Sunday, May 30, 2010

Snow Storm Sans the Alps

It's been snowing the past few days. Wet, sticky snow that collects a bit over night and then melts. It's May. Almost June. Bah, I have no particular fondness for Alberta weather.

So tonight, for the first time ever, I watched one of the Star Wars trilogy movies out of order, with absolutely no intent to directly follow it up with another one. Empire Strikes back just celebrated its 30th birthday, or something like that, and I had the sudden urge to watch it. So did. Vintage and original, un-molested version, of course (thanks, torrents!). What a great movie. So many small touches, the characters are so well written and acted. And you know what? Yes, you can tell that the special effects were dated. There were some obvious spots where you could tell a character was acting against a green screen, overlayed against other footage. But something about it seems more... Tangible. Not shiny and spectacular like the CG Lucas likes oh-so-much, but a bit grittier and imperfect. I loved every second of it. It must've been years since I last saw this movie. I was tempted to watch the whole trilogy, but New Hope is so campy and Return of the Jedi isn't quite as dark and epic. Empire Strikes Back is just done so... Well.

Just finished a art history research paper I had been slugging away at for the past three weeks. Not sure how well it turned out, I think the topic progression is a bit wonky and I'm not sure if I hit all the bases my prof will want to see. Hopefully I can make up for it with the exams. It's nice to have it out of the way, in any case.

Sketch23 copy

I just spent, like 4-5hours this weekend documenting and uploading my portfolio for the Bachelor of Design program. It's pretty much the best I have to offer, and I can't quite decide if that's a good thing or not considering what's in there. But we'll see.

In other news... I tried a bit of Need for Speed Shift and was disappointed that it wasn't Grid. It's a BIG step up from past NFS games, that's for sure, but I think that Grid was such racing sim nirvana that I'm having a hard time really appreciated Shift for what it's worth. I do like the upgradeability and customization, though, it gives you that extra sense of progression as you play. Just add that to Grid, and I'd be thrilled. Give it open-world sections with police chases, and I'd be over the moon.

Speaking of cars, my Integra is running a bit rough. It shudders in the 1000-2000 RPM range when a gear is engaged, and there's a constant high-pitched chirping sound. I really need to get it looked at. It's just so much more convenient now that the office has moved. I'll figure something out. It really worries me though. I love driving so much, and the thought that my car isn't as healthy as I'd like it to be really bothers me. Some day I'll have a new, flawless car. Some day.

I have half-a-dozen topics I keep in a to-do list of things I want to write about. But it's always a little to late in the evening and I'm a bit too tired to sit down and bang something significant out. Hopefully now that I have that big assignment out of the way and I can do some more writing. Er, other writing.
-Cril

So just say how to make it right
And I swear I'll do my best to comply

Postal Service - Nothing Better

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Boot to the head

Ugh, I'm falling behind on sketches. I think I'm down by three at the moment. I'm really working hard - I have two midterm exams next week, and a major research essay and smaller written assignment the week after. Not to mention the complete GONG SHOW that is getting my company to a trade show. And me and two others being left behind to hold the fort. None of us with a whole-lot of experience with processing orders. But we managed, I think.

I re-read the Bachelor of Design portfolio submissions email, and it said that results for entrance will be mailed out no later than the third week of May. That'd be this last Friday. Hrmph. I should at least be getting my portfolio back soon, and then I can shoot it. Ka-blammo.

Sketch20 copy

I watched I Am Sam last night after I burnt out on studying. What a tear-jerker. Anyways, I don't got much else to say this week.
-Cril

People talking in movie shows,
People smoking in bed!
People voting Republican,
Give them a boot to the head!

Boot to the head! Yah, yah...
Boot to the head! Yah, yah...
Boot to the head! Yah, yah...
Boot to the head!
Yah yah yah.. yah. yah yah yah


The Frantics - Boot to the Head

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

There's a graphic designer sappin' mah project

I want to kill the engineers.

Sketch15

That is all.
-Cril

Take the Bloody Basin Road
Through Black Water Canyon
Up the twisted road
To Mingus Mountain
Then you'll know you are home
In the ghost town called Jerome
Where the ghosts dance all around you
All around you, in Jerome

Barenaked Ladies - Jerome

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Cycles of the Moon

It's interesting. This week was grad for the seniors at ACAD. So as I stroll through the (rather desolate) campus on the way to my spring class, I pass by the odd person setting up decorations or laying out displays of work. I gotta say, there is some incredibly impressive material coming out of these, now former students. It makes me kind of excited to think of where I'll be once I complete my four years. If I complete four years. I suppose I'll find out sometime over the next few weeks if there'll be a second year or not, when they mail out the results for the portfolio applications. There are only 60 seats available. Hrm.

But, I have to say, I find the whole graduation thing rather depressing. My youngest sister is gearing up for her grad, and that certainly brings back a slew of rather uncomfortable memories. Whoever said that highschool is supposed to be the best years of your life must have been certifiably insane.

Thursday, though, was the graduation event at ACAD. I walked through the building on the way to the secondary classroom for art history, as the lecture hall was being occupied for the ceremonies. On the way I passed by all these people in caps and gowns, discussing and laughing with a twinkle in their eye. And the thought creeps up into my consciousness... "That could be you." Yeah, if I would've had my act together out of highschool, I could've taken a year off to work, gotten into school, and I'd be graduating right about now. Instead what do I have to show for it? A savings account, mostly.

I thought about it, though, and those four years between school and other school was rather necessary. Had I not been in need of decent employment, I wouldn't have landed the job I have now. And had I not stuck that out, I wouldn't have discovered that I rather enjoy doing graphic design, and that I'm somewhat capable at it. And as I spent the last four years doing the job I wasn't technically qualified to do (and I still am not), I built up lots of necessary skills. I can say with a certainty that a lot, if not most, of the work I've produced at this job is rather amateur. But what else would you expect for having zero training? Some skills I kind of caught on and picked up and developed through repetition, learning things over four years that I'd come to re-learn in a single 100-level studio course. And it wouldn't have been without a certain challenge to draw once a day, every day, that would give me some sort of foundation to stand on in terms basic artistic skill. A simple and shaky foundation, but a platform none-the-less to work off of.

So, in short, there's no way in hell I could have applied and got entrance into this school and this program if I had done so right after school, or even a year after. In that time I learned what I wanted to do, the basics of how to do it, and how to draw. I couldn't have gotten into ACAD with just two of those three things. There's no way that could be me, sweating out the early summer weather in a cap and gown of black and red, while I watch a backpack-laden first-year student trek across campus on the way to a spring semester class. That poor soul.

Still, though. Seeing how much time has ticked by urges me to tally it up, somehow. But that's another can of worms.

Sketch13 copy

I guess I've come to terms with the fact that where I am now is a product of incubating and developing something in its own due time. But it doesn't change the fact that I still have three years to go, and there'll be two other graduating classes before my turn comes. It's a rather daunting prospect, seeing how far I still need to travel after the grind of this last year. Judging by the tales of second year design students, I think I'm coming to dread this next year more than my first one. And that's saying a lot.

In the mean time, one foot in front of the other.
-Cril

Ee he o he-o cowboy
Ee he o he-o oooo
Ee he o he-o cowboy, cowboy, cowboy
Under the moon

I was ridin’ my horse
by the Rio Grandee
and all o’ them coyotes singing
in a prairie symphony

I was ridin’ my horse
down by the Rio Grandee
when I seen me a cowboy, cowboy, cowboy,
ridin’ toward me

Ee he o he-o cowboy
Ee he o he-o oooo
Ee he o he-o cowboy, cowboy, cowboy
Under the moon

Tom Hanks - The Cowboy Song

Sunday, May 09, 2010

A Seventy-Dollar Summer

I've finished my first week of the semester. Yaaaay. If I'm not careful I'm going to fall behind - the Spring semester runs over two months instead of four, so classes are twice a week. I need to do my readings and keep a close eye on due dates. Probably wouldn't hurt to keep my notes up-to-date so that once exams roll around I'll be ready. I have a major history paper due in a month. Blah.

I had an interesting moment after leaving work yesterday. I pulled alongside a Nissan GT-R, and admired its lines and sheer presence. And for just the smallest fraction of a second I caught myself thinking, "Yeah, I could totally take him." The freedom of owning and operating your own car is one helluva drug. Judging by the way it effects my thought process, I may be more of a junkie than many. "SO HOW DID IT END?!" you demand while precariously sustaining what little balance you possess on the edge of your seat. Well, you'll be glad to know that the GT-R never stood a chance, and I totally pulled away from him. It might have something to do with the fact that it was parked and driverless, though.

Anyways, I've now got the first week of sketch-a-day under my belt, which is nice. It's good to be drawing on the computer again. Now that I've completed my first year of art school, I can say with total confidence:
computer>graphite>ink>conte>charcoal>painting
I've easily logged 70-100 hours with each of those over the last semester alone, so I think I have a good foundation to base this opinion on. And, of course, such a thing is a subjective. But I know where my bread is buttered, and BOY do I prefer drawing on the computer.

I saw Iron Man 2 yesterday. It's the first movie I've seen since the Christmas break, and the first time I've been in a Theatre since... Whenever Up came out. Iron Man 2 was a rather mediocre way to get back into watching movies again. Fairly underwhelming - some good visuals and action, and a few unique moments here and there... But it felt like it was trying to do too many things, and as a result the pacing was rather shot. The movie paused and lurched through the whole story, clumsily skipping over the obvious plot holes. Meh. The only movie I really want to see in theatre this summer is Inception, pretty much based on the fact that it's a Christopher Nolan film. Dunno if I'll actually go to see it, though. This leads into my next point:

It's a seventy-dollar summer. Over the course of the next four months, I don't want to spend any more than $70 on entertainment/non-essential purchases. Eating out, movies, games, etc. If I get into the Bachelor of Design next year, there is a very good chance that I won't be able to work at all. I really need to put the pinch on my wallet and only get the things that matter. Gotta save every penny I can. This disclaimer to this, though, is that I'm starting off the summer with a small purchase spread between some books and other odds and ends, which I will not count against the budget. They're things that I really desire, and I think will give me more fulfillment than a night out or another game. So we'll see. From here on out though, I think I'll keep a tally each time I post. I'll list what I've bought the past week, and the remaining balance of my $70.

My sister arrived yesterday, she's here to work for the summer. It's nice to have her around for sure, but I'm a bit frustrated by the fact that I'm going to school and short on money. I wish we could spend every Saturday on the town trying new and exciting things. Instead, it'll be whatever we can get to with my car that we don't have to pay for. Sigh.

Sketch6 copy

Who knows, maybe I'll be denied entrance into 2nd year and that'll make everything better. Yeah. That's it.
-Cril

Hallé Choir and Orchestra - Pavane

Monday, May 03, 2010

What. A. Week.

Oh man, where to start. Okay, to start off, I was technically done my first year of art school on Monday, when I had my final Jewelry crit. That went okay. The next few days I dedicated to my portfolio. 10-12hrs of work, split between campus and home. Fixing drawings, mounting pieces, organizing, etc.

Once Thursday rolled around, though, I needed to log some hours in at work. The company was set to move over the weekend, and there had been a pile odds-and-ends piling up while I slaved away to finish the semester and get my portfolio done. So I went in and worked, checking email, updating contact information for the office, using the laser to produce a kit to fill a large distributor order, etc etc. So anyways, that went okay. I put in 10 hours at the office, came home, worked until 12AM or so, and called it a night.

On Friday we started the move itself - tearing down shelves, desks, and computers, and packing them into a massive 35-foot panel van. All the while I continued to run the laser for that large order, watching it while helping out with the move as best I could. And then there was a beeping sound. Something smelled funny. Someone said "The laser caught fire!" and my world froze. Sure enough, the job that I had run half a dozen times that morning and the entire day before had, somehow, ignited. My boss opened it up and used the extinguisher to put it out. The optics are SCREWED along with the entire arm. Parts have deformed, including the lid which has a MASSIVE bump, almost looking as if something had exploded inside. The smoke stank so bad. And I felt, and still do feel, 100% terrible. I had just managed to ruin a $20,000 piece of equipment, a prized (and productive) possession of the office. To be fair, both my boss and manager came and told me that they don't blame me for it. It could have been anyone. That's exactly the thing - nothing was out of the ordinary. I had been doing it the EXACT same way I'd done it for the last ~20 times within the past 24 hours. I have no idea how I could have known or suspected that this time would be different. Hell, I don't even know what I could have done to prevent it if I were to do the same job again. But, still, I feel terrible. I was running the job. started it, and changed it, and monitored it. Me, me, me. Who else could have possibly been to blame? I'm trying not to beat myself up about it too much. Like I said, I don't know what I could have done differently, and both the higher-ups made it clear that they don't hold it against me.

So I trudged through the day, packing and thinking about what I could've done wrong and how terrible of an employee I am. I go home after another 10hr day, skip supper, and try to plug away at my portfolio while trying to simultaneously fight a mountain of distraction and just over the massive pit of despair in my stomach. I wasn't getting anywhere, so I figured I'd check my grades online. It's the end of the semester, and grades were slowly getting posted up over the week. My history mark finally appeared - something I had been particularly anxious to see, as I did fairly poorly on my midterm and really studied hard to improve for the final.

The grade? F. 0.00 grade points. F. For Failure. Wow. It's like somebody just ripped the rug out from underneath me. Now no disrespect to the people who are challenged by academic courses. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses when it comes to learning and taking in information. But at that moment when I saw that F, and refreshed the page to make sure I wasn't seeing things, I lost a metric crap-tonne of self-respect. I immediately felt totally incompetant. It was, quite honestly, the hardest blow I've been dealt in my scholarly career. I fired the professor an email, asking if I could meet him to review my final exam. An F means I need to re-take the course. There's $500 down the drain. The F means I won't be eligible to get into the Bachelor of Design program. There's a LOT of wasted effort on that portfolio. And, of course, an F means that my GPA is shot to hell. My GPA is something that, when I feel bad about an assignment I've done or wonder if I'm cut out for it, I can lean on to make me think I might be okay. An F means that I'm a Failure.

I couldn't concentrate on anything, so I went to bed. And laid there for hours and hours, thinking about a charred and scared piece of $20,000 machinery and a test that had likewise burnt my self-confidence and image of self-worth to a crisp. I think I went to sleep some time after 3AM.

Up at 8:30, eat a quick breakfast, over to the office to keep moving. The day goes by without anything worth noting. At some point during the day, leeching off a WIFI signal from my boss' tethered Android (because the network had long since been taken down), I checked my email. Good news, the prof responded stating that there was an error with several students' grades, which should be updated shortly. He didn't have my grade on hand, and I still don't know what I got. One one hand it's a HUGE relief, but... I still don't know the grade. And after such a blow, it's hard for me to not rule out that I may yet receive that F. I probably won't. I most likely will be far away from that grade. But still.

Anyways, evening rolls around, I'm still chugging away at the office. The town is pretty quiet, and after giving my boss a lift in my car from the old office to the new, he suggests that I should drive the (empty) panel van back to the old office for one more load. I'm not convinced. He tells me that it ain't so much of an offer or suggestion. Well, okay, fine. It'll be an experience. I shoulda known better, knowing how the week had transpired thus far. But we get in the van to drive it over. I climb up into the cab, sit down, buckle up. He goes through the basics - diesel engine, parking brake works like this, rely on the mirrors, etc. The gearbox is what gave me a lot of trouble. It has six forward gears, plus reverse and a crawler. The stick shift centers on 1st and 2nd gears (with R and C to the left), which throws me for a bit of a loop, as most cars center on 3rd and 4th. But I got the hang of it - there was very little feeling/feedback in the clutch and the engine only really has an operational range from 1000-2500RPM, so the shifts are fast and furious. And confusing. I accidentally slipped it into reverse at a light instead of first, but the roads were quiet and I quickly realized what was happening even before I let the clutch all the way out. I even got to the office without stalling once.

The biggest issue with the truck, though, is the sense of space. I'll admit that I don't even have an exceptional good idea of volume/size when driving my own, rather small car. Being 35 feet long and lacking a rear-view mirror multiplied this by a gajillion. But my boss was there, and talked me through things. Driving on the roads was actually fairly easy, aside from that one car that was fallowing so closely I couldn't see him in my mirrors (note to self: ALWAYS give large trucks/vans more following distance). Anyways, the tricky part is the tight maneuvering. 90-degree turns are brutal. And so I came to the alley outside of the office, which I had to pull into. Swing wide to the other side of the road and crank it in. SCRAAAAAPE. I hit a dumpster on the curb, right before the alley. Backup, straighten, turn, backup, clear the dumpster and head up the alley. The end. The damage isn't too bad - a long, blue scratch that cut into the side a bit, and I mangled a little latch, but otherwise it's okay. Life goes on.

Anways, Sunday night rolls around and I STILL have lots to work on my portfolio. Chug away, bang out 6 sketches in two or three hours to finish my third sketchbook (!!). Mount it, finalize and print my written statements, mount those... Things are looking good. I only need to finish my last personal piece (a process book for a previous project). I put a few hours in, and call it a night.

Today rolls around. I get up, and take the first hour and a half of the morning to finish the portfolio. All done. Everything is fixed and finalized, mended and mounted. I usually try to get this stuff done a LOT sooner than the morning-of, but this seems to be the story of the entire winter semester. I pack things up, and go to work for a few hours. Get in, and realize that the bottom of my cardboard portfolio is starting to split. I dig through the palettes at work to find some black duct tape and scissors, and neatly reinforce the underside that is housing all of my most-prized works of the last... Ever. Anyways, it's all good. I take an hour or so to setup my desk and tackle a few odd-jobs. I head into school to drop off the portfolio.

Now I don't get out very often, and I sure as hell don't get any actual exercise in. So I'm proud to say that I have taken the stairs every single time I need to change floors in campus (except for that one time I went in on an NI day, and took the elevator with a security escort to open up a specific studio I needed to work in). I'm not lazy enough to take the elevator. It's tiring, and 85 stairs four times a day isn't exactly fun, but I think it's worth it. It'll pay of at some point, maybe. Anyways, there I am, just inside the main entrance, looking at the stairwell. "Should I take the elevator? It sure is a heavy portfolio." I pause and consider. "Don't be a wuss, take the stairs. Besides, you just fixed up the bottom anyways." Stairs it is. And on the last two steps, I kid you not, SNAP! A handle comes clean off the side of the portfolio, leaving a gaping hole where it was attached. Lovely. I knew it. I knew it. I should not have used that crappy cardboard case for something like this. But there I was, not far from the designated drop-off point. Screw it. Maybe they'll hold it against my application, maybe they won't. I don't have time to fix it or change it anyways.

So I drop it off, and go down to the cafeteria to scarf down some lunch before class starts. Lo and behold, to my amazement, tables are littered with people cramming in last-minute changes and finishing up works. Wow, just wow. I think to myself "I can't believe there are so many people who leave it to the day-of to finish something like this." Then I realize that I'm one of those people. But, to my credit, all my pieces were done the day before and even then I wasn't leaving it until four hours from the deadline. Yikes. Anyways, the portfolio is submitted. A lady had a list with me and several others from my history class, double-checking that everything would be alright given the apparent issue with the grades. So I left the room, and for a moment it's like a massive weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I'm done. That's it. It's all out of my hands now. And an instant later, an equally burdensome weight has been set on my shoulders as I realize that I must wait a month to find out my fate, which (considering the record-high number of applicants) may not be what I hope for.

I think, for some bizarre reason, I've already come to terms with the fact I won't get in. The idea still makes me feel ill and uneasy, but... Life will go on. I'll feel terrible and like garbage once I find out, but it's not the end of the world. If there's one thing that I've learned over the past year, it's that free time is a truly precious thing. If I don't get in, of course I'll take a year to work and save like mad. But at the same time, I'm going to do something with myself, dammit. I've wasted too many years of playing it safe and working and saving and only doing the things I can participate in without spending significant amounts of money on. Maybe I'll take a competitive driving course, or maybe I'll travel. I gotta have a life at some point.

It's also clear, though, that in some regards I don't want to go to school next year anyways. You know what? I didn't enjoy my first year of studies. Yeah, I met some neat people and had unique experiences and learned a TON and made things and unlocked parts of myself I didn't know existed, but... I didn't enjoy it. I never said "I can't wait to go to school today!" or "Wow, I'm really enjoying this project!" Sure, some parts were more tolerable than others. But, I think, I'm not a school person. I sure-as-hell didn't enjoy high school, university was underwhelming and now this... I'm not here for a good time. I'm here to log my time, learn and develop myself as best I can. Not to have happy-memories. I do it because it's something I need to do. I need to get oil changes for my car and do laundry and brush my teeth and get a four-year degree. It's just how it is.

And I will undoubtedly be crushed when I get refused. I tried so hard and put so much work in... It's one of those moments where you realize that, even if you really put your mind to it, you cannot do anything. It'll mean another year (at least) before I complete my education, and I won't do it with the few people I've connected with over the last year.

Anyways, after class I went back to work where I was informed that the damage to the truck had to be repaired, less the rental company charge us $1000 to replace the appropriate part/s. So, you're obviously not the most knowledgeable or skilled person to do this kind of repair work (removing marks, applying filler, sanding, finishing), but fix it so that we don't need to pay for it. Well... I can't argue with that. It was my fault, and especially considering they aren't holding a certain ruined $20,000 machine against me, I feel nothing short of obliged to do my best to repair the truck. It was, afterall, a unique experience that I'll remember. Thirty-five feet long. The suspension was so bouncy, too. I'll never compare minivans to a barge again - I know way better.

So that lands me here, now. This, I guess, is my first night "off" since the winter break. I don't have any homework, and even though I stayed at the office until 7 trying to fix up the truck, I've managed to eat and show and bang out 2600 words (and counting). It's been one helluva week.

Sketch3 copy

I'm weary. There's so much else filling up the corners of my mind, and I've only managed to cover the events of the last seven days. I need to make a list. So much to write down. So much more to do with my summer. Let's just hope that things get better.
-Cril

Into the Fire - Noa Assembly