted some sort of ruse to head home. Something having to do with commissioned pieces I had to work on, I think. The host immediately gave me a private lecture, saying with concern how he was worried for me, that I was wasting away and how college years are for having fun and making experiences, and just think about that time we'll be able to talk about when Chris got as high as a kite and went to the pub and made out with that chick. Riiiight. Let's just say that he seemed to have a different drink in his hand every time I saw him over the course of the evening. I see his point, to a degree, and his boozed musings aside, there might be something there to ponder further.

Alas, I stuck to my guns. And when they all started strolling down the block towards the club, I went in the other direction towards my parked car. A girl with whom I've only had the odd conversation at school with gave me a big hug and said it was nice to see me. There were many hand shakes all around, and overall I got the kind of attention that I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have received had they not been so thoroughly plastered.

And so I walked out of there, rolled the car windows down and truly enjoyed the drive home. A little bit of Abbey Road and that mixture of simultaneously cool and warm summer night air goes a long way. And I couldn't help but feel like, from their point of view, that I had just stepped back into the fog. So beige and so plain, so quickly forgotten. I probably won't see them for the rest of the summer, as I work and not party away the remainder of the season so rapidly drying up and withering away. I don't hold it against them, they're nice people. Not an ill thing was said or done towards me all evening. It was just... Not my thing. To quote a certain song and change the contextual adverbs, I didn't know what hell I was doing there, I didn't belong there.

It's a bit disparaging to discover one more group that I don't quite fit in with. Especially one that I've spent a huge amount of time with, and will continue to do so for the next two years. It's like there are five different puzzles with the pieces mixed together. They're all in the middle of being assembled, and I'm constantly jamming my piece in here and there, trying to be a part of some, any bigger picture. So far I've mainly found the wholes that I can't seem to match up with. But that's okay. I'm sure that there are more loose pieces like me floating around. It's just a matter time before we're spun and flipped and locked into place to create something wonderful. Or so I like to tell myself.
-Cril

PS- Achievement Unlocked - Write about a drinking party without using the word 'drunk', or using one of its synonyms more than once.

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

Brandi Carlile - Creep

FIXED.

2011-07-10T21:50:00.003-06:00

Ok, so like, I'm not mechanically minded. I have issues thinking three-dimensionally, especially when there are multiple parts that need to come together. The inner workings of an automobile may as well be black magic. Sure, if you were to give me a picture of the problem, I could probably Photoshoperize it to make it look fixed. Generally speaking, though, it takes a very small amount of time for me to feel overwhelmed when faced with a mechanical endeavor.

Lo and behold, this Saturday morning my car would not start. Turn the key, there's a single click, and then nothin'. This issue had been haunting me a bit over the last two months. Without any rhyme or reason, hot or cold, I'd get in to start the car and this would happen. Trying it 3-4 more times would usually get it to turn over. This Saturday, though, it was dead. I did some research and came to the conclusion that it was the starter. With my uncle's assistance, we confirmed it. As it turned out, it could be coaxed into working if the car was moved a small amount while in gear, so that the starter would rotate a bit. Basically, as my uncle tried to explain, there was a bad portion of the starter that wouldn't catch. So I knew the problem and knew how to get it going again in a pinch. I got a loaner car, went out, bought a new starter, and returned.

Where I promptly sat on the sidewalk for 15 minutes debating whether I should
a) Return the part, and take the car to the mechanic
b) Wait until I could scam someone into helping me with the repair
c) Do it myself

The mechanic would be pretty expensive, and I'd be out a car for a few days. I also didn't want to waste someone's time helping me out, where my incredibly ineptitude would be painfully obvious. I'd feel like a charity case. I'd do it myself, but I'm much better at breaking things than repairing them. Still, I had the entire afternoon in front of me, the parts/tools on hand, and the appropriate Hayne's manual opened to the 'Removing/Replacing the Starter Motor' section. Heck, it was even sunny and warm out. The conditions could not be ideal. So I decided to suck it up, and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? I b0rk my car and write it all off as one of them 'life experience' things I keep hearing about. Besides, it could be taken to the mechanic to undo my failed attempt at repair, right?

Well, it worked out for the best. The hardest part was finding where the thing was located, followed by screwing/unscrewing it to the engine. The cables were all plug and play. Sure, I had to look at things a few times to make sure I had put it in the same way it came out, but... It worked. There was one, really long bolt beneath the starter that I couldn't directly see that I had to put in. Truth be told, I spent a good 10 minutes trying to get it in before I realized that I had my ratchet set to loosen. Aside from that one display of blatant incompetance on my behalf, it went rather well.

I was pretty darn nervous when I first tried the ignition, though. I double checked to make sure everything was in place and plugged back in, and then I turned the key to the glorious sound of my 1.6L 4-pot chugging to life. I believe the emotion could be somewhat summarized as "elation". One part was at the fact that I went out on a limb to do something way out of my comfort zone and it worked out as planned. Another part that it was, to me, a semi-significant achievement as I try to become a decent individual who's capable of solving his own problems. The last is that, finally, a personal victory over the machine that seems oh-so-determined to make me miserable. It's the faintest glimmer of a light at the end of a tunnel. In reality, it's probably just an illusion of hope. My car will break down again, it's only a matter of time. But still.

Last summer, me and my sister went and bought a flat of 'Stewart's Soda', full of a bunch of assorted flavours. There was an orange creamsicle one, something that was cloudy green and weird and a root beer. The best of the flat, we decided, was the Vanilla Cream Soda. It tasted like you'd expect, and was pretty darn good. We were down to the last bottle of the stuff, and my sister said I could take it. And boy, did I hang onto it. As I tend to do with such things, I decided that I should save it for something special. Did well on a project? Boring. Finished the semester? Lame. Got a raise? Meh. Reached the half-way point in my schooling? Nobody cares. Made what most would consider to be a simple automotive repair? THAT YEAR-OLD SODA IS MINE. And so I drank it, and it was delicious.

It's rather pathetic how much accomplishment I get out of something so simple, but I'll take what I can get. Such an elation doesn't come along that often, so I may as well embrace it while it lasts.
-Cril

And I
I hate you for
For letting me fall for you
Just like a fool

And now I'm all psyching out, yeah
Hmm 'cause all were about
Is this ugly phone and its all I have
To look forward to, yeah

So hey, yeah
I guess its alright
Yeah, no
Now I guess it's alright
Whatever
Yeah no
Now I guess its alright
So hey, yeah
I guess its alright

Imogen Heap - Whatever

Synthesized Conciousness

2011-06-11T21:22:00.006-06:00

It's been a while, eh? I figured the end of the winter semester would herald in a new age of free time, leisure, writing, and drawing. It appears I was mistaken on all accounts.

Right now I'm feeling rather beat and run-down. I think it's the result of a few things. Moving to a new place was a bit of a hassle. On one hand, it was one of those great "I'M INDEPENDANT LOLOLOL" experiences, where I accomplished a lot on my own. It was pretty satisfying, but the stress surrounding it wasn't too fun. But I'm settled in, and I think I'm in a pretty good situation. That counts for something.

What really destroyed me, I think, was going to San Fran for a trade show. Without missing I beat, I went from full time school, to full time work plus moving, to overtime work plus part time school. I mean, yeah, 70hrs of combined school/work should be a walk in the park. That's pretty much what I was doing during the school year at least. But I think I was kinda hinging my hopes on the fact that end of full-time school = beginning of FULL TIME FUN! Well, I was expecting some sort of break, at least. Second year was way more difficult than last year (which reminds me, I need to do some sorta post-mortem), and I was expecting some down time. Instead I kept things on high, and plowed through.

The trip to San Fran was great, though. I worked pretty hard. I got a total of 15mins away from the booth during the show, and I used it to meet John Kovalic, the illustrator of Munchkin. Really cool dude. I had some good eats (have you ever had a bacon-wrapped pork chop?), got to sleep on the beach, see some neat-o electronic surplus stores, and really have an all-around good time goofing around with my co-workers. I think a highlight was eating a cheesecake imported from New York with everyone else, in a hotel lounge space, while the power cut out. All in all, the trip itself was pretty great.

I think it was the source of my ultimate demise, though. What really did me in was two things. First, it only occurred to me afterwards, but I was allergic to the bedding at the hotel where I stayed. My skin deteriorated within 24hrs, and I started to develop an infection. From there, it meant I didn't sleep well, and my waking hours (spent being rather busy) were spent in pain. It sucks when every inch of your skin feels like it's constantly being pricked with needles. The second issue was the flights. Inbetween getting to/from/through the airport and a connecting flight, we had to get up at 3:00AM both mornings, which meant I got even less sleep. I dozed off here and there on the flight, but no meaningful rest. I'm kinda bummed that I spent the flight in a semi-zombie state and missed the scenery. I love flying.

As a result, upon getting home, I was absolutely trashed. So freaking tired. Unbelievably exhausted. And my skin is still on the rebound. It feels like old, cracked leather.

This did wonders, of course, for the two courses I'm taking. I panned one exam, and did rather poorly on a paper. I remember that assignment - I hurriedly wrote it before I left, and proofed it/made final corrections once I got back because it was due the next day. No joke, I was falling asleep as I tried to finish it up. Bleh.

It's funny. I've thought a lot about having an opportunity to do a post, and I've been looking forward to it. I figured that surely all this pent up creativity and desire to do some writing would result in some sorta wonderful, coherent and flowing post. This is turning out to be a bit of a mess. Now back to your regularly-scheduled "writing".

It may be my overwhelming sense of feeling crappy and tired, but... Man, my work ethic is going all to hell. I'm having a hard time focusing and really being proactive with anything. If I didn't spend so much time procrastinating doing pointless things, I'd probably be able to do something more considerable. What little free time I've had has been going into a bit of Minecraft here and there. The odd session where I figure I'll do some house-keeping before calling it a night, then my uncle comes on and we go spelunking until it's 2AM. It's a wonderful game - the scenery and environment never seems to grow old.

So, there was one thing that happened on the trip that really stuck with me. On our last evening in the city, we went to a confection restaurant to get dessert before heading back to the hotel to pack. Ordered, sat down. I split a massive tray of ice cream with three other people. We demolished it pretty quick, and ended up sitting around and decompressing for a bit while the others finished. And I spotted an employee walking around, checking on customers, and looking for tables to clean. Ok, not so much walking around as gliding. I have no idea how old she was - I'm a terrible judge of such things - but she had this wonderful, natural blonde hair. She straddled the line somewhere between cute and downright beautiful. But there was just something about how she handled herself that really made a presence. Some sort of refined grace that didn't belong behind a messy apron, earning near-to-minimum wage. So as I sat there, I watched her go back and forth. Floating, almost. I thought to myself "Wow, she's an angel". And not in a corny, cliche love-struck way either. There was something in the way she moved and handled herself, and combined with that vibrant hair and countenance... It wasn't something I'd associate with the qualities of my lowly, mortal plane. So we wrapped up to go, and as we were leaving I heard someone behind the counter call, "Angel, could you give me a hand for a second?" Sure enough, she walks close enough to decipher the print on her name tag. Angel, indeed.
-Cril

I remember in the space and time
And I remember what we were like
All the matter was synthesized

Yeah I remember when the future died
And all the rain will keep it dark
Because of why I'm so alone

009 Sound System - Space and Time

Sucker's Luck

2011-05-09T21:49:00.003-06:00

Well this is certainly long over due. Not only has the semester ended, but I've started another. So, let's take things from the top, shall we?

The winter semester was brutal. I think I spent more total time on assignments last semester, but this one was rough. Due in large part to Typography II. It is, without a doubt, the class that I've learned the most from over the last two years. It had even less to do with typography itself than the name lends itself too. Sure, type was a big, massive part of it, but most of the theory was based on the organization of elements, and grouping, grouping, grouping. Contrast, hierarchy, utilizing white space. Learned a metric crap-ton.

But there were only two marked assignments, and the first one I (and most other students) bombed royally. It was that class after it was handed in that the prof gave the presentation where the use of grids finally clicked for me. It made sense, but that didn't translate into any kind of practical confidence. The next assignment, a short book on a typeface, kicked my ass. I have no idea how much time I poured into that thing. It had to have been at least 50hrs, and I ended up doing two or three drastic redesigns/revisions over its course. It made me instantly jealous of some of the other students who were clearly understanding it better than I was. It was just a natural fit for them, and I had to work and work to get half way to where they were after a single evening of homework. And even when it was all said and done... I still thought that it was underwhelming. But I got burnt out on it at the end, and handed it in all the same. Do what you can and let go of it, I guess.

What surprised me what the mark I got. Okay, let's step back for a second. My prof for that course is the head of the entire Bachelor of Design program, and usually only teaches fourth year courses. I've never seen someone so talented and important be so... Distracted and scatterbrained. Still, a great guy. But that's besides the point - he was a brutal marker. I understood where he was coming from, but that first assignment we got back was a real blow. And my second/final project got... A semi-decent grade. Based on my previous project, I was hoping to get a mark that was a full letter grade below what I actually received. I was pleasantly surprised.

The other notable part of the semester was Motion Graphics, which I really, thoroughly enjoyed. Like, I really truly loved it and it was, without a doubt, the highlight of my semester. It was basically a crash course in Adobe After Effects, which is used for 2D and semi-3D (aka 2.5D) animations. If you've seen any kinetic typography before, I can almost guarantee you that this program was used. It's a very powerful application, and I really appreciate the exact control you have over everything. The down side to this is that, even though I've signed up for it, Motion Graphics II may or may not run at all next year. It has something to do with not enough funding and student interest, blah blah. All I can say is that I'll be SUPER bummed out if I can't take it next year. It doesn't help that the only alternative would be to take a live action/filming course, which doesn't interest me in the slightest. Part of it could be a personality thing, as I know I have more control in Motion Graphics, and there will be less unknowns.

I'll have to do a proper post-mortem on my second year and half-way mark of my education when I have more time. I believe I can sum it all up, though, by saying "I'm half way there! Ugh, I'm half way there..." In the mean time, I started history and design theory courses today. Hooray, academic papers.

I went to the orchestra last week. Long story short, I used this particular event to do a poster design assignment around, and I sent it to the orchestra, who lined me up with two complimentary tickets for the effort. The plan was to take someone along, but the stars didn't quite align. Apparently there aren't that many people into hardcore classical music. So I went by myself. And it was incredible. The tickets placed me 5 or 6 rows from the stage. The sound was... It's like pure euphoria was being channeled directly into my ear canals. You know that string movement from that movie soundtrack you kinda like? Imagine being in that music. I don't know how else to describe it. The feeling simply can't be reproduced with speakers. Gorgeous stuff.

The morning after, I moved. It kinda made me more absent minded than I would have liked to have been for such a wonderful performance, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. But, yeah. This is me, coming to you LIVE from a new place of residence. I looked around at eight or nine different places over the space of a week while classes were wrapping up and I resumed working full time. Saw some real dumps, some not so dumpy dumps, met some shady-lookin' people... And in the end I found a pretty good room in a good neighborhood at a good price. The landlord and his family have a very different culture than mine (let's just say their accents are rather thick and I had to buy my own forks and knives because they don't own any). It's been an interesting experience so far, but I don't have many complaints. It certainly doesn't smell like 'home' though. That'll take some getting used to.

Ah, 'home'. Such an arbitrary term. I have no idea what it means to me at the moment, aside from "that's where I sleep and keep all my crap". Oh, and all the crap I have... I wish I wasn't such a pack rat. I hold onto way too much stuff, and even then I find myself running out to buy some essentials I don't yet own. I'm lucky I got such a decent deal with a big enough space - I'm not sure where I would've kept all my boxes o' junk. The last time I moved I had about half a car load worth of stuff. This time I had three. I could probably cut out... A quarter of it, but the rest I don't want to get rid of. Le sigh. Such is the nature of the beast, I suppose.

In other news, I came upon a startling epiphany the other day. I'm in an abusive relationship. A very abusive relationship. Through no fault of my own, I find myself suddenly left all on my own. I put lots of uncomfortable time and effort into salvaging things to make it like it was before. And in this intermediate period I think of how I'd be better off on my own, and how I should just move on. But once we're back together... I'm hooked. I can't stand being away. The doubts still linger, but the excitement and thrill of it all manages to cloud my judgement just enough so that I don't do anything to rock the boat. I end up holding off until the next falling out, where the cycle repeats itself.

I am, of course, talking about my car. I've sunk... Far too much money into that damn contraption over the past three months. It's been in the shop for at least three different issues. You how things are getting bad when the mechanic doesn't need you to leave your phone number, because he already knows it. You know things are really bad when he tells you he isn't sure about this car and how much time and effort (aka $$) you're sinking into it to keep it on the road. But then I get it back and start it and drive off... And I have a hard time imagining being without it. I saw another green Integra while I was on campus, and I immediately started missing my car and wanted to go for a drive. Even though it was just parked a 10min walk away. How pathetic is that? I miss it whenever I'm not even in it. But it just keeps breaking on me. And I think "SURELY IT WILL NOW BE RELIABLE, THAT I'VE FIXED THIS LAST PROBLEM." And then Life laughs at me, and before I know it I'm crammed into a bus with my backpack, laptop bag and portfolio on the way to school, where I'll spend all day with a nervous eye on my cellphone. This is getting stupid. Whenever I step into it and turn the key, I have a half expectancy that it won't even start, and that when it does it won't go into gear (or some such nonsense). But it works. And once I get rolling, all the cares just drain away and I'm a happy man on the road with his machine. Sigh. It's hopeless. I don't know what to do.

The best part about my new place is that across the street, the neighbor keeps a 997 Porsche GT3 in the garage. He takes it out to wash it every once and a while. There's nothing quite like waking up and hearing this weird, mechanical growling noise, only to look out the window and realize that, oh, it's only a $115,000 430HP+ supercar being revved. That can never possibly get old. Hopefully someday I'll man up and grow the courage to walk across the street and ask the owner if I can take a closer look.

What else? Oh yeah, it's been crazy-go-nuts at work. I referred a tutor I worked alongside at school to the business, and now we're coworkers. She's pretty cool, I enjoy working with her, even though she's technically my replacement for while I'm in school. That bit gets kinda awkward at times. What else... I'm going to San Fransisco with everyone at the office next week for a trade show. That'll be fun. Oh, and two people from the office quit, in a spectacular display of drama. Somehow out of that I got a fairly not unsubstantial raise, which was nice (and rather unexpected). Annnnd, yeah. I'm trying to maintain 40hrs a week while I'm taking spring courses. That'll be fun. And the plan is to work 60hrs this summer to pay for the next school year. I just don't have the motivation at the moment, but hopefully I can work back up to it by the time the spring semester wraps up.

Better than expected grades in school, found a good place to live, car's happy and on the road, got a raise... It should be enough to call it a day and say "everything went better than expected." Instead, I have this underlying sense of dread. Maybe it has to do with starting my academic courses, or the upheaval at work, or my... car. Or maybe it's my inner pessimist trying to keep my head out of the clouds and near the ground. I just don't know. But I feel kinda broken right now.
-Cril

You've got sucker's luck
Have you given up?
Does it feel like a trial?
Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?
Does it feel like a trial?
Did you fall far for the same emptinesses again?

Vilify
Don't even try
Vilify
Don't even try

The National - Exile Vilify

Grinding Gears

2011-02-28T21:55:00.002-07:00

There are some things I can cope with. Botching a course. Working lots of overtime. Losing my iPod. Forgetting my lunch in the fridge and subsequently starving for a day.

But one thing that absolutely drags me down and makes the world a terrible place is when I have car issues. I feel so... Handicapped. Realizing that you are no longer on your own schedule, but rather that of others (be it the bus driver or the uncle you're bumming a ride from) really changes your outlook on the world. Sure, it may still be an oyster, but you're not going to be able to catch it on your own.

So it boils down to my sense of independence and freedom, I suppose. But it also removes one of the few personal luxuries I permit myself while in school. Video games, movies, reading, late night walks, sketching and playing instruments all get to the back burner for a few weeks/months. But every day, without fail, I get to start with going for a drive. Its expensive, and in the city it can be frustratingly slow. But I love driving, dammit. It's a costly habit to keep, but it's the only one I can really pretend to justify. It gets me where I need to go for my skewed schedule, and it allows me to keep working after the buses have all stopped running for the night.

But the satisfaction I get from driving isn't just the icing on the cake. It is the cake. I look forward to climbing in the driving seat. I love the texture of the steering wheel, and feeling the vibrations in the stick. There's one stretch on my way to school where I go from a stop light to 70KPH. I love the thrill of climbing up past 4000RPM in third gear, and listening to the engine roar to life. Just in time to skip fourth altogether and drop into fifth, of course. I don't want to totally kill my gas mileage, and there's no sense in adding significant stress to the life of my car.

But sometimes the stress comes regardless, and it breaks things. Like a master clutch cylinder, which starts to leak. Once all the fluid is gone it's impossible to get into gear. Makes the whole contraption rather useless, really.

And so the schedule changes so that you can get around on other people's time tables. And you stress about what might be wrong, and how much it'll cost to fix (about $500, for the record). And you wonder if maybe, after this last repair, it's time to trade in the whole shebang for something smaller and cheaper. But you tell yourself that surely this is one more thing now it working condition, and one less thing to go wrong. After all, any used car will come with baggage of some sort. Inspection or not, it'd be nearly impossible to really understand how reliable a new (used) machine would be. And you think of how much you've enjoyed your current car, and how you know it's carried you home for all those dark, tired nights. We've gone a long ways together, right?

Yeah, the hit to the wallet sucks. And losing your independence for a few days really puts you in a foul mood. But maybe the worst part is the uncertainty. When will it brake down next? Right when I'm running late for class? When I'm out for a drive in the middle of nowhere? How much will it cost to get a tow truck? How about to fix it? How many times can I afford to keep repairing it? This lack of confidence really gnaws away at you. It breaks your heart to not be able to explicitly trust something that's so important to who you find yourself to be.

Maybe some of this is just tired, rambling hyperbole, mixed with some of the other thoughts that are rolling around my head. But I love driving, I love my car, and when it's not working it ruins my outlook more than any piece of machinery has the right to.
-Cril

Ludovico Einaudi - Lady Labyrinth

Lose it in a Minute

2011-01-24T22:40:00.003-07:00

It was another late-ish night on campus again. A pretty hefty part of a project is due tomorrow, and I didn't quite have it beat yet. So after today's class was wrapped up, I headed upstairs to a studio, commandeered a desk, and got setup.

A few hours in, I broke out some instant noodles that I carry around in the scariest depths of my backpack for just this sort of occasion. Ah, good ol' cuppa noodles. Not nutritious or delicious. It's only redeeming value is that it's cheap. Which, when you think about it, means that it's most valuable characteristic is that it isn't very valuable.

Alas, while I was there slurping my craptacular noodle-based soup substance, tick-ticking with the mouse and klackity-klacking with the keyboard, I experienced a peculiar epiphany. This post-secondary education thing is pretty badass.

Don't get me wrong - I still am not a fan of it. I can't deny the ways it's improved my work eithic and time management skills, but I don't think it's positively adding to my general well-roundness or mental health. If it were possible to land a decent job without it, I'd love to do without my 4 year internment. For whatever reason, though, I still find myself spending late evenings such as these in barren quarters, working on projects I'd rather not do.

[Look at all these short, disjointed paragraphs. I need to learn how to write half-competently]

You know what, though? This is probably going to be one of the cooler things I'll do with my life. Think about it - I'm spending 40hrs a week in a building devoted solely to learning and practicing the visual language. That's dedication, yo. And not in the "Look at how much time and effort I'm putting into this" kind of way, but the "I'm spending this entire time thoroughly learning every nook and cranny of this discipline". And this probably goes for all post-secondary pursuits, but, because it's something I'm personally inclined towards, I'm somehow under the notion that this particular field is special. I'm attending an art school. Full time.

I know that since I've started attending, 'Art School' has lost a lot of its magic and mystique. But, really, it's still pretty darn neat. Trades and technical schools are all around the place, but an institution focused on visual language across multiple mediums is a lot less common. I don't think nearly as many people out there experience art school versus a university or college. Not to put either of those down - their fields of expertise is just as, if not more, legitimate pursuits of knowledge and ability. There's a very strong case to be made that they are way more legitimate, given the nature of many Fine Arts pursuits.

Where was I? I'm not even sure. But it's neat to step back and realize how lucky and privileged I am to be where I am. I don't even enjoy school that much. Here I am, though. Doing my four years dedicated to one particular corner of one out of a bajillion disciplines. Heck - most graphic design students will probably only attend a 1 or 2 year program, just long enough to learn the tools and basic concepts. Will they ever learn about the unseen beauty of negative space? Will they get to spend an entire month working on how to modernize an older design style? Will they come to know colour with the same intimacy of an entire course devoted to creating painted charts with each cell painted in a hue specifically mixed by hand? Will they understand how little the technical skill is important, and how it's all about how elements are balanced?

Hell, I don't even know if I'll truly know all those things. I'm not even remotely gifted at what I do. I'm not sure if I'm particularly talented or clever. Most days it's all I can do to hold on by my fingernails, as fatigue and stress tug at the corners. But one thing is for sure - what I'm doing here, now, and for the next couple of years... Is nothing short of hardcore.
-Cril

Lung of love leaves me breathless
Tongue of fool lap me in enmity
Four walled secret lies among the hessian
And a flicker of the future could've saved the cindered sister
And I'm motioning still they stand inside me
And moments until the one I leave
Colourless I kiss her cold forehead I feel life
Lose it in a minute and the ones to come feel too far to care
And I'm motioning still they stand inside me
And moments until the one I leave
People concertina to my private magic lantern move for me
With the senses all inclusive in the theatre of triggered memories

Frou Frou - Flicks

Too Much

2011-01-09T21:06:00.003-07:00

I have two more quick additions to my list of things I discovered during 2010.

I am incredibly politically apathetic. It's probably safe to say I'll never vote for the Bloc Quebecois, but aside from that I don't think I have a reason to vote. New faces and names with dazzling campaign promises. They get into office, and it's just the same crap we've been seeing for the last few years. As far as I can tell, candidates get into office for some combination of the money, perks, power, and prestige. It's not quite so noble or ideal as the "servant of the public" title leads you to believe. Mind you, I think this is in very large part due to the unavoidable exposure to US politics, which are all sorts of corrupt and backwards. So I have very little idea of what's going on in my country, which is compounded by the complete lack of interest in paying attention to political news. All I know about my local representative is that he was the RIAA/MPAA's slut for introducing some DRM-tastic legislation to the country, and that he jumped ship to make more money as a board member for a national bank. So I haven't been voting, as a conscious decision. For two reasons - first, I'm incredibly ignorant when it comes to politics. My uninformed decision should not carry any weight, and it would be disrespectful to my country's ideals to vote just for the sake of casting a ballot. And the second reason I don't vote is because what little I do know about politics leaves me so incredibly jaded that I can't bring myself to throw support behind any given candidate. But I recently discovered something new - I can intentionally spoil a ballot. I don't know why it hasn't occurred to me before. Apparently they even track the number of spoiled votes. This appeals to me. I can exercise my democratic privilege without supporting a candidate I don't favour or giving weight/power to my uninformed views. Works for me. Next time an election happens, I'll be going to the polls with a purpose other than because it's what the people around me want me to do.
Reddit > Digg. It was simultaneously startling and entertaining to watch Digg fall to pieces my infusing their front page with syndicated/publisher crap. The site became immediately useless. But I stuck around and watched it unfold for a few days. At one point, the homepage was absolutely dominated by user-submitted stories from Reddit that had been republished on Digg. So I checked out the site and was... Pleasantly surprised. What's this? Semi-intelligent discussions? More interesting, less idiotic submissions? What really got me was the great sense of community. Members banding together to donate to good causes, give helpful advice, doing favours. The secret Santa gift exchange is the best example, where literally thousands of people from around the globe send presents to people they've never known, in good faith that someone else will do likewise in return. So, yes, it's just a website. But I gotta say, it's a pretty cool one at that.

That pretty much sums it up. Anyways, I started school on Friday. I think I could have used another week of break, because it felt like I had never left. Back to the grind. I'm hopeful for this semester, though, because I'll have one less studio class. It'll give me a full day off every week, which I hope I can use to spend some time at work. 10hrs a week isn't much, but it's better than nothing. It won't make ends meet in and of itself, but the ends will be slightly closer together than they otherwise would be.

In other news, my headphones are busted, I think my iPod is on its last legs, my car has a ECT Circuit Malfunction and I'm not sure if the block heater is working either, I need to RMA a b0rked hard drive, my skin is falling to pieces... THIS IS NOT AN ENCOURAGING START TO THE YEAR.

I don't think I have much else to say. So I'll just say one more time that bit about how I wish I had another week of winter break. There was just so much to do that I never got around to. Alas, I guess this is part of being grown-up, and it'd be rather naive to ask for a "week off". I think what I really had the hardest part with is how much time I spent with other people. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed spending time with good people, but... I'm an introverted animal. I really could've used some more alone/down time than I got. Ah well. Life still goes on, I presume.
-Cril

Floating down the stream of time
Of life to life with me
Makes no difference where you are
Or where you'd like to be

It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around here
All the world is birthday cake
So take a piece, but not too much

The Beatles - Too Much

2010 Retrospective, 2011... Forwardspective

2011-01-01T22:25:00.005-07:00

By now we're all sick of the 'BEST OF 2010' and 'WHAT TO EXPECT IN 2011' lists. Which is precisely why I'm going to throw my version into the mess, with the intent that it'll be completely overlooked by everyone. It's more for my own reference and peace of mind, really.

So, twenty-ten. What did it all mean to me?

I discovered that I still don't care for the Olympics, even if they're happening in my home province. I guess I'm kinda glad we won the gold medal for hockey, which is rather cliche given my nationality, but aside from that... I didn't watch any coverage. Just a web recording of the last 5mins of the game.
Finished the first year of my degree. It was a bit of a shock to be back at school, and the fact that it was an art school certainly put a... unique spin on things. I think the toughest part was the work load - the year of general studies I took at another institution was an absolute cakewalk by comparison. Which isn't exactly what you'd expect from an art school. Well, I suppose things would have been drastically different had I pursued fine arts.
Alas, I got accepted into the Visual Communication Design program. It seemed like such a hurdle at the time - a massive weight on my shoulders, and I really could not figure out which was I wanted the decision to go. It's nice to know that, to some degree, I was deemed by instructors to have sufficient skill to go further. But at the same time, it's so easy to speculate where I could be right now if I had been rejected and no longer went to school. A world of possibilities would lay before me, but I can't deny I've grown substantially in the mean time...
It was undoubtedly my greatest year of artistic development, particularly for drawing. Now, I haven't really done a proper post-mortem on the Fall 2010 semester, and being so late in the winter break there probably won't be one. But for the sake of drawing, the last three assignments in my illustration class went a lil' like this: The best graphite drawing I've ever done got a decent grade, followed by the best ink drawing I've ever done got a pretty good grade, and then finally the best digital piece I've ever done got a pretty awesome grade. How's that for progression? Going into it, I knew that each piece was the best I'd done for the respective medium, and then I received the grades that backed up my theory. Compare it to crap like this, and, well... There ain't much left to say. I'm no illustrator genius by any stretch of the imagination, and those three pieces above were nothing short of painful to make. But I don't think I would have ever imagined being as good as I am now. Alas, that was the last drawing/illustration class I'll have to take for the program, so maybe I'll plateau here. My one big regret is that I never developed my own visual style. But hopefully I can keep drawing a bit in my spare time (watch this space for the untriumphant return of sketch-a-day once the summer rolls around), and make some more (albeit minor) progressions.
This is the first year that my savings account has had a severe thrashing. On the plus side, I spent a record low for entertainment on myself over the past twelve months. My essential expenditures, however, are somewhat... Staggering. Well, ok, that isn't too much of an issue. I think it was my inability to work during this fall semester that created the problem. It's rather alarming, even though my calculations/estimates were fairly close and I saw it coming. Knowing that my savings are rapidly evaporating sets off certain alarms in my head. All of the sudden every single cost feels double, and every price tag looks bigger than it should be. THAT'S GOT TO BE INFLATION, RIGHT? No, it's just me becoming poorer.
All things considered, workload-wise, it's probably been my most intense year to date. With the exception of two months in the summer at 60hrs/wk, the rest of the time I've been clocking between 60-80hrs on work and school. I remember getting my knickers in a twist a few years ago where I had to work ten hours a day for a couple weeks during the Christmas rush. That's peanuts in comparison to what I'm doing now.
I celebrated the 5th anniversary of employment at my current job. I've moved up in the ranks from washing the floor and packing shipments to doing graphic design, managing web content, and running a $20,000 piece of machinery. I think I've even doubled my hourly wage, which is pretty nice.
I discovered that I am, in fact, a mortal being. I went to a family reunion in the summer, and seeing all the old faces and watching as my grandmother cleared out to sell the house my father grew up in... It struck home. My grandmother is an old lady who can't take care of a big house. My father is an older man who can't stay awake in a theater. The hair on my mom's head is starting to thin out. If they're getting old... I'm getting old too. Heck, I couldn't even remember what my age was when my birthday rolled around.
In fact, I thought I was turning a year older than I actually was. I think that on some level I was hoping this slightly older age would provide a legitimate reason for the distance in between me and my classmates. Instead... The truth is that I'm just more mature, I guess. I roll my eyes at the lewd jokes, don't understand how the stories of getting absolutely drunk are told so joyfully, and the thought of going to a party completely uninterests me. It kinda sucks, in a way, because I feel so detached from everyone around me. Classmates go for a round of beer after class, and I... Skip supper and stay on campus until midnight doing homework. And, of course, they relentlessly make fun of me for being the way I am. I never hear the end of it for being 'on top' of things. Who knows, maybe I'm mature or maybe I'm just a loser. Some days, in that setting, I really can't tell the difference.
I made my largest technological purchase - a laptop. I hate it. Well, not the laptop itself, but the concept of it. I'd much be at my desktop, where I am now, to do my work. But it's a necessary ~~evil~~ tool, so I stick it out.
I've rediscovered the Beatles. Particularly their later works. This happened after spending a lot of time with a classmate who absolutely loves their last albums. It's like seeing something very old through a new set of eyes - my perspective has been turned on its head. I thought they were just weird songs (and, indeed, some of them are). But given the context, it completely reaffirms to me the talent of the four musicians. If you haven't recently, listen to the entirety of Abbey Road in the track order that was intended. Maybe it'll completely underwhelm you. But for me, like I'm listening to it now... It's total magic and a testiment to musical genius.

I think that's about it in the way of personal epiphanies. So, like any end-of-year article, I need a 'best of' list. So here we go. (Warning: Be prepared to be bombareded by completely ignorant and uninformed opinions. I haven't played that many games, listened to that many albums, or seen that many movies over the course of the year)

Favourite Album of 2010: Circle by Scala and the Kolacny Brothers
It has a great selection of tracks, all wonderfully arranged with powerful delivery. See Champagne Supernova for a prime example. A runner-up for favourite album released this year might be the Inception soundtrack produced by Hans Zimmer. Ok Go's Of the Blue Colour of the Sky was alright, with a small handful of catchy tunes. The Barenaked Ladies' All in Good Time... Broke my heart. It's a good musical effort, with good writing and performances, but it just isn't the same without Steven Page. Kudos to the band for still pluggin', though. (Disclaimer: These four albums are the only ones I have in my music library for 2010)

Favourite Film of 2010: Inception
Blew. My. Mind. I've never been riveted to the edge of my seat like that before - I couldn't believe how intense and weird and utterly engrossing the movie was all the way through. I don't know enough about cinematography to make an informed statement, but I love Christopher Nolan's films, and this was one of his best. They're certainly different than the rest of the crap usually churned out by Hollywood. Aside from that... Toy Story 3 was very well made. It was hilarious and sensitive to its origins. Tron Legacy was a solid sci-fi flick, and its visuals were certainly striking. The original Tron was a little bit before my time, though, so I didn't quite have that emotional connection. But the sequel was a good movie on its own. Except for CGI Jeff Bridges. The 'C' in 'CGI' must stand for 'crap'. Aaand what else? Oh, Iron Man 2. The plot was a bit of a mess, and the characters didn't really develop at all. The whole movie seemed like a cheap excuse to string some action scenes together. (Disclaimer: these are all the films I've seen that were released in 2010)

Favourite Television Show of 2010: Top Gear
I mean, common, like you even had to ask. (Disclaimer: It's the only TV show that aired in 2010 that I've watched more than two episodes of)

Favourite Game of 2010: Battlefield Bad Company 2
The single player was pretty... Generic. It wasn't terrible by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly lacked that certain something to make it notable. The multiplayer, however, is incredible. The infantry and vehicle balance is spot-on, the action is focused (I'm especially partial towards Rush mode), the visuals are gorgeous, and the environment damage is FANTASTIC. I've probably written about it before, but it bears repeating. It changes how you view the, uh, battlefield and plan your tactics. I think it's my favourite multiplayer game since TF2, being worth the price of admission even without the singleplayer. The closest contender for top spot is Assassin's Creed II, for it's wonderful story and fun gameplay mechanics. The visuals and presentation are pretty nice too. But I got totally sucked in with the plot, compelling environment and enjoyable gameplay. I also played Splinter Cell Conviction, which felt like a slightly more shallow modern equivalent of AC2. But fun nonetheless. And, had Ubisoft not bundled these with atrocious and useless DRM that I can't bring myself to support, I would have purchased these two titles in a heartbeat. You know, like I did with Bad Company 2.

But moving on, Dirt 2 would be another runner up. Like Grid, Codemasters excels at capturing the excitement of the experience. I don't really have any other way to describe it, really. The graphics and gameplay are solid. I don't think there are any mechanics that make me go "WOW!!", but it's simply one of the most exhilarating racing games I've ever played. Batman Arkham Asylum comes next. It's just a fantastic brawler that really makes you feel like the Dark Knight - the detective, the predator, and warrior. (Disclaimer: These last two were technically released in 2009, but I bought/played them in 2010, so I figured I'd just throw them in to pad my list)

And what of the next year? Twenty-eleven, is it?

I'll get more than half way through my degree. And I will, uh, uhm... That's all I got, really. That's the only noteable thing I can forsee for the upcoming year.

If I were the kind to make New Year's resolutions, I'd say that this year I'd like to play my instruments more. And read more. And make sure I post here more, write in my journal more, go for more walks, do more chores around the house, do more sketches, call my family more, play more games with my friend and brother... And who wouldn't want to do these things? It's funny, because I've come to this divide where the limiting factor isn't a lack of motivation or discipline or money, but a lack of time. Maybe I'll make some headway with these when the summer rolls around, but until then it's all about school and work. I guess that's a goal for every year - do okay in school, don't go broke. And those two seem to override everything else. I feel really bad about not playing my instruments, though. I think that one will get bumped up to the next position in the priority list, if the occasion presents itself. But I really should write more too... Argh.

I can't remember why, but I know that 2009 sucked. But you, 2010: You were pretty unremarkable. You'll go down in my memory as... Nothing I'll have strong or significant feelings for. That is, until I wander through my blog archives to this post, and get a better idea of what actually happened. And to 2011: I really have no idea what you have in store. It looks like it'll be another bland year of getting work done and getting poorer. Too far from the beginning and too far from the end of school to be of note. Please, give me a little bit of personal time here and there - I'll take whatever I can get. Please don't let my car crap out on me - repairs are expensive and such a hassle. If my iPod finally bites the dust, let me find a cheap (yet decent) replacement so that I can still take my music with me. Please bless me with a wider perception of the world and understanding for how I'm supposed to fit into all this mess. Please give me patience and clarity and wisdom and kindness. And a lil' money wouldn't hurt here and there, if it isn't too much of a hassle. I just wanna get through to the other side and still make ends meet. Please.
-Cril

Hans Zimmer - Time

Striking Close to Home

2010-12-19T21:15:00.002-07:00

Whelp, I survived the final week of the semester. I think everything went a bit better than expected.

But something happened that kinda struck me. Last week I talked about the disconnect between what I thought of communism versus the experiences of those that have lived it. On Tuesday, this hit pretty close to home. Look at this:

First off, it certainly isn't mine. It belongs to a Chinese exchange student we'll call Allie. She drew this image of Liu Xiaobo, for the final Illustration assignment where we had to make a piece to accompany a news article. That brown/red palette and the flowing robes completely suck me in. But I digress.

Xiaobo is a Chinese citizen who was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. This was against the wishes of the government, who threw him in jail and prevented his relatives/friends from accepting the award on his behalf. Allie created this piece to accompany the commentary on this controversial story, and decided to post it on her blog to show all of her friends and family. She didn't even use tags or a description, but the Chinese government found the image and banned/deleted her entire blog. I don't have all of the exact details, but this is what I happen to understand of the situation.

Now I don't know if you've noticed, but I like my blog. It's one of my most effective means of catharsis, and I enjoy documenting all my useless thoughts and opinions to come back and review years/months down the road. I would be absolutely devastated if I were to lose everything I've accumulated so far. So in between that and belief that no one should have their ideas silenced, I did the only thing I could - I asked her permission to host the image. Somewhere, I hope, that the Chinese government wouldn't have control over. I certainly hope that's the case - I'd be equally anguished if I lost my images and their descriptions.

I find it a bit alarming and amusing by the 'stance' I've taken against oppression. Some people protest and risk life and limb to get a message across. I just put a picture on the internet, but I still think it's some kind of big deal. Really, it isn't. I haven't done anything noteworthy. I can't say that I'd go and picket or actively fight such a regime. But here I am, doing whatever it is I do from the comfort of my computer chair.

Anyways. Even the fact that I did something about it isn't my main point. I knew that China has a history of censorship and tight control over media. I knew that this kind of stuff happens all the time. But when it occurred right on my academic doorstep... It really made a connection. Especially the one week after I put down my thoughts about my views on the matter. It was like a ton of bricks that came out of nowhere. The world is, in fact, a scary place, and it's becoming rapidly apparent to me just how much I take for granted in day-to-day life.

I submitted the image to Reddit not too long ago. I wanted to spread it around - I wanted people to see what was trying to be suppressed, as a pathetic effort to strike back at a horrible regime. I expect one, maybe two dozen views. In the past 24hrs the image has received +33,000 views, and it keeps climbing. Maybe I'm still incredibly naive about these things, but part of me is incredibly worried that this might backfire and get Allie into even more trouble. It would be a stupid price to pay for my miserable attempt to make a worthless stand. So I sit here and I worry I've just doomed some perfectly nice and talented individual I barely know. It's all striking close to home, indeed. Too close, I think.
-Cril

If they should ask
Then maybe they'd
Tell me what I should say
True colors fly
In blue and black
Bruised silken sky
And burning flag
Colorscrash
Collide in blood shot eyes

If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go

This desperation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go

Scala and Kolacny Brothers - Bad

The Winds of Change Whisper in the Trees

2010-12-12T22:26:00.003-07:00

Oh my. It's been a while. A long while. There's a fistful of things I want to talk about, but there's far too much material there to fit into the last half-hour or so before I need to get ready for tomorrow and call it a night. So tonight we're keeping it simple.

I'm sitting here pounding the keys away as a last minute resort to put off the next week. I'll have a project due every single day, except for Friday. There's so much to do, and here I am... Not doing it. Feelin' a bit fried, to be honest.

I've discovered the wonders of going in to school on Saturday to do homework. It's particularly easy now that I've discovered that there isn't a parking attendant for the campus lot that day, so it's nice to cut out that 10-20min walk on the weekend. But yeah, go in to school around 10, work to 9 or 10, and go home. There might be a grand total of five or six other people from my year of the program in the school. I'm normally at my usual desk, with two or three other people in the class with me. I get in, and work, work, work. I'm a lot more productive than when I stay home, where I tend to get distracted easily.

This last week I've been staying on campus until 9... every night. Class ends and I just stay at my desk and keep plugging. There's so much to do. But there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm not sure what kind of light - I know that once Friday afternoon rolls around I'll need to do shopping and cleaning and organizing. I haven't even begun to start preparing for Christmas. But my break is about two and a half weeks long, five of which I'll be spending at home. The rest... I'll be working, of course.

Did I mention that I buggered up my neck yesterday? Because I've let me hair grow out and I'm rather shaggy, it collects quite a bit of moisture in the shower. To try and get rid of some of this excess dihydrogen monoxide I figured it'd be a good idea to thrash my head around. So I threw up the horns and rocked my head up and down like a rock star, until something in my neck went 'pop'. It's a fine time to do it, too, when I have a MASSIVE project I need to do that involves getting up close and personal with some paper for the purpose of cutting itty-bitty pieces. It ain't so much fun, let alone with a finicky spinal column.

I've been tutoring a bit this semester, and it's been a really interesting experience. Sure, the paycheck is nice, but I really enjoy being able to help people. There's something to be said for guiding people along the right track. That is, when they WANT to be on the right track. Not like the student who comes in five days before the exam and informs me she's missed the last two weeks of classes. Or the other student who sends in essays for me to proof that are so grammatically... special... that I have a hard time understanding what they're trying to say at all. Two weeks ago, all the major papers were due. I think I spent more time doing other people's homework than my own. There was one night where I proofed two papers, and stayed up until midnight waiting for another, which I corrected and sent back. I ended wrapping things up around 1AM, which is a wee bit late for the likes of me.

The real eye-opener, though, was working with some of the international students. There's one girl who is so sweet, but she's incredibly uptight. And another that writes such great essays that I question why she comes in at all. And a very old Asian lady that is so obviously far out of practice for academic assignments. The interesting thing here, however, is that this old lady is/was taking a Humanities course that focuses on great thinkers (Plato, Martin Luther King Jr, Rousseau, etc), and had to write a paper about Karl Marx's theories. She grew up in Hong Kong, and had such an overwhelming passion and bias against the man. Calling him a murderer, psychopath, etc. It was a challenge to keep that paper 'formally' written. But just that intense point of view really made me stop and think. To me, communism is an intriguing ideal and Marx was a philosopher who was perplexed with the problem of how to provide for the working class. To this old lady, communism was all about control and abuse of power, and Karl Marx had never contributed anything worth while to humanity. It really made me realize how easy it is to be an arm-chair thinker and end up coming to drastically different opinions from the people who actually live the topic you're analyzing.

I've been trying to expand my Christmas music collection this year, so I did a bit of downloadin'. MAN, there are a bunch of craptacular holiday covers. I'm bombing through loads of music and indiscriminately deleting songs without even listening to them all the way through. All of this was kind of spurred on by trying to find a decent version of When a Child is Born. There's something about that faintly melancholy melody. But you see, this song is plagued by one or both of two problems - crappy, wavering/flourishy vocals and the stupid monologue in the middle (I loathe monologues in the middle of songs). I have versions with one of the problems, and I have versions with both of the problems. If you know of an un-craptacular rendition, let me know.
-Cril

It's all a dream, an illusion now.
It must come true sometime soon somehow
All across the land dawns a brand new morn
This comes to pass when a child is born

Judy Collins - When a Child is Born

Un crit terrible

2010-10-28T15:36:00.003-06:00

I think I may have just experienced my worst crit, ever. The assignment was to create a King/Queen/Jack set of cards for a culture. I chose to do Stalinist Russia, and I figured my assignment went pretty well. So I get up and give a quick oral presentation, talking about the various features and actions I made. I didn't stumble or rush - I finished up and felt pretty good.

And then crickets.

The prof asked, "comments, anyone?"

...

More crickets.

Finally a girl I sit near during class started to say something. YES! SAVED! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Unfortunately, her comment pretty much consisted of 'it didn't really make sense until you explained it'. Ouch. I mean, she said it nicer than that and I think she was doing her best to throw me a line, but still.

Oh well, the gates are open for more comments and maybe some positive feedback, right?

...

MORE CRICKETS.

Finally, the prof said that I screwed up my hierarchy system and had a few flaws in my colour scheme. My crit was over and I sat down, just glad to not be standing in front of a silent class.

I managed to get an alright grade on the assignment, but just to make things that much more fantastic, all the projects except for mine and three or four others were taken to be put on display. I mean, sure, I don't mind if it doesn't go up - it wasn't perfect. But the fact that I was clearly in the bottom 20% of the class wasn't too pleasant.

So, yeah. That sucked.
-Cril

But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
And you don't feel much like ridin',
You just wish the trip was through

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin' star again
There I go
Turn the page

Well you walk into a restaurant,
Strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you're shakin' off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to explode

Metallica - Turn the Page

An illusion caused by the world spinning 'round

2010-10-11T21:43:00.003-06:00

Where I live, I park in a spot that belongs to someone else. For $20/month, an old lady one complex over lets me use it, because a) she doesn't drive, and b) it ain't that smart to drive a 15 year old car around in Calgary winter when you can't plug in the block heater. That, and it lets me park right by our place, so it works out.

So, like at the beginning of every month, I come by this old lady's house and drop off a $20. I think she has some bad hearing - her TV is always on really loud, and it usually takes two or three knocks before she comes to the door. She's old and frail and has gray hair, but she's sweet. Always has something to chat about. This month, she wished me a happy Thanksgiving. I returned the compliment, and asked if she had any plans. She said she didn't - her husband had died some time ago. They were both peacekeepers with the UN, you know. He was a field medic. I told her I was sorry to hear he had passed, but to have a great Thanksgiving all the same. She told me to enjoy mine too, and pass the wishes on to my wife.

It occurred to me as I was leaving that if her husband was dead and she didn't have any plans, then she probably didn't have any children/relatives/friends to spend the day with either. Sure, as much as I wish I did, I do not, in fact, have a wife to share such a holiday with. But all of the sudden I was that much more grateful that I could call the family I can't be with and spend a few hours in the company of other relatives I have within the city. But what about the old lady I pay parking money to?

"Happy" Thanksgiving, everyone.
-Cril

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize
We're floating in space?
Do you realize
That happiness makes you cry?
Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?

Flaming Lips - Do You Realize?

Week[/end]

2010-10-03T20:52:00.004-06:00

At the beginning of a weekend, as you stroll away from campus, you find yourself thinking, "I have two days ahead of me before I go back to class. The possibilities are endless."

I'm here to let you know that the possibilities, are not in fact endless.

I thought I'd get through all my homework with a bit of time to spare, so I could kick back and enjoy myself for an hour or two. Alas, 'twas not meant to be. I can't believe the weekend is simply gone. Where did it go? Do I really have anything to show for it? Ugh, how frusterating. This thing kinda scares me, actually, because I don't have any other buffer. Last year I could skip out on work if I needed to, but now... The weekend is everything I've got.

Figure 1: This is precisely the kind of thing I didn't do with my weekend.

It just sucks so much to feel so optimistic, and then a mere ~48 hours later be exhausted and feeling so defeated. I thought that weekends were supposed to have the opposite effect. I guess not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to squeeze another two hours of work out of this dried, shriveled up two-day break before I call it a night. Bleh.
-Chris.

Paul Crossley - Suite Bergamasque - Clair de Lune

Chuggin'

2010-09-26T21:25:00.002-06:00

I think I've done it. I've completed all of the four projects due this week over the course of the last three days. Well, almost. I have a few secondary/trivial things to wrap up, but the majority of the hardcore work is completed. I'd say that it's a nice feeling, but the weekend is over and by the time tomorrow afternoon rolls around I'll have another project to work on. And I have a bajillion other things I should be doing inbetween. Blargh.

Aaaand I'm not sure what else to say, really. If this week will be par for the course in terms of workload, I think I'll be in decent shape for the rest of the year. I can handle this. Probably.

You know, it's a bit nerve wracking. I have four projects due this week, and I had my first crit last week. So THIS WEEK I'll find out how well I'm doing. I have all new instructors except for one, and even then now that I'm in the VC program I'm wondering if the marking criteria will be even tougher. I'll be finding out soon enough.

I'm house-sitting at the moment, so I'm not at my home machine where my CT-024 images are kept. Thus, I can't upload a new pic for the series this weekend. Bummer. This will have to do - the result of my first due assingment. It's from Typography class, where we were assigned a word and had to show the meaning of it by writing out the word with objects in an environment. I was given 'emphasis':

Not entirely pleased with how it came out. I find the dark bar along the bottom (the floor) to be rather distracting. Also, once you print it out and step back more than three feet, you can't tell any passages have been highlighted. This is a bad thing to discover thirty seconds after you put it up on the wall for crit. I coulda/shoulda beefed it up in Photoshop. Well, I actually did. But not enough, apparently. Oh well, I think the composition and concept are pretty solid. We'll see where the marks land.

...sorry folks, that's all I got for this week. It's been nothing but sex, drugs, and homework. Minus the first two parts. What a glamorous life I lead.
-Chris.

Count Basie - How Long Blues

Now the rain's a-fallin'

2010-09-19T20:10:00.002-06:00

So I mentioned last year that the ratio of gals to dudes in art school was something like 3:1, right? Well, in the Visual Communications program, I think that figure may be closer to 5:1. Don't know why. But each class is made of ~20 students, and most of the time it's just me and one other guy. Sometimes there's one or two more. Apparently there are more gals than guys enrolling in post-secondary as is, but I get the feeling that art school, particularly the program and class I'm a part of, is a little bit more estrogen-heavy than other Name Brand Institutions.

Well, alright then. I mean, it's a bit awkward being on of the only ~10 guys in my entire class/grade/program, but that's okay. I'll get to observe and bask in a classroom culture dominated by the fairer sex. I'll witness first-hand several relationships and social circumstances generated by the kinder, and more patient and wise gender. Who knows, with those odds I might even be able to find a girl who's dense enough to be interested in the likes of yours-truly.

So I was sitting there in class, pondering this very topic, when I overhear a conversation taking place behind me. Some girl pipes up, "I don't, like, really want to, like, get married or anything. As long as I get a boyfriend who will take me places and buy me diamonds, I'll be happy."

For reals. She was absolutely serious. Either that, or I cannot read the wimminz at all. Stay classy, ladies.
-Cril

My mama done tol' me
When I was in knee-pants
My mama done tol' me, Son
A woman'll sweet talk
And give ya the big eye
But when the sweet talkin's done
A woman's a two-face
A worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing the blues
In the night

Sergio Vellatti - Blues in the Night

Triumphantless Return

2010-09-12T20:44:00.003-06:00

I just survived the first three days of classes, and, uh... It was easier than expected, to tell the truth. But this, folks, is what we call "a false sense of security". I'm sure it'll go all to hell very shortly.

In a nutshell, I did well with the in-class stuff, and had all my homework completed by late Saturday. I feel, dare I say, on top of things. Still, this will be my first full week and I'm sure it'll be a lot more intense than what I've done so far. To assume that the rest of the year will be similar to the first three days is a stupid assumption to make. And yet I want to believe it so badly...

It was subtle, but I've made a shift into 'school' mode. I was digging through some laundry in my room the other evening, when I realized that my world had gone two shades grayer. And I'm not talking about dust, either. It's that mentality where you're not quite seeing the world at hand, because you know there are more important things you need to be concentrating on. I've also noticed that, almost overnight, I've become incompetent at multiplayer video games. I just can't stack up against anyone else in the server - instead of being in the top ~5 spots on the scoreboard, I'm in the lower 5. Can't aim fast enough to get off the shots. Not thinking and moving tactically. And I was fine last weekend, even. It's like a switch - all of the sudden I'm just not feelin' it. I've discovered that letting my mind idle is a stressful thing to do. I get super worked up, as pick up speed circling the drain on my way to being totally overwhelmed. I worry about class A then B then C, then the car, then class D, then finances, then class E... It's a slippery slope. Uncomfortably slick.

It doesn't help that one of the first things the professors told us upon returning was proper nutrition for pulling an all-nighter. Eat once an hour, carbs and proteins, no sugar/sweets and no energy drinks. Yeah, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. Oh, that familiar sinking feeling. Just when I thought "Okay, maybe I can do this..." everything gets called into question. I don't operate well on a lack of sleep. And maybe it's all an intimidation thing, but still. It doesn't help.

I secretly wish I didn't have a large portion of this weekend "off". I feel so unproductive, and everything I've done with my time feels so unsatisfactory. Maybe I should've gone in to work. That'd be a bit of a challenge - my desk/computer has already been cannibalized for other employees. Oh well, so it goes.

I'm tired. There were other things I wanted to say, I think, but I can't recall them. Maybe that's just school working on my brain, making me feel all sorts of scrambled.

My room mates started watching The 4400 the other day, and I watched the pilot episode with them. Man, that was a good show. I wish I could watch it again too.

Bleh. I'm feelin' so... Unsettled.
-Cril

Ronald Jenkees - Stay Crunchy

Beaten and Blown by the Wind

2010-09-06T20:49:00.003-06:00

I had a discussion with my younger (~7 year old) cousin a little ways back. I forget what exactly started it off - I think we were discussing the car on my desktop wallpaper - a Porsche 911 Turbo S - and I mentioned to him "A lot of race cars have engines in the back, behind where you sit". He noted that my car is front engined, saying "But you have a race car!" I chuckled and replied "Well, most of the super cool race cars have their engines in the back." I wasn't expecting his response - "But you're super cool!"

Hah. The kind of an observation that can only be the product from the mind of a small child. I miss those simple times, the basic "if x then y" logic that was so obvious and unquestionable. Not having to worry about working overtime to pay for school or where you're going to park your fancy-schmancy super-cool 15 year-old Acura "sports car". Heh.

This week I discovered a thing called TSD Rallying (Time Speed Distance), where the objective is to be as close as you can to maintaining an average speed in between different stages. These take place on paved and dirt roads, over a total course length of 100-700 kilometers. Cars are staggered by one minute, so you'll seldom come in direct contact with another driver. The best part? After paying the $70 registration fee, any road-legal car can participate. A quick look through some online classifieds show that there are fistfuls of Cavaliers and Neons that can be had for around $500. Feels like a rather reasonable/cheap investment considering it'd be the easiest way to get into freaking rally driving. It's the kind of thing that's so approachable and easy to get into. I really wish I had known about it earlier, particularly before starting school. I spent so many years working and going home to spend my time gaming or drawing or browsing the internet. Not necessarily bad things... But they certainly pale in comparison to what I could have been doing once a month or so with an old beat-up car. Maybe next summer. If not, I will be doing it three to four years from now.

I slept in this morning. I didn't even set the alarm. It's probably the first time I've intentionally done so... In a while. I even took Saturday off - I did it once for the long August weekend, but aside from that I simply can't recall the last Saturday I didn't go to work or spend the whole day on school assignments. Christmas break, probably.

Why am I slacking off right before the start of school? I'm tired. In the bones. But I came on this realization when I got my paystub for August. Turns out that over the past two months I've logged 120+ hours of overtime at work. Not bad, I guess. Three weeks of full-time work accumulated within eight. I'm sure I could turn that into some sort of clever ratio or percentage, but I'd rather not like to know. On one hand it's a relief - it'll probably pay for three months of rent. On the other hand... I feel like I've wasted away a big chunk of my summer. I could've done more. I should've done more. Being the summer, I got a pretty sorry case of the lazies. Hopefully I can jump back on the horse in short order. Well, I'm not going to have a choice in the matter.

But now the clock winds down. I have little time left in my summer, and I've tried to make the most of it. Watched some movies, played some games with friends. The last thing on my bucket list is to do some laser engraving, watch one last movie, and play my sax/ocarina. I'm not convinced I'll be able to get to all of them, especially considering classes start on Wednesday, I work tomorrow, need to get my supplies ready, the movie is 3hrs long, and... I'm all sorts of stressed out. Bleh.

Of course, I say this like there won't be any time or opportunity to do these things while I'm actually in school. Which, unfortunately, is most likely the case. I desperately want to convince myself that the second year will, of course, be much better than the first. It's not a crazy notion to hope that things will get better, right? Well, any which way I look at it I don't think it'll add up that way. I won't be working, sure. But there'll be even more hours in class and more homework. I've done the math over and over, skewed it this way and that, and I can't find a way to manipulate it to look encouraging. At best, it'll be a repeat of last year (except for a more rapidly draining back account, due to not being able to work). At worst... I dunno. Last year was rough. I dunno how it could get worse. During the first year, we had a bunch of presentations by senior year students, and they all said that second year was the toughest. Go figure.

But there are good things about school to grasp like straws and cling to, right? There are some decent people it'd be nice to see again. There's a lot of incredible talent and amazing artwork to behold. One of the great things about art school is that you can't take anything for granted. Nothing is strange. Well, let me rephrase that - there are plenty of weird things that come out of that school. But if you see something that feels out of the ordinary - some peculiar graffiti or an odd arrangement of litter - you can't take it at face value, because it might be "art".

At the end of one day, I was leaving class and walking through the main mall to head out to the parking lot. Littered across part of the floor was a field of popcorn. Sure, you'd think it was garbage, that someone had dropped a container of everyone's favourite buttered snack. But no, at art school you can't make such assumptions. I stood and watched for a few minutes while other students, trying to leave campus, carefully tip-toed through the mess. Not a kernel was disturbed, less a delicate or intentional pattern would be upset. It was funny. Before long, it was my turn and I did the same. I have no idea if I was being watched, or if it was an art project or not. This kind of a thing is a regular occurrence by now. Something that I'm used to, something that I don't really bat an eye at. But it's still an amusing notion, when something you'd expect to be unusual is just ordinary, and vice versa.

My sleep has been... Agitated lately. Just like being awake. A bundle of nerves, a bundle of nerves. A perpetual state of uneasiness. I'm being tortured by the butterflies inside me. I woke up early Saturday morning - forfeiting whatever precious rest I may or may have not gained by sleeping in - to watch the sun rise. So I got in my super cool sports car and drove to a park - one that's practically comprised of a single, bumpy, rolling hill. I walked to the top, stood in the (surprisingly warm) early morning breeze, and took a few shots. I brought along my iPod and headphones, but oddly enough they stayed around my neck. I just kinda took it in. Listened to the wind in the grass, the birds, and the waves of traffic pulsing by the road below. It was nice. A peculiar, isolated moment of peace.

Anyways, the movie I've been watching while writing this has drawn to a close. Just like my summer. I'll survive the next eight months, right? There's TSD rallying on the other side to look forward to. Three more years. Three more years.
-Cril

I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name

Derek Webb - Where the Streets Have No Name

Five Years is a Long Time

2010-08-29T20:35:00.007-06:00

On Thursday at work we needed to make sensor springs for a certain product. Basically, you take a crap load of gold (colour) wire, spin it a million dimes around a drum, and then cut down them all off, so you have a many wires of a determined length. Then you take this old teal wireless screwdriver, put a special shaft on it with an opening, insert a wire into the hole, bend it over, and spring the whole thing around the shaft until you have a spring that's 1/4inch long. The trick is to get each wrap to be flush with the one before it, so that there aren't any gaps. Anyways, I'm one of the only people in the company who knows how to do it, and I got through a hundred or so of these things before The Powers At Be got one of the junior staff to take over. He'd never done it before, but he's a pretty smart guy and fairly mechanically inclined. So I showed him how it was done, and then handed the drill over while he sat at my desk and I chugged away at whatever it was I was working on. The next half-hour was full of him muttering "crap", "f*ck", "sh*t", with the odd "is this good enough?" to break things up.

I thought about when I was the one that learning how to make those cursed springs. It was actually the very first task I did on my first day of work. I don't remember much about the first few weeks - it's all kinda hazy, and full of half-memories. But I recall making those springs. Cursing - not in such a vulgar matter, mind you - and throwing fistfuls of screwed up sensor springs into the garbage.

It's getting pretty darn close to the five-year mark since that happened. I graduated in June and worked part-time at a mini golf/miniature train theme park outside of a major tourist trap near where I lived. Towards the end of the summer I had my heart crushed into itty-bitty pieces, and took a couple weeks off (now that I'd lost my job at the tourist joint, as it closes for the fall/winter). I remember bumming around home a lot. I remember long walks in the cool autumn air, and sitting at the computer occupying myself with... I can't remember what game. Probably Counter-Strike Source, Day of Defeat Source, Battlefield 2, or a concoction of all three. Concoction. What a weird looking word.

Anyways, the weeks rolled by and I applied for work here and there with no luck. I got my first car, purchased with a loan from my parents - a red 1986 CRX Si, with standard transmission. Which I didn't know how to operate. I got a job as a vacuum salesman, believe it or not, where I learned how to drive stick under fire. Including the commute, my day went from 6AM to 10PM. Two weeks went by where I realized that the job wasn't quite as elegant/lucrative/easy as the three-day training had made it out to be. I was making a late appointment in a nice neighborhood at 8/9PM - my last of the day. It was raining, and I was standing there with a vacuum in one hand and a kit of necessary props for making the pitch in the other. I was tired and wet, and I'd been spending more time in my car than actually talking to people. I rang the doorbell and put on a smile. A mid age couple answered, I could see some kids in the back of the house. They didn't want to see the demo, of course - not even the free gift (kitchen knives! Wow!) would get me in the door. But rather than the cold, yet polite, refusal, they talked to me for a bit. About... Me. Who I was, what my plans were. I said I wasn't sure what my goals are, but I'm working towards saving for school. Then something weird happened. They told me to go home. They said I could do better than hawking vacuums all day. Maybe they knew or recognized something I didn't know was there. Or maybe they just knew how to screw with a fatigued and naive kid, in a soaking dress shirt under the late-night glow of a porch light with rain pattering all around. I quit the next day. I mean, yeah, I knew the job wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, but that event pushed me over the edge and give me the courage to make the jump. I meant to send that couple in the nice house a card or letter of some sort, but I never did.

I made about $250 with that job, a gross fortune less than the hours or effort I put into it. I went and got a job with a large telephone computer-support center in town. Everyone knows about it, and no one wants to work there unless they really have to. I got the job (they were hiring ANYONE), at a whopping $10/hr. I was thrilled. I went through training for two weeks with a collection of pretty good people. I wasn't particularly thrilled by it, but I figured I'd manage. The one or two calls I did live scared the crap out of me, though. It came down to the last week of training, and my mom said that my uncle was looking for someone to come do basic labour at his business in the next province over. Sure, I wasn't too comfortable with my current job, but I wasn't sure if I hated it enough to pick up and leave home just yet. So I sweated over it for a few days and decided a change of location might work out for the better.

To tell the truth, this was largely fueled by the desire to pick up and get as far away as I could from She Who Broke Hearts. So a day before I graduated from training, I quit. I left my second job in as many weeks. Before I even finished training, no less. I felt like a scumbag. But I rolled with it. Said my goodbyes, packed up my computer, and hopped on a Greyhound Bus. I ended up winding sensor springs less than 24hrs later.

So I worked and saved. Assembled kits and products, swept floors. A few months later I learned my CRX bit the dust - there was unrepairable rust on the frame that made the car undrivable. I felt bad because a) My first car had been a failure and b) I ended up stiffing my folks who said they'd hand the car payments. At work I moved up to doing some graphic design - something I'd dabbled with in high school. Did the odd graphic here and there, taking a bit of the load off of the boss. Started doing it more and more, eventually I was doing the creative and rendering for print advertisements and doing product photography. I had a $1000 bursary from graduating which expired within a year. I sent a letter in and got an extension. The next year I bought a grey 1996 Civic CX and moved back home. Hauled everything I owned with my over the Rockies in my lil' Honda. I used up the bursary (and a good chunk of my own change) to take some general studies for two semesters. A bit of business, music, graphic design, and communication theory. I'm not sure if any of it ever became useful. I look back on that year, spending the time not in school by bumming around the house, as a waste of time. I got so little accomplished and spent so much money. I'm not sure what came out of it.

Then I went back to my uncle's business for the summer, intent on going back to school to take... something. But the end of the summer rolled around and I stayed. For a year or two. Moved out of my uncle/aunts house, and in with some co-workers and friends. Applied at art school, got accepted, and was freaked out. Bought a green 1997 Integra without taking my time to really think about it, ending up with a car with a fistful of reliability problems. Did my first year of studies, and worked harder than I ever have in my life. Learned how to throw away all sorts of personal interests for the sake of being productive, even though I wasn't having a whole lot of fun. Finished the first year, applied for the Bachelor of Design program so I could pursue Graphic Design, got accepted, and got freaked out. Three more years of hard work ahead of me, apparently. Worked 50-60hrs/week during the summer between years one and two, where I sat at a desk typing while a 19-year-old straight out of high school is cursing at the little gold wires that contort themselves around a teal cordless drill.

Looking back, that rainy evening by porch light seems like a lifetime and a half ago. Five years. Five years. But at the same time, it can't be that long. How can that much time pass by so quickly?

This summer we had a family reunion. Lots of grey faces I don't recognize. My grandmother is moving out of the family home, though. They're going to sell the house my father grew up in, which will probably be bulldozed along with the meticulously kept garden in the back yard. People are getting old. My parents are getting old. And that means I am too, which freaks me out more than a little. Look at me, I work overtime and renew my car registration and plan out my second year of education. I'm not 15 or 16 or 17 any more, and I never will be again. Time is such a brutal, relentless beast.

It makes me wonder what I have to show for it. My musical/instrumental skills, something I used to cherish and practice so intensely, have gone all to hell. Same as the relationships with the people I went to elementary/high school with for 9 years. But I can kinda draw now. I can build a computer from scratch, and replace a dead car battery. I know how to use selective colour in Photoshop to balance out the inherent magenta hue from the florescent photo table. I can use writing to be long-winded and cathartic. I can work 80hrs a week for 15 consecutive weeks. I can... Flawlessly wind hundreds of sensor springs without screwing up a single one.

Is that it? Is that all I've got to show for myself for 1/15th of my life expectancy? And me, here, now. Is this the best I can do for being 1/3 of the way through my existence? Where are all the glorious adventures and exciting experiences and all-around awesome things I expected to be doing by now?

Looking back at me of five years prior, it's so easy to point out how dumb and clueless I was. It's harder to admit, though, how dumb and clueless I still am. Especially over the last year or so it's become obvious how little of the world I can see and understand, even comprehend. It's like I'm wearing horse blinders or something. Walking around in a fog. Driving a 20-year-old Honda around in the dark and rain, straining to see the unfamiliar road ahead through the streaks left by old and decrepit windshield wipers.

It's a crappy realization to stumble upon. One part disheartening, two parts frightening. I'm a male in his mid-twenties. Shouldn't I be on top of the world, having all sorts of adventures, conquering whatever gets in my way and forming a foundation for a happy future? Foundations need terrain to excavated before they can be laid down. Some days it feels like I'm just diggin'.

There's still lots of time to have adventures, right? So what, maybe I'm pissing away what many consider to be the best time of a person's life. I still have the majority of my life ahead of me, and I can turn things around and make things alright. The world will keep rolling, so maybe I should roll with it and take things as they come. Maybe things will get better. Maybe they won't. Maybe I just oughtta shut my trap and keep on keepin' on.
-Cril

The pages of the calendar
Are flyin' off faster as I get old
And if I had a second take
I'd wanna make the same mistakes
Except for the clothes

And the part about the one that got away
When I was blind I fell behind
And here I've gotta stay

And I'm lying here wonderin'
Is it finally sinkin' in
To my weary heart, my foolish pride
And my stubborn head

I woke up on the right side, I woke up on the right side
On the right side of the wrong bed

Smash Mouth - Right Side, Wrong Bed

Cruising Altitude - Games and Such

2010-08-26T19:58:00.003-06:00

And now, a break from your regularly-scheduled angst/anxiety-ridden blog posts.

One of the great things about being a video game enthusiast is that the medium still in a period of rapid growth. I hesitate to say infancy - it's certainly come a long way from even five years ago, but there's still an unbelievable amount of potential to unlock and distance to travel. But witnessing the strides this form of entertainment makes can be so engrossing and rewarding. Every once in a while, you can't help but say "WOW!" And I'm not talking about some lame old MMO, either. Moments where, if you hadn't been sitting down (as you tend to be for playing games), you'd be knocked clean off your feet. It's not where you think to yourself, "Huh, that's pretty neat" and move on. It happens when you legitimately have a hard time believing what just transpired in front of your eyes as a result of a finely-crafted experience and the direct input of you, the player. It's a rather rare sensation, but for me at least, it comes along infinitely more often than I find in literature or cinema. I think it has to do with the immersion created by the constant input and focus needed to partake in games. But the whole books vs. movies vs games topic is it's own beast. My point is that there are moments in my digital adventures and travels that I stumble on something that truly amazes me - as a credit to fine craftsmanship and/or technological developments.

Earlier in the year I stumbled across Wings of Prey - a great WWII combat flight sim. Because of my deep-routed addiction to all things WWII (particularly pertaining to the aircraft of the time), I quickly fell in love with the game. While I really wanted a sequel to Jane's WWII Fighters (a title I was particularly smitten with while in high school), Wings of Prey turned out to be fantastic. Sure, the DRM is garbage and it sucks that I needed a separate gaming e-commerce service in addition to Steam installed to run it rather sucked - I wish I would've researched it before the purchase. But aside from that? What a gorgeous game, with solid mechanics, and, most importantly, a great selection of planes that are meticulously detailed. Anyways, on to the point.

The Eastern European theater, 1944, flying a night mission for the Soviets in a Ilyushin Il-2. Me and my squad started off quite a ways from the hot zone, so on the way I took the leisurely time to climb up to about 15,000 feet before leveling out. Set course, and cruised for a while at around 300KM/H. It was dark and overcast - the odd snowflake drifted by, illuminated by the partial light cast from an obscured moon. Engine thrumming along. Hypnotic. Relaxing, even. Then 1-2-3 - beams of light are cast up vertically from the ground. 5-6-7, they keep appearing. "That's pretty neat," I think. I watch the search lights comb around the sky, darting this way and that. I'm so high up I can't even begin to see the ground below around the nose of the plane, so I roll over to see if I can spot where the beams are coming from. And just like that, FWOOSH! The cockpit is absolutely bathed in light. I'm totally blinded and can't make out anything on the dash while the projected shadows from the canopy supports move across the interior. "Wow, just wow." So, like an idiot, I take a second to let it all in - the dynamic lighting and small details, like how the light makes the tiny scratches and grime on the windshield so obvious. And then the flak starts. At first it's an odd pop here and there - I roll over to see what's going on, and watch the explosions burst against the dark sky. Pops turn to thuds as the AA fire is closing in. Looking out to starboard, I can see that my wing and fuselage is making a massive cast silhouette against the search light that is still following me. "Well, that'd explain the flak." Pitch the nose down and punch the throttle. I dive for a few seconds and then level out. The searchlight is frantically tracing it's way to my current position, being anticipated with aggressive flak closing in. One more bursts right ahead - the plane rocks, the side of my canopy is scarred, and there seems to be a smoking at the base of the right wing. Ok, enough screwing around. Lord only knows where the rest of the flight is, but I put the nose down, all the way down, and punch the engine into WEP. I go hard. I'm pressing 400KM/H before I know it, and the altimeter looks like it's having a spasm as the number it displays starts to shrink. 470KM/H, 11,000 feet. Keep going. 550KM/H, 8000 feet. The wind is screaming around the torn up metal of the wing. 680KM/H, 6000 feet. The whole plane is starting to shudder and vibrate. Acceleration is dropping as I get closer to my terminal velocity. I don't want to find out how fast that is. Wrench back on the stick and cut the throttle. The plane growns, and I keep pulling back. I finally level out around 2000 feet, and I'm slowing down to cruising speed. I look around and there's nothing but black. The lights are gone, along with any bearing on where my squad is. All I see are vague, morphing silhouettes from the scattered moonlight. Wow. Just, wow.

The rest of the mission was slightly less remarkable, but good nonetheless. The clouds parted, and there was a dogfight with planes against a full moon. Part of it was a rodeo to shoot down German transport planes before they reach their landing strip. It can be tough hunting in the dark, but when the moonlight reflects off the shiny metal wings your position is immediately broadcast.

After that initial waltz with the searchlight and flak I realized I was clenching my teeth. Man, that was good - and intense - stuff. It was hard to realize I had witnessed all that from home, sitting in a desk chair.

The next 'wow' moment happened in Battlefield Bad Company 2. A quick word about the game - the single player campaign was decent, but fairly unremarkable. It was trying WAY to hard to be Modern Warfare. Some of the characters, while a bit cliche, were pretty amusing though. The multiplayer, is well balanced, and I mean tight experience. I think it's the best multiplayer experience I've had since Team Fortress 2. I'd take it any day of the week over CoD multiplayer, which seems like a mediocre deathmatch in comparison. Anways, on with the show.

I had been playing off an on for a month, logging in maybe two or three hours every other week as I could squeeze them in around homework. Anyways, I was playing with a friend, and we were defending this barnhouse come hell or high water. Nothing could shake us loose. At one point the other team changes tactics, and they start to divert, perpendicular to our location, across to an alternate objective. I was in the loft/attack with my assault rifle, and I was taking quick pot-shots out of this small window that was positioned just high enough to be uncomfortable, restricting my line of fire. The terrain outside was hilly with lots of brush - I didn't want to go down a floor and lose my vantage point. If only I could make that window a tad bit larger... Well, duh. So I stepped back to the opposite corner of the room, took out my grenade launcher, and blew myself a gigantic hole where that old, tiny window was. PROBLEM FIXED. Of course, along with this (now unrestricted) view at an ideal vantage point came the problem of being more exposed to incoming fire. But I made do with my handiwork, and I was able to mop up a squad or two that was crossing the battlefield.

My wow moment occurred right when I walked up to the gaping hole in the wall I had just put there seconds earlier. Sure, the game looks good - the explosion was purdy, what with debris and smoke and all. But I distinctly remember thinking to myself, "This changes EVERYTHING!". Think of it in terms of gameplay. Previously video game environments had been immovable, static obstacles. And manipulation of this was either carefully planned cinematic events or rather gimmicky mechanics for expanding a line of sight. Now, though, the player can (in a way) tailor the environment to suit his immediate tactical needs. And, of course, the ramifications are obvious. As soon as you make that hole and use it, you've immediately traded off line of sight for protected cover. It's a most simplistic balance that makes it that much more effective as a multiplayer element. Prior to that, sure, I'd seen lots of environment mutilation in the game. I thought it was gorgeous. But there, in the loft, it clicked. As I stepped back to take the shot I thought to myself, "No, are you serious? This couldn't possibly work..." I don't know what else I could've expected - I knew quite well what a 40mm grenade launcher will do to the side of a house. But it wasn't until I fired and surveyed the damage that it really struck home what power this had to really change how the game is played. It's an axis of exploration I had no idea was plausible - I'd never really seen it done in a game before. But there it was, and it's like I could see this extra dimension to gameplay that was previously invisible.

Aside from Starcraft II, which while decent didn't have its own wow moment, the only other significant game I played this summer has been Assassin's Creed II. As a whole, I don't have a lot to report. I was a fan of the first title, and I found this one to be an incredible refinement on the formula. There weren't any huge eye-opening features, but it was such a fantastic evolvement of the series that just felt... Perfect. Well, like all games it has its faults, but overall it's a great title. Anyways, my wow moment came from recognizing my surroundings. As odd as that sounds.

I had an amazing professor for my first semester of Art History. She was incredibly enthusiastic and had the best asides and random anecdotes. She talked fast, painfully so as far as taking sufficient hand-written notes are concerned, but her class was so entertaining and engaging. She told a story of how she once went to Florence, and arrived at night exhausted and suffering from jet lag. They logged into a hotel, and went to bed. In the morning, she went to open the window, and right outside was this white statue against a blue background. It was part of a series that lined the entire building. She freaked out. This was some famous hospital/orphanage by some famous artist/architect of the proto-renaissance (what can I say, I'm a terrible art history student. I do great on the exams, but once they're over the information I've memorized vaporizes and is never heard from again).

So there I was, plugging away at Assassin's Creed II in Florence. I was on some assassination mission (as assassin's tend to do), and had just killed the target and was fighting off half a dozen guards. Then I realized, "Hey, those small white statues on blue backgrounds with the shuttered windows sure look familiar...WOW." It hit me that I've seen this place before. It's a real place. I've studied it. At some point I even know what it was called and who designed it. It blew my mind. It's the last thing you expect to find in a video game. Sure, some play tribute to real life locations, such as GTA and Liberty City/New York, but as a whole you grow accustomed to roaming around entirely fictitious environments. This faithfully recreated real-life location felt like a smack upside the head. One of the reasons I fell in love with the Assassin's Creed franchise is that, in addition to the engaging alternate/dystopian story, the games explored lesser-used settings. What's the last game you played that took place in Middle Ages Middle East or Renaissance Italy? But that moment where I realized I was battling and running around the rooftops of a faithful digital replica of an authentic real-world location kinda blew me away.

While not a game, the other noteworthy piece of entertainment I partook of this summer was seeing Iron Man 2. Kidding, that was total crap. Inception, on the other hand, was great. I don't know if I had the same kind of "WOW" moment, but I can say that by the end I was pretty amazed at what had just transpired. The same kind of effect I got from seeing The Matrix or Fight Club for the first time - you feel like the world has just been turned on its head, and you know you just witnessed something unique. The concept was cool, the score was fantastic, the action was well done, and the story was original. There wasn't one single thing that blew my mind into itty-bitty parts, but I was really engaged from start to end. It felt like I was holding my breath the whole time, the whole movie was so incredibly suspenseful. I found the dreams-within-dreams to be quite straight forward, but some of the mechanics involving the dreamer/architect seem a bit fuzzy. Whether or not "reality" is actually a dream is an intriguing notion, which was obviously implemented in such a way as to foster debate. Overall, it's the best movie I've seen this summer. Sorry Toy Story, you were really good too and gave me some funny allergies that resulted in some misty eyes and an odd lump in my throat. It's hard to compare the two movies. They have next to nothing in common. But Inception really left me feeling like I had just seen something really special.

The only other thing that comes to mind, entertainment-wise, is that I played through Left 4 Dead 2, which felt much like Assassin's Creed 2 in regards to the prequel. It's a finer, better tuned experience that feels more flushed out. No big "WOW" moments here (Valve, baby, you know I still loves you, right?), but it was a solid game. The bots can be kinda dumb ("WHY WON'T USE PICK UP THE MEDKIT?!") and I kinda like the cast of characters from the first one a bit more. Ellis is pretty good, though.

And with the summer coming to a close, I probably won't get to make my way through anything else for the next four months. I kinda wanted to try Mass Effect. I got it for cheap on Steam, but I don't have the time to play through a whole game before school starts, so I won't bother. I also tried Red Faction Guerrilla, which was optimized so poorly it was barely playable.

Hrm, this is pressing 2500 words. I should prolly call 'er quits. Please excuse the poor spelling/grammer. I've corrected quite a few, but I have the sneaking suspicion it isn't anywhere near enough.
-Cril

God is an Astronaut - Ascend to Oblivion

Sitting by the fire and watching it burn

2010-08-22T16:30:00.002-06:00

And so it starts. The back-to-school pit in the stomach. More like a weight, if you ask me. But yeah - I'm at the two-and-a-half week mark to being back at school. Bleh, not looking to it forwards to it too much. Well, truth be told, I got in phases. "Yeah, I think this year will be alright." I won't be working on the side, so I should have time to make things happen. And "I'm not so sure about this... Can I do it?" Five studio courses. FIVE. Thirty hours of classes a week. Last year, a design studio had about 5-10hrs of homework for each class. And I won't be working. How am I going to get by? So many variables and IF equations, so few solutions or formulas. I was offered a peer tutoring position, which I kinda want to accept. It'll make me feel useful. But do I have time? How will I manage? Ugh.
/anxieties

My last week, entertainment-wise, has gone a bit like this. Play/finish Starcraft II (aliens vs marines), play a round of Alien Swarm (aliens vs marines), watch Aliens II (aliens vs marines and Sigourney Weaver). Lots of aliens and marines within a 72hr period. I don't really have a point to this, I just thought it was an interesting coincidence - something I hadn't planned at all.

So... Starcraft II... I'm simultaneously satisfied and let down. Good story, that's for sure. Great universe and plot events with intriguing characters. Cool visuals and art direction, solid gameplay. On the other hand, it's the same solid gameplay I've seen ten years ago with the first Starcraft. It's VERY similar. The script/dialogue is kinda... Weak. There's no finesse or subtlety - everything feels very deliberate and obvious so that the play knows what's going on. As for the climax and end of Wings of Liberty... I feel that some parts weren't quite fleshed out and I'm feeling a bit unsatisfied. But I want to know MORE. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? Overall, I got lots of mixed feelings. As someone who's primarily in it for the single player campaign, I feel safe in saying that $60 doesn't quite feel appropriate for the experience. It's a good game, but not THAT good. Something is lacking. I suppose the multiplayer is supposed to be the big draw, but that ain't quite up my ally.

My laptop is acting kinda weird. When I boot it up, even before it hits Windows, I get a quick blue screen. Then it takes me to a screen where I can choose to analyze the issue or go straight to Windows. I analyze, and get absolutely nothing of use. It mentions that I should disconnect and new hardware I've added. Which is nothing. I wonder if it has anything to do with the hackintoshing. The only thing I can think of is that I had to enable hardware virtualization in the BIOS in order to install OSX. Bleh. I just don't know. I can't really bring myself to figure it out. I'm just so fatigued. I'm thinking I should maybe use the $900 I saved by not getting a Mac, and find a cheap-o used Macbook Pro in the classifieds that I can use for a semester or two before selling it. I just don't got a lot of fight left in me these days.

I finished up my ABC's. There might be a half-dozen letters I'm not quite happy with, but as a whole I think I produced some good stuff. If nothing else, it totally gave me enough fuel for drawing, period. It's amazing, after I finished the alphabet set, drawing became such a chore. I have such a tough time deciding on what to draw. But I did, eventually, finish my 100 sketches. Not that you can tell by looking at my Flickr feed - I have a bit of a backlog to upload. I need to stop being so lazy.

But, to my credit, I've had a productive couple weeks at work. I got through a big project on my own, that I anticipated would take much longer even with the help of some coworkers. But it's all done. And I bought some shoes and jeans yesterday too. Did I mention I hate shopping? Le sigh.

I'm done Starcraft II, and I'm not going to draw anymore past the 100 sketches, unless I feel particularly inclined. I think I'm entering the 'totally petrified of losing my mind' phase, and I'm pulling back a bit where I can. Two and a half weeks before it all goes to hell anyways. Why bother? Anyways, hopefully I can get some other odds figured out before the end of the summer. Need to figure out my laptop and parking, among other things. Upload the rest of the sketches. Play with the new camera. Play some music, write some more, go for a run, laser the laptop.

The time. She ticks.
-Cril

You break a few bones, you break a few nails
It's like you set me down when you set your sails
You send a few letters but they're never enough
It gets rough, every time you leave me alone

I don't do so good on my own
I need a telescope, not a telephone
Stray cat strutting through a snowy backyard
It gets hard, every time you pick up and go

Joel Plaskett - Every Time You Leave

Playin' with this bow and arrow

2010-08-15T21:25:00.003-06:00

I just went for another run. I don't know why, but I did. And you know what? This exercise thing kinda works. My breathing and stamina were significantly better this time around than last week. It's rather surprising how much of an improvement there was, even considering I'm only out there for a half hour or so. Maybe there's something to this whole "getting in shape" thing you keep hearing about these days.

Summer is winding down, and it's like a weight on my shoulders. Pressing harder and harder with each day. So much to do. At work I'm in charge of merging content from one, larger website into an existing smaller one. It's straight forward - there are some bugs and hiccups along the way, but you learn to recognize and tiptoe around most of the pitfalls. The work itself is easy. But it's too easy. Incredibly monotonous and boring, even to the part where I find myself falling asleep. So I've found a secret weapon - WATCHING TV LOLOLOLOL. Once everyone leaves for the day and it's just me left, I put some Daily Show/Colbert Report on one monitor, and chug away. And I kid you not, it feels like my productivity jumps through the roof. It's probably one part keeping my brain stimulated/alert and one part working extra hard to offset the guilt of watching TV while I'm on the clock. But the last two or three days I've done this I've moved incredible amounts of data over. I can't believe how effective it is. It's keeping me distracted from the fact that I'm otherwise bored out of my mind or tired or overwhelmed by all the other crap I need to get done once I get home.

Speaking of which, I've knocked one thing off my list - hackintoshing my laptop. Just completed that today. It took me a good three or four hours, but most of that involved figuring out how VMWare ticks. If something is royally screwed up and I have the need to do it all over, I could probably accomplish it in under an hour. It's surprisingly simple. Mind you, I've used OSX for all of ten minutes. Enough to find out that my wifi works (yay!) but not my sound (boo!). There's probably a lot of other troubleshooting to do, and I'll need to install some standard Adobe programs to see if they work at all. But to be honest... I have zero interest in using it. I just couldn't care less - I have it installed, can I just forget that it's there?

Actually, this is the case for my whole laptop. I don't like it. Well, I do like it. It's a great unit, and I can't wait to laser it and put it to good use once I start school. But maybe it's the old grumpy man in me, but I don't like having a laptop. It's definitely a useful contraption, but... I like my computer. Two big screens, a proper keyboard and mouse, etc etc. I dunno. Just the concept of owning a laptop fails to excite me.

I'm in desperate need of new jeans and shoes. My shoes are being held together by no less than 4 different kinds of tape at the moment. But I cannot describe the absolute empty void for where my enthusiasm for shopping is stored. I can't even stand buying stuff online these days. So much crap is peddled to my face, so little of it I actually want. I don't care if it's for games or technology or toys or tools, there isn't a store I want to go to right now. I checked out the Lego store the other week, just because I've never seen one before. Neat place. The idea of going into a mall with the intent of spending money makes me want to vomit, however.

My brother is in the process of shopping for cars. I'm terrible at car shopping - I always do it in too much of a hurry. But I find it kinda fun. There are so many POSSIBILITIES. Sure, sifting through classifieds and different sites can be rather tedious, but there's something about entertaining the idea of a new car you stumble across. Opportunities investigated and passed, and opportunities seized that leave you wondering what if? Remind me, I should tell you about a certain BMW 325IS some time.

One of the only two air-worthy Avro Lancasters was in Calgary the other day. Its flightpath for landing at the airport was directly over the office. My word, what a gorgeous sight and soul-shaking sound. You see something like that, and you know that you just witnessed something special. Something you'll never forget. Such a beastly, yet elegant, image. Seeing something like that really alters the foundation of your being. It's the kind of thing best left to the poets and dreamers of the world to describe. But it certainly makes you wonder what it would've been like to see formations with hundreds of Lancasters flying overhead. The sound must've been incredible. And now there's only two left.

Anyways, that's all I got for now. I've actually completed all my ABC's, but I have quite the backlog to post to Flickr. I'm getting near the end of my goal for 100 sketches by the end of summer, but now that the alphabet project is done it feels like I've lost a lot of steam. How frusterating. I'm this close to not having to draw for the rest of the summer. And then I start again in three weeks. Yeehaw.
-Cril

From this time unchained
We're all lookin' at a different picture
Through this new frame of mind
A thousand flowers could bloom
Move over and give us some room, yea

Portishead - Glory Box

Demons for Every Day

2010-08-08T21:47:00.003-06:00

I did something odd yesterday. I went for a jog. In the rain. During a thunderstorm. The weirdest part? I went for a jog. I can't say that I've ever gone for a run of my own accord - the last time I can recall doing such a thing was in Grade 11 for Physical Education class. Ah, bad memories. I wonder what brought me to do it all of the sudden. It felt good, in a hot, sweaty, twitching and sore muscles kinda way. Maybe I should do it again sometime, so I can pretend I'm not morbidly obese. I'm kidding about that last part, of course. It's so I can pretend I have some sort of muscular matter draped over my scrawny frame.

I'm standing in a precarious position at the moment. I'm stuck between trying to get more hours in at work so that don't go broke in the middle of school versus spending some time at home and trying to knock items off of an ever-growing list of To Do's. On one hand, I think that logging more time in at work and keeping my head down will make the transition back into school less jarring - I'll already be in crazy-go-nuts work mode. On the other hand, I'm worried I might end up stuck just with the crazy-go-nuts part. I'm feeling like I'm stretched out too far as is, and I'm worried if I'll crack sometime during the next five months. I can wait for Christmas, right? Even then, won't I want to take the Christmas break to get some work in? Where does the cycle end? Where does it begin, for that matter? I haven't worked a standard 40hr week since I was in the spring semester and doubling up work with classes. "The dog days of summer". Heh.

One of my goals for the summer is to complete 100 sketches. The sketch-a-day has gone all to hell, but this one thing is attainable and won't leave me feeling too guilty once the fall rolls around. Right now I'm up to sketch 78 - I have a bit of a backlog to upload to Flickr. Anyways, to help me stay focused and keep banging off those sketches I'm working on a series. THE ALPHABET! Of things I like, one for each letter. I just finished up P, and tomorrow I do Q. Which is a problem, because I have absolutely no idea what to use for that letter. I'll need to think on it tomorrow during work.

I stumbled upon an interesting article this week. The entire thing is a good read, but I found this particular quote of interest: "Perhaps, you only learned how to memorize names, places, and dates to later on forget in order to clear your mind for the next test." This articulated something that I really struggle with. I have managed to wire my brain for tests - I can soak up and recall a lot of accurate information in a short time span. After my exam is done, though, I lose 90% of it. Which is a bit of a bummer - I learned a lot of neat stuff in Art History over the last year. But I've retained very little of it. Just little snippets and half-ideas. It rather worries me. But now I know it isn't necessarily an abysmal memory, but just one that's rigged to work a certain way. Which is a shame.

So, I went to a family reunion last week. A few days before, my flew into town so we could hang out a bit and then drive down together. Except my car died. His flight just landed, so I locked up the office, got in the car, and.. Nothing. Several jump starts later (from my uncle), we went for dinner and then home. Trickle charged the battery over night, and in the morning... Nothing. Got a jump and drove to Canadian Tire. Bought a battery and a decent set of jumper cables (one of those things I should probably own), and went out to the dead automobile. Of course, my crappy little emergency kit had an imperial socket set and the car was metric. So back into the store to throw $50 down on a basic imperial AND metric set. Go out, replace the battery, and it works fine voila. I figured I hit two important milestones. First, the rite of passage for any motorist - I made a repair in a Canadian Tire parking lot. The second, is that I bought tools. Yes, that was my first time buying tools evar. I know, It's all sorts of pathetic considering how old I am and have never bought hand tools before. Anyways, some $200 later the car is fixed and made the road trip just fine. S'all good.

School starts in... Exactly a month. Oh boy. And the last hours of the weekend have already withered away. There's so much to be done, and summer's already gone. What am I to do?
-Cril

When I counted up my demons
Saw there was one for every day
With the good ones on my shoulders
I drove the other ones away

So if you ever feel neglected
And if you think that all is lost
I'll be counting up my demons, yeah
Hoping everything's not lost

Coldplay - Everything's Not Lost

Persistance of Memory

2010-08-02T19:53:00.002-06:00

I just got back from a Family Reunion that happened this weekend. It was... Interesting. Aside from my immediate family (Grandparent, uncles/aunts, cousins), I can't say I remembered any faces. Well, I vaguely recalled a great uncle and aunt, but that was about it. This reunion was in the same location as one I went to fifteen years ago. It was pretty surreal. I didn't remember faces or names so much as... Snippets. I recalled watching The Lion King in the house, playing in the sandpit, and fetching some alcohol when I was really after some pop. Is that normal? Do people usually remember places and things rather than names and faces?

Anyways. I was sitting at work, plugging away at some website content. Got to Get You Into My Life (by the Beatles, of course) popped up on my iPod. I love the wind instruments in the song. A bit of trumpet fanfare backed up by a repeated theme on the sax. At near the end, everything fades out and back in around a quick guitar solo. So I have musical reasons for having it in my collection. But I was sitting there, something was niggling at the back of my brain. Like I had an itch in my memory. So as I tend to do so well, I sat there and scratched it. I pulled up some window that made it look like I was waiting for a file to save while I sat at my desk and pondered this song. I didn't even know what I was looking for. But whatever it was, it wouldn't come. So I got up to fetch some stock from the warehouse, and BAM! GRAPE JELLY ON RICE CAKES!

No, seriously. That's what I was searching for. Waaaay back when I lived on the northern BC coast, I listened to that song from my dad's collection (I can picture the cassette tape in my head right now) while eating a rice cake slathered in grape jelly. Back then I was allergic to lots of things. Wheat, potato, corn, yeast, milk, you name it. But not rice. So I ate a lot of rice in its various forms, including cakes. And grapes, being one of the few fruits I was simply less allergic to, I'd have as jam. I don't even remember liking the stuff, to be honest. But I guess you have to go with what you got. Also attached to that memory is looking out of the smallish dining room window as it rained, watching water pour downhill on the dirt road. I may have even been wearing hand-socks (for those of you less knowledgeable with such fine garments, when I was a wee kid I used to wear socks on my hands when my skin was particularly bad. Something about covering up the nastier spots felt more comfortable. It's probably why I usually stick to long sleeves or seldom wear sandles to this day).

So the obvious question is... Why? This memory seemed to be dropped on me like a ton of bricks. And the sudden fascination with uncovering it when that song played, I couldn't just put it out of my mind until I had it figured out. And why did it come to my mind then? My iTunes library says I've already listened to it some 70 times. Does it have some kind of meaning for whatever I'm doing now? Is it just because I was about to leave for the family reunion anyways? It really, truly baffles me.

This weekend that great uncle I semi-recall told me about the last reunion at that place, in 1995. I wouldn't have even been 10 by that age. He said he remembers how bad my skin was, and how it broke his heart to see how much it tormented me.

But what does it all mean? It's kinda funny - hearing my great uncle tell it to me like that kinda broke my heart a little bit too.
-Cril

I was alone, I took a ride,
I didn't know what I would find there
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there

Ooh, then I suddenly see you,
Ooh, did I tell you I need you
Every single day of my life

You didn't run, you didn't lie
You knew I wanted just to hold you
Had you gone, you knew in time, we'd meet again
For I had told you

Ooh, you were meant to be near me
Ooh, and I want you hear me
Say we'll be together every day

Got to get you into my life

What can I do, what can I be,
When I'm with you I want to stay there
If I'm true I'll never leave
And if I do I know the way there

Ooh, then I suddenly see you,
Ooh, did I tell you I need you?
Every single day of my life

Got to get you into my life
Got to get you into my life

I was alone, I took a ride,
I didn't know what I would find there
Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there

Then suddenly I see you,
Did I tell you I need you?
Every single day...

Beatles - Got to Get You Into My Life

A Bit Detached

2010-07-18T19:32:00.003-06:00

Life's feelin' surreal. I slept into 11 this morning. 11. The best I can figure, the last time I even slept in past 10 was about a year ago. Alarm clock or no, I always become conscious at 7:30, and then I doze in 40minute spurts. But I slept clean through to an hour before noon. What's up with that? I'm not even running on a massive deficit of sleep, either. Maybe I'm sleepwalking.

But aside from a few extra hours of sleep, I'm just not feelin'... Right. Like I'm a rowboat tethered with a long rope to the dock at reality. I still feel somewhat attached to the world, but I'm just kinda drifting around. I go to work each day and can put in a solid 10hrs of productivity. When it comes to personal time, nothing feels right. Draw, read, game, walk, whatever. I'm just kinda watching it all waltz by in front of me. What's up with that?

I watched Insomnia and Donnie Darko this weekend, and I'm pretty sure that didn't help at all. Both great films, but they themselves have certain elements of surrealism that I find to have a rather intense effect on my brain. My mind feels like putty. Easily warped and shaped, but has problems keeping its own form for a while.

Following a prompting from El Franko, I went for a drive. I went... North, and a lil' bit west, and more north again. I followed some quiet highways right down the middle of some farmland. I could go for five or six minutes without passing another single soul on the road. It was nice - I had a grin on my face the whole time. I didn't look at the clock at all. Well, I did, but what I saw had zero bearing on anything. It's 2:45. So what? So I kept going. I just drove. And shot some pics along the way. Most of which were overexposed. I was hoping to get my new (used) camera by now, but no such luck.

But it was incredible - I'd stop and get out to do some shooting. A fencepost or field that caught me attention. It kinda sucks - when you're doing 100km/h you don't really have the opportunity to stop suddenly for that dirt road that looked promising. Anyways, I'd stop and get out. You can see for miles and miles, and the best part is that the only sound is the wind through the grass. Maybe some crickets. Even as I'm sitting here typing there's the constant tide of vehicles surging down the road and jets taking off at the airport. There's always unnatural ambient noise in the city. Always. But it's not the case in the middle of nowhere. It was rather refreshing.

Of course, the problem with doing something so unusual when you're already feeling a bit absent-minded tends to exacerbate the issue. I'll be in bed in two to three hours, and then my weekend will be over. Where did it go? Did I ever even have it in the first place?

Maybe I'm too busy waiting. I'm not thinking about today or yesterday or even tomorrow. It's gotta be school in the fall. I work to save for it, I've spent the better part of the last month figuring out laptops for it. I've spent the entirety of the last three months worrying about it.

The funny thing is that the overdrive mode I put myself into for school still has a bit of a hold on me. I have lists of movies to watch and books to read. I get through them as fast as I can. I get some enjoyment out of them along the way, but I'm always concerned with getting them done. Bang, bang, bang. I just recently unlocked all the weapons in Bad Company 2. Great! So I pick up Team Fortress 2 for the first time in a long time, and over the course of a week I earn all of the unlocks for the Soldier, Demo, and Engineer. The Wrangler for the Engineer was the last item. I got a lucky kill when netted me two achievements and the unlock. I kid you not, I play for all of 5 more minutes (now with my new toy) before I close the program. I sit there and stare at my installed games, and hop between two or three before calling it quits for the night. It occurs to me a day or two later that I'm treating my games as work. Play and work towards x goals, and once I'm done, that's it. Close the program, move on. How bizarre and unsettling. Mostly unsettling.

So here I am writing another post. Then I gotta call home, then make a lunch for tomorrow. Always one more thing to do. Bang, bang, bang. But I still feel like that boat. Drifting out until the line snaps tight. Float up close and bump into the dock. Never really quite knowing what's going on or having power over it.
-Cril

Philip Glass - Morning Passages

Fresh Fruit - An Afterword

2010-07-14T20:38:00.002-06:00

I just have a few other tidbits that have come to mind since that last post that I want to get off my chest before I bury the hatchet and speak of it no more. First though, it might be worth mentioning that I penned 3100 words, which took me just over an hour. It was going to be three hours, until I discovered that I somehow managed to put my system time ahead by 120minutes. Go figure. Anyways, I think 3100 words is longer than any assignments I've done in the past year. But that's more of a statement about the sad state of affairs for the ACAD liberal studies. But anyways, on with the show.

I now have exactly two less reasons to knock Macs. The first being Steam, the second being StarCraft 2. I consider myself a bit of a gamer, and it'd seem kinda stupid to go with a system that wouldn't allow me to play my favourite titles. With Steam (and Valve games in particular) available, I can't really argue that point any more. Mind you, considering it's stupid easy to install Windows on a Mac anyways may void my entire thesis for this one.
Second, which should have been included as a disclaimer, I'm incredibly biased in favour of Windows. It may have something to do with the fact that I've used it as my primary OS since 3.1. I've probably been using it since I've been six or seven. That isn't to say I'm ignorantly oblivious to its faults - even right now I can't get my tablet to work at all. Which is a shame, because I was looking forward to drawing Vader's helmet tonight.
Steve Jobs just rubs me the wrong way. I can't say why. I know it's popular to knock Bill Gates, but the man is lovable geek. Watch him in interviews - you can tell he's a total nerd that still kinda uncomfortable with public speaking and attention. Jobs, on the other hand... Strikes me as a slimey and arrogant car salesman. He's wildly intelligent, I'll give him that. But I don't like him.
I'm done with iPods. Once my Touch finally bites the biscuit (is that even a saying?), I'm going to get... I have no idea, actually. But I want it to sync with SongBird, which is a great iTunes replacement. Sure, I'd love some basic apps and web support, but I'll be okay with just a video/music player. I seldom use the other features anyways. It's a bummer, though, that you can't really find another competitively-priced PDA that isn't a smarthphone with hella expensive data plan. I miss Palm.
I just want to say one more time that Apple makes great stuff. The iPod Touch's interface and design is so sleek and sexy and intuitive. Macs are built well and are equally well engineered. It's just the company itself I have issues with. Their marketing, their pricing, their policies... They really turn me off. You can argue whether or not this iPhone 4 antenna thing is a real issue or not, but you kinda have to agree that Apple could've done a better job handling it. Telling consumers that no, in fact you don't have any problem at all, and deleting forum threads discussing the issue doesn't quite seem as classy as what they sell. Reminds me of Toyota. Make good quality stuff, but it's kinda overshadowed by some rather sleazy business practices.

So there we go, it's all off my chest. Now that you've been so thoroughly subjected to my long winded views on the matter I will mention it no more. Unless they do something really really dumb.
-Cril

Oliver Jones - Green Dolphin Street

How do YOU like dem Apples?

2010-07-11T14:49:00.007-06:00

So, Macs. It's something I've been mulling over for, well, more than a year now. When I went to the intro seminar for ACAD, they mentioned that laptops were mandatory, and that a Mac is pretty heavily recommended. A friend that accompanied me at the time told me that I'd end up getting a Mac, even though I wasn't particularly fond of them. I told her no thanks, but deep down there was a seed of doubt. I mean, there's no denying that Apple makes well engineered products, both in hardware and software. So I mulled it over while I did my first year of studies, and noted that 90% of the notebooks used were indeed Apple products. I've been building up lists of pros and cons in my head, rehearsing how I can articulate my thoughts in a clear manner. Let's give it a (long-winded) go, shall we?

My first Apple product was a 4GB iPod Mini - my first ever MP3 player. I fell in love with it - the touch wheel was fantastic, iTunes was intuitive, it was small, and let me carry around way more music than my CD Mp3 player I had been using. I paid $249 for it, if I recall correctly. I loved it, it went everywhere with me, and I can say without a doubt it's what got me through the last year of highschool. Then about eight months after I'd bought it, the batter died. Good thing it was covered by warranty - I got it replaced in quick fashion (kudos to Apple's support division). The few days in between sending out the old and receiving the new was occupied with a painfully clunky 512MB SanDisk player. But I got the new one. Woo! Six months later, the battery was fried. Because the warranty of the original iPod was long run out and the replacement (a refurb) was only covered for one month, I had to get this one fixed DIY style. $40 later, I had a new battery and replaced it. I mangled the case a bit, and aside from looking a bit nasty I had to use some masking tape to keep the top panel on. But it worked. Seven or so months later, the battery was starting to go again.

But hark! What's this? The iPod Touch, a device of pristine sexiness. Look at the slim factor, amazing +20hr of battery life, internet/browser connectivity and that big and wonderful touch screen! You can't take it apart to replace the battery, but surely that issue has been resolved by now! It's kinda stupid that all I get in terms functionality is web, music, and videos, but that should be okay. They have those stupid lil' web apps that should keep me occupied in a pinch. Besides, with a device like that it must be a matter of time until proper OS-based apps arrive, right? Basically, I desperately wanted a device that melded the functionality of my Palm Zire 72 and my (rapidly expiring) iPod. So I paid ~$300 for the 8GB model and got me an iPod Touch. So sexy. The interface was brilliant. But the months rolled by, and no apps made an appearance. Apparently Apple had zero intention of bringing such a feature to the device. Well, that was stupid of me to purchase something like that without checking out the companies intentions. But it's pretty stupid of the company to have a device like that and rob it of the capability to run proper programs. What's this? There's a thing called 'jail breaking' that'll get me a bunch of cool (and free) games and utilities? But it'd void the warranty and there were stories of bricked iPods/iPhones. Then a few months down the road as jailbreaking was becoming incredibly popular, Apple delivers the AppStore. I raised my eyebrows at that one. Really, Apple? You only deliver what should be a no-brainer feature only after some hackers make it painfully obvious how valuable it is? Looking back, of course, the App Store must've been in development for some time, but still. Either way, I was elated! Horray! I'll finally get the basic programs iPhone users had (calendar, notes, calculator, maps, contacts) plus support for 3rd party apps and games, and they won't void my warranty! Where do I sign up? Oh, right here next to my credit card that'll get charged $10? Wait, what? Seriously, Apple? Especially for something so retarded obvious that 90% of early adopters were expecting?Who the hell charges for firmware updates? Especially when one of the components, the App Store, is made so that we can spend out money anyways? Wow, just wow. Palm never charged for firmware updates. I've never heard of Google, Microsoft, HP, Sony, Nintendo, Motorola or Nokia charging for firmware updates. In fact, the only other devices I can think of that charge for updates would be GPS devices. So I pirated that update. That's what I get for being an eager, early adopter. And right here is where I started to dislike Apple.

I hate their proprietary file formats for music and video. I've purchased a grand total of two albums from iTunes, and I will never do it again. iTunes has become increasingly clunky as the years roll by and my music library grows. I've grown to absolutely despise their secretive policies for application submissions, and how they continually lock out Flash from their mobile platforms so they can keep a tight reign on generating revenue from Apps. "But Flash is such a huge power drain on the battery!" SHOCKING! THIS JUST IN - USING PROGRAMS INCREASES POWER CONSUMPTION! If it wasn't about money, they'd let Adobe release a mobile version of Flash and let the performance results speak for themselves. But instead they skirt around the issue with half-answers and hide behind their incredibly secretive and one-sided application submission policy. This issue of total control and exclusivity is also kind of obvious in their aggressive stance on Google/Android and Microsoft, and their pursuit to prevent others from using (what many think to be) straight forward phone features. Funny, all this hoopla coming from a company that is "shameless about stealing good ideas".

Moving on from my rant-like state to give credit where credit is due - my iPods have been fantastic devices. My Touch is starting to die - every once in a while (I haven't figured out the rhyme or reason) it mysteriously gets quite warm and dumps 95% of its charge in about 10-15mins. It happened a few times within the 1yr warranty, but I was an idiot and thought it was an isolated incident. Now, just over two years after I got it, it's still truckin' along. The battery life is down to about 15hrs of music (what I primarily use it for), and any internet use really eats up remaining charge quickly. But again to reiterate - it's a well designed piece of technology. The interface is simple and incredibly intuitive (especially for sorting through music), and the form factor and bright display are still stunning. And the touch response and how it's implemented to browsing and interaction is brilliant.

But let's get down to the ugly topic about Apple. Let's face it folks, a large part of it is a social thing. It's the way capatalism works - whoever can hock their wares the best wins. And Apple has done a great job convincing the population that their products are, without a doubt, cool. But I can not stand their standard Mac vs PC ads. "Quick, let's advertise our products by attacking the competition using stereotypes and gross over-generalizations!" And yes, they're well done. They're funny. And they are, above all else, most definitely effective. But just because something is successful, it doesn't mean I need to like it. The buy American campaign has done a great job at keeping consumers coming back for years to buy cars from the big three North American manufacturers, even though their leadership is messed up, the products incredibly mediocre, and the Civic across the road was made by just as much by Americans in Ohio as that Chevrolet was made by Americans in Detroit. Perhaps it isn't the best analogy, but it gets the point across. Something effective isn't necessarily the most honourable way of doing business. But that's capitalism, and I recognize that. This is a personal, point-of-view issue, and ad firms working for Apple get paid well because they do a good job.

But back to that social thing. Okay, let me put it this way. Apple does the same thing in their advertisements against PC users, so I'm going to use that as an excuse to stereotype Apple users. This laser year at school has absolutely confirmed every negative notion assiciated with the ideas of the average, hip Mac owner. Thinks of themselves as fairly artistic and creative. Not very technically savvy. Thick-rimmed glasses. A love for expensive, freshly brewed caffeinated beverages with fancy names. You think I'm joking. Okay, cut out the 'artistic and creative' bit (you'll tend to find that at an art school). I can say about 80% of the Mac users at school drink expensive coffee and/or wear designer fashions, especially glasses (Mind you, going by that logic, if your eyesight has not decayed enough to warrant corrective lenses, you are more likely to drink coffee). I thought I'd give it a fair shot, so when I started school I talked to people I ran across using Macs and asked them why. They'd pretty much just paraphrase the PC vs Mac stories. I hate to break it to you, but I honestly can't recall the last time I've downloaded a virus. You see, I've used the internet more than twice and know that the "Free Smiley Pack" and "You are the 100,000th Visitor!" banners are going to give you a bit more than you bargained for. And that German website advertising FrEe GaMeS aNd WaRez with porn links in the sidebar? It may not be reputable. But in Windows nothing works and everything that does breaks easily! Uhm, no it doesn't. In fact, I just installed Windows 7 last week and was blown away at how streamlines and simple and stable things have been so far. But I won't gloss over it - sure, a Windows machine can take a bit of extra love once in a while to keep the gears turning. But I appreciate the fact that I know how to poke through a config file in Notepad and secretly enjoy getting up to my shoulders in a computer case. I think I have a better understanding of technology for it. But saying that this is an advantage over a Mac would be like saying you should buy a Volkswagon because you'll learn to be a great mechanic with all the time you'll end up spending under the hood.

But I'd tell those same people I asked about why they got a Mac about why I was hesitant about getting one, and their eyes kind of glaze over. Then they make some remark about how Microsoft copied everything good in Windows straight from the Mac. Which, as we know, is something Apple would never ever do. But not to oversimplify things to much, there are, of course, exceptions to the rule. My roomate is an exceptionally intellectual and technologically-savvy fellow, and his go-to machine is a Macbook Pro. My best Miami Pal Ever who writes technical/computer documentation also swears by Apple products, and used his shiny new iPhone 4 to record his son's birth.

I'm not saying this is universally true, I just think many people have Macs and people want Macs because they're cool. There's is definitely merit to the points of engineering and usability, but as a whole that's not what's moving product off shelves. I talked to many people at school not involved with software/computer-based programs (jewelry, painting, sculpture, etc) who use their Mac for taking notes and browsing Facebook. Wow, you consciously paid for a premium product to do tasks that absolutely every single netbook on the market can do just as well. Ok, fine, whatever - people have the right to get whatever they want with their money. I even bought Moby's Hotel dual-album. But as far as buying a computer because it's cool... I'm not a cool guy, I never have been, and I probably never will be. I take a certain amount of pride in being slightly off-kilter and antisocial. I guess you could say it's a desire to be different, which is exactly the reason many Apple owners buy what they do. So instead I side with the likes of Google or Microsoft, which almost everyone and their dog uses. I like to tell myself I have good reasons for choosing the way I do. But it really makes me wonder - if I was in a setting where Macs were not the norm, would I be more likely to get one?

But, ok. Let's take all this over-analyzation and incredible bias and put it aside. I like to think that I can be somewhat reasonable from time to time, and can take a look at the facts with an open perspective. I need a laptop for the next three years of school. The requirements say 2.54GHz processor and 4GB of RAM minimum. My personal requirement is that it needs at least 1000 vertical pixels. And I should get something reasonably portable with three years of extended warranty to see me through the end of my schooling.

My brother recommended to me the Lenovo ThinkPads, which are pretty decent, buisiness-quality laptops extensively used in the company where he works in IT. Ok, the T510 with discrete graphics and full HD screen looks like it'll fit the bill. It's only a 15.6" display so it'll have a pretty dense DPI, but I'm alright with that for the smaller form factor. I want it to last me, so I'm alright with spending a bit more on the specs to make a bit more powerful. We'll go with the 2.66GHz i7 processor, 4GB of RAM, 7200RPM 320GB HD, and (because my bro insists it's cool) I'll get the fingerprint scanner. Grand total is $2318. Thinkpad is one of those stupid stores that has a constant SALE! discounts to make you more likely to purchase, which knocks the price down to $1923. They like to offer other sales in addition to these, using any excuse they can find (Father's Day! Canada Day! 72 Hour Employee's Discount!), and a current sale knocks off another 25%. The grand total, if I order before July 12th, is $1524.50.

The school guidelines suggest a Macbook Pro. Ok, the only model with 1000px vertical is the 17", so let's take a look. Full disclosure - the 17" Pro has a 500GB HD and 1200px display as standard, so that means I'll be getting 180GB and 120px extra than the T510. It also has a funky magnetic power cord thingy and a webcam (WOOOOOWWWWW!) Configured the same with similar warranty, it comes to (wait for it)... $2848. "But Chris, what about the Educational discount?!". That knocks it down to $2617. "But you get a free 8GB iPod Touch (that won't require a paid-for firmware update... probably)!" Assuming I could sell it for full retail value, my net expense is $2398.

Which is a far cry from $1524.50. By $873.50. Even if you were to scratch Lenovo's Stupid Constant Marketing Sale and their Any Excuse for a Sale Sale, the Macbook Pro is still $80 more. Which, considering the extra 180GM/120px/webcam/powercord, is quite reasonable. The matte/non-glare screen, offered on the Mac but not Thinkpad, would probably even be worth the extra $47. But, my friends, these are not the circumstances. As far as I know, Macs seldom go on sale as is, and I'd be VERY hard pressed to find a sale that gets me more than $450 off (what I'm saving with the education discount and iPod Touch). Since I've started investigating the Thinkpads about a month and a bit ago, they've always had the Stupid Marketing sale and gone through at least three other 25% off or more sales.

To give you a really simple idea of what's going on here, let's look at one component - the processor. The heart, the brain, the center. The Macbook Pro and Thinkpad both come with the 2.53GHz Intel Core i5 as standard. And both have the option to upgrade to the same 2.66GHz i7. It costs $70 to add it to the Thinkpad. And how much for the Macbook (wait for it again)... $189. That's WITH the educational discount, by the way. It'd be $200 without. That's more than twice as much for the same. Friggin'. Part. As it turns out, you hear a lot about that "Apple Tax" thing for a reason.

I've taken a quick peak at the 15" models, official refurbs and buying a used Pro out of the classifieds, all of which are still slightly more expensive than a brand-new ThinkPad. I honestly, hand-on-heart, went into this with an open mind. I'm an incredibly dollar-oriented guy, and if the Mac was cheaper I would have thrown away my other reservations and gone for it. But I'm sorry, taking into account the Apple discounts and even discarding Lenovo's, it was a stupidly large difference. Add in the full sales, and Apple has gone FULL RETARD. $870 is a lot of money for, essentially, the same thing. It's more than 50% of the T510's value. With that money I can buy the entire Adobe CS5 Master Suite from school. Or I can save it, and it'll put me that much closer to a Porsche.

You see, it's that kind of a gap that makes me wonder why Macs sell as well as they do for as much as they do. It kind brings that 'cool' thing back into play, and the technologically clueless stereotype. I'm not saying it applies to everyone. I know people who know exactly what they're buying and for what reasons. $870. It's kind of boggling.

My only reservation is that, being a Mac-centric school, I'll need have OSX for specific assignments or criteria. There's an "Intro to Digital Technology" course, even. Which should be worth a laugh. But what if I actually, earnestly need a Mac? I even emailed the department head and got a rather vague response. Well, it's best to be prepared. I think it'll take a bit of elbow grease, but I'll take the same approach as I did with the $10 iPod Touch firmware. 'Cause I ain't payin' that.
-Cril

I've never been frightened of being enlightened
But some things can go too far
Though sometimes I stammer and mix up my grammar
You get what my meanings are

These apples are delicious
As a matter of fact they are, she said
Can all this fruit be free?

Barenaked Ladies - These Apples